Short Story Wednesdays #9- Case of the Scheming Widow (Part 2)

Case of the Scheming Widow (Part 2) 

Her green eyes entered his bloodstream like opium. The particles of his body re-oriented themselves in anticipation of an unforeseen ecstasy. The realisation shot through his blood like a drug, slowly making its way to his brain. A drug like haze came over his body, clouding his mind. Memories played like a movie. The reel was endless. Each memory triggered another one. The reminiscing went on for quite some time. Silence hung like a sharp dagger over the chill autumn air. Marianne tapped Detective Adams, bringing him back to his senses. He examined her carefully. 

Ruby Woods was every bit the beauty he remembered. She was not the innocent girl with hay in her hair. The pure smile of her pink lips had transitioned into a seductive pout of ruby red lips. He didn’t know her eyes could be so intense. The rouge highlighted her warm complexion. Her large, dark eyelashes fluttered, shielding her green eyes. She wasn’t the reed thin Ruby he remembered. She was a woman now. Her skirt clung to the curves of her body. Her waist was tiny. Ruby Woods was a femme fatale. Her green eyes examined him sharply. He strained to notice any glimmer of recognition in them. There was none. 

He sat on the sofa, trying to make sense of what had just occurred. The solicitor had left after announcing Mr. Graham’s will. Mr. Graham had left everything to Ruby’s charity- his houses, his companies, his liquid assets and his antiques. Mrs. Graham had received a cottage in the countryside. She had also received a meagre amount for upkeep of the house. To Mrs. Graham, it all looked incredibly suspicious. Her husband had passed his entire fortune to an unknown woman. There was no doubt that they shared a deep relationship. Ruby Woods was a full time activist. She ran a publication that highlighted issues with labour laws and environmental laws. Her office was located in a suburb of London. It was incredible that she was acquainted with Mr. Graham. 

Mrs. Graham weeped tirelessly on one end of the sofa. Her lace handkerchief was soaked with salty tears. Ruby Woods was the first person to get up. She stood up silently and began making her way to the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mrs. Graham asked. 

“I have work to do.” she said. 

“Work? Aren’t you happy that you received everything?” she asked in a bitter tone. “You seduced my husband-“

“Please refrain from making unsubstantiated claims.” Ruby said in a formal tone. 

“Unsubstantiated? I saw you leaving the house at night. What else could you have been doing? Unless-“

“I was here to talk about the working conditions in the factory. Mr. Graham agreed to the reforms I proposed. We were to carry them out together.” 

“Together? That makes no sense. I’m sure you killed him.” Mrs. Graham said in an emotional outburst. Marianne rolled her eyes. She hated drama. 

“You have no proof.” Ruby said, raising her eyebrows. 

“We’ll see about that.” Mrs. Graham said. Ruby Woods walked out of the door, shutting it loudly behind her. 

Mrs. Graham broke down on the sofa. 

“We were married for thirty years…” she said between sobs. “He left me nothing.” 

Technically he left her a house. 

“Mrs. Graham, I am sorry for your loss,” Detective Adams said. “We need to have a look at the library where he was murdered.” 

“Sure. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Mrs. Graham walked out of the room to get herself together. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Marianne hissed.

“Hmmmmm…” Detective Adams said. “I need to break this curse.”  

The details of the murder were unspectacular. Mr. Graham collapsed while he was studying at his library. He had been poisoned. There weren’t any fingerprints on the cup. Nobody except Mrs. Wood had come into the house that night. Mrs. Graham came in when she heard the news of Mr. Graham’s death. All the servants had been present during the murder. The kitchen staff were interrogated. 

The cup of tea in question was served by a maid and prepared by the chef. On further inspection, the chef revealed that he saw a shadow near the library while he was on his way back. The maid had left the cup of tea at the counter, unattended for less than five minutes. She had been summoned by the housekeeper to attend to Mrs. Wood. Mrs. Wood came in at five that evening and stayed until six. After she left, Mr. Graham moved to the library and drank the cup of tea. The butler came in at quarter past six and noticed that he was dead. He immediately summoned Mrs. Graham and the police. Mrs. Graham who was on her way to Manchester arrived at eight that night. The police arrived immediately. 

Detective Adams looked at the remnants of the murder in the library. It was sealed off. The police had warned the staff to stay away from it. Detective Adams stepped under the tapes and walked to the chair where Mr. Graham had collapsed. It was a large red velvet chair. It must have cost a fortune. He surveyed the cozy library. Legions of books lined its shelves. They were mostly covered with a rustic maroon, dark green, black or dark blue cover with golden letters. A book lay next to the chair. Detective Adams picked it up. 

‘One October Night’ the book read in a golden print embossed on the maroon hardcover. Detective Adams opened the book. A flash of blinding light enveloped him. Before he could react, his body disappeared into the realm of time. He saw the years of his life pass before his eyes like a movie. The blinding light carried him to the past. He opened his eyes. The light was gone. Darkness filled its place.

Detective Adams was still in the library. He couldn’t transcend time. The book lay in his hand. He looked at it and sighed. He examined the cold scenery. He opened the book. The first page was embossed with the title of the book. The book was an old one. The pages had turned yellow over time. He examined the position of the chair. The murder was rather simple. Somebody had put the poison in the cup while the maid was busy attending to Ruby. It could have been one of the servants. The murderer must have been in the house that night. If an outsider were to come in and poison the tea, it would take longer than five minutes.

Detective Adams opened the book. The first page was a deep yellow. Small, black words ran like ants along the muddy surface of the page. He focused his small brown eyes on the words. The book was printed three years ago in 1947. The book was published by Raven publishers which was a small vanity press in Manchester. The author of the book was somebody named Aaron White. Detective Adams had no recollection of that name. Mr. Graham liked to read books written by local authors. Detective Adams turned the page. 

The acknowledgements were brief. The book was dedicated to the author’s sister. The story was a memoir of the author’s journey to find his lost sibling. Detective Adams turned to the first chapter.

‘It was an October night. The gloomy England weather was at its worst. Rain poured perpetually from the dull, grey skies. The city was a toxic dump. Smoke mingled with the rain and poured on the modern buildings….’ 

Detective Adams yawned. He didn’t need to hear how bad English weather could be. He had lived there all his life. He turned to the next page.

‘I noticed her frail form in the distance. She emerged like diamond from the dust. It was ethereal. The clouds of smoke parted. Her pale face, her dark hair, her frightened eyes and her frail form looked at me with a deep sense of need. My heart skipped a beat. In her eyes, I saw my childhood. It had to be her. Memories flooded my mind. Tears poured from my eyes. There were no words to describe the emotion I felt at that moment. She was here. She was alive.’ 

The author met his long lost sibling that night. Detective Adams shut the book. He had no time to be reading books. He had to investigate the murder. He tucked the book in his arm and left to question the staff. He decided to begin his investigation by questioning the butler and the maid. 

The maid was a petite creature with large brown eyes. Her pale skin was rough and dry. The aged housekeeper accompanied the maid. Detective Adams wondered if houses with butlers and maids still existed. The Grahams opulence showed in the battalion of helpers that they employed. It must cost a fortune to maintain this place. 

“What happened on the night of the murder?” Detective Adams asked, getting to the point. “The chef gave me a cup of tea that was supposed to be delivered to Mr. Graham,” she said in a shaky voice.

“Does he drink tea every evening?”

“Yes, at six sharp.” she said.

“Does everybody in the house know about this?” he asked.

“Yes.” the housekeeper broke in. 

“And what about Mrs. Woods?”

“I can’t say…” the maid said. “She was a frequent visitor to the mansion.” 

“Why did she come here?”

“I don’t think-“

“Mrs. Brown, I would like your co operation,” Detective Adams said. “Your silence will not help me solve the case.”

“She was here to discuss the reforms they were to implement at the factory.” the housekeeper said with a prominent lack of expression.

“How long did these conversations usually last?” he asked.

“Two or three hours.” 

“Did she always come in the evening?”

“Yes. She works in the morning.” the housekeeper said. 

“Was it you that summoned her that day?” he asked.

“Yes. We were short on staff that night. I asked her to serve Mrs. Woods some refreshments and make sure she was comfortable.”

“Did they speak in the library?” he asked.

“Mostly.” Mrs. Brown said. “They moved to the drawing room sometimes.” 

“Did Mrs. Graham know about this?” 

“Not really….” the maid said. “She discovered it by accident one night. She came in early one night and found Mrs. Woods at the mansion.”

“How did she react?”

“She was angry, of course. She suspected they were in a romantic relationship. They argued in the library for hours.” 

“Would you say Mr. Graham and Mrs. Woods were in an intimate relationship?”

“Detective-“ the housekeeper broke in. “We can’t comment on such things.” 

“You must have a take on it?” 

“No…” the maid said in a low voice. “They only spoke in the library or the drawing room when somebody was present.” 

“Did Mr. Graham go out of the house often?” 

“He went to work in the mornings and came back home by five. He drank tea at seven and had dinner at nine.” she said. “Mrs. Woods usually visited between six and nine.” 

“I see…” Detective Adams said. “Thank you for your co operation.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” the maid said. 

“One more question, did you find anything strange when you came back after serving Mrs. Woods?” 

“Ummm….not really….she said. The cup was where I left it. No…there was nothing strange.”

“And, where did you leave the cup of tea?”

“I left it on a table near the kitchen.” she said. 

“I see. Thank you.” Detective Adams said, concluding the meeting. The staff went home that evening. Detective Adams stayed in the mansion with Mrs. Graham and Mrs. Woods. They were busy sorting out the inheritance. Night fell. The moon rose in the sky. Detective Adams looked out of the window at the night sky. His feet were restless. Something troubled him. He bought out the book that he had picked up from the library. He opened it. He was on Chapter 3 now. With every chapter, the story became clearer. The author was a journalist who worked his way up the ladder. One night in October, he met his sister. They had been separated at birth. Many years later, the author discovered that his sister lived in Manchester. He went down to her place one night and they met by a stroke of luck. They stayed in touch ever since.

Detective Adams was sure that some sort of clue was buried in the book. He searched for information on Aaron White that night in the library. There were no other book written by him. He had debuted with this book and hadn’t written anything ever since. The press that published the book was situated in Manchester. He made a note to visit the place. Detective Adams stepped out of the library. He was lost in his thoughts. The book was tucked in his arm.

He took a step. He stopped. He dropped the book. Ruby Woods stood before him. Her green eyes examined him relentlessly. There was a deep sense of recognition in them. Her pupils dilated. His eyes remained fixed on her. Memories began to play in his mind. He remembered the touch of her skin. He remembered the feel of her lips. He remembered her sweet voice. She took a step towards him. He stood still. There was nobody in the hallway except the two of them. Detective Adams’ heart was thundering.

“Eddie…” she said in a low voice. His ears stood up. His brain soaked in the sweetness of her voice. Detective Adams turned to face Ruby Woods. Her eyes looked into his. They emanated the bitterness of goodbye. She left without saying goodbye. When he heard that she got married, he decided to end his life by jumping into the river. However, instead of drowning, he had gained the ability to travel through time. This was where it had all begun. 

She inched closer to him. His heartbeat escalated. She was too close. Her breath caressed his skin. He felt his body ignite. She closed the gap between them in an embrace. Her hands came over his back, clutching him tighter. He dropped the book he had in his hand. It fell to the floor, opening on a page. Before he could soak in love and nostalgia, he saw a deep red stain on the page. His body was numb. His hands ran up his spine. He could feel something hard nestled against his back. His breath stopped. 

Ruby Woods parted. On the edge of her skirt stood a sharp dagger stained with blood. 

“Ruby….” Detective Adams’ voice was weak. His knees bolted. He collapsed on the floor. The red carpet, the red blood and the stained book covered his vision. A hazy image of Ruby floated before his eyes. The red faded to darkness. 


(To be continued...)