Page 100 of The Most Wonderful Crime of the Year
“That doesn’t prove anything!” His Grace snapped.
“He’s right.” Ethan looked at Maggie. “I hate to say it, but Sir Dukes-a-Lot has a point.”
“True. It could have been”—Maggie turned to Cece—“the mysterious new niece who, we should remember, actually delivered the deadly tray to Eleanor’s office.”
“I didn’t poison it!” Cece sounded near tears. “I took it to her and left it in the hall and went to bed. You saw me!”
“We did,” Maggie conceded. “But you could have poisoned it before you took it upstairs.”
Cece was just opening her mouth to speak when Ethan put in, “What you couldnothave done is shoot at Maggie in the maze.”
“But I...” Cece trailed off, processing the words. “Ooh. That’s right! I was upstairs!”
“Exactly,” Maggie said. “You couldn’t have fired the shots. But your accomplice could have.”
It was almost funny, the way the color drained from Cece’s face. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Maggie could almost read Ethan’s expressions by that point. They had their own language of little smiles and tiny touches, inside jokes and knowing looks. So it felt almost like a dance when they both said, “Shrimp puffs.”
“I... What?” Dobson exclaimed, but Maggie was looking right at Cece.
“When did you meet FreddyBanes?” she asked.
“I... uh... three days ago.” Cece looked like it must be a trick question. “The same day I met you.”
“And you, Mr. Banes?” Ethan asked. “You were new to Eleanor’s legal team, didn’t you say?”
“Well, of course,” the man said.
“And you were a last-minute addition to the guest list, were you not? Weren’t they expecting your father?”
“That’s true, but I don’t know what that has to do with—”
“So Cece”—Ethan flashed his most charming smile—“maybe you can tell us how you knew this man was allergic to shellfish?”
“I... uh... Ididn’tknow.”
“Really? Then why did you pull the tray of shrimp puffs away from him on his very first night here?”
“I... uh...” She crossed her arms. “That was a coincidence.”
“See, we considered that. But then there was the case of... the blue envelope.” Ethan pulled it from the box with a flourish.
“Recognize that?” Maggie asked. “You should. You saw James bring it in our first day here. But Eleanor didn’t let you touch it, did she?”
“I don’t see what some silly ol’ envelope even matters.”
But Ethan was already turning to the lawyer. “Your firm handled the DNA testing when Eleanor’s mystery niece showed up, did you not?”
“Certainly. But—”
Maggie cut him off. “So it would have been simple enough to switch the samples or the results if you wanted to get your accomplice—maybe an old girlfriend from when you studied in the States—through the door?”
“That’s ridiculous.” The man jolted to his feet, but plopped right back down with one look from Ethan.
“Eleanor probably looked like an easy mark. She was old. She was rich. And for all intents and purposes”—this was the part that Maggie found most painful—“she was alone. But she was also savvy. And she wasn’t going to do anything without being sure, so she ordered a new—and possibly secret—DNA test.” Maggie pointed to the envelope. “And the results arrived threedays ago.”
Someone gasped as the group turned to Cece.
