Short Story Wednesdays #10- Case of the Scheming Widow (Part 3)

Finally, the last part of this short story is here. This is the longest short story I've written. I tried to wind it up in this part. Hope you all liked it. I'll be back with a new short story next week. I regularly post short story trailers on my youtube channel. You can subscribe my clicking the subscribe button on the right side. 

In the mean time, you can check out the new novel that I am serialising on my blog. It's posted under the 'Confessions' bar on the left hand side. I update the Confessions page every Sunday. 

Here's the final part of this short story. Enjoy! 

Case of the Scheming Widow (Part 3) 

Detective Adams woke up to silence. His eyes opened gently, letting the first rays of the morning sun seep in. His eyes hit upon the tall ceiling. The humdrum of morning routine beat against his ears. He heard the clanking of metal. The mansion was buzzing with activity.

He heard whispers outside the door. His body woke up with a jolt. The memory of Ruby Woods burned across his mind. He inhaled sharply. His fingers ran down his back. They met with a smooth vertebra. He looked for any other sign of a stab wound but there was none. Had he been imaged the encounter? 

He walked up to the door. He stopped. Two of the maids were busy gossiping.

“This is a secret, okay?” one of the maids said in a loud whisper.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” the other one said in a solid tone. 

“I saw Mrs. Graham on the night of the murder.” she said.

“What!?”

“She came in early. Actually, she came before Ruby left.”

“How?”

“She has the key to the back door. Her train arrived early.”

“Do you think she-“

“No…why would she?” the other maid asked. 

Detective Adams pressed his ear against the door.

“Did she meet him?”

“I guess not. If she did, they probably argued about the widow.” 

“Ever since she came along, the Grahams have been arguing.”

“Mrs. Graham feels insecure.” the other maid said. 

“You remember what she did to poor Lucy?” 

“She forced her to immigrate!” the maid said sharply. “Poor thing. She’s stuck somewhere in Africa now.” 

“I’m sure Mrs. Woods doesn’t want to immigrate.” the other maid said. 

“But that won’t stop Mrs. Graham from finding ways to eliminate competition.”

“You think Mr. Graham really likes the widow?”

“I don’t know….they only ever talk…. we don’t know the details.”

“Girls, please get back to work.” a stern voice echoed in the hallway. The housekeeper interrupted the conversation. The girls cleared the way. Detective Adams opened the door. Three shocked faces looked at him. The maids muttered something and disappeared. The housekeeper stared at him with her erect spine. Her eyes looked at him sharply. She cleared her throat. 

“Yes, Detective, how may I help you?” she asked in a low, formal voice.

“Ummm….how did I get here?” he asked, his voice shaky. His hand clutched his head. 

“Well, I brought you here,” she said. “You fainted in the corridor last night. Mrs. Woods informed me about it. I had you moved to the spare room.” 

“Ruby Woods, huh?” he muttered. “Did she tell you why I fainted?”

“I have no idea…” the housekeeper said. “It was too late to call the doctor. One of the staff knows some medicine. He said you’d be fine. It was fatigue.” 

“Fatigue…I see…” he said. “Has Marianne left?”

“Yes, she said she had to get back to the office.” the housekeeper said. 

Detective Adams was silent. He felt his stomach contract. 

“Would you like breakfast?” she asked, noticing his lack of ease. 

“I would. Thank you.” 

After eating a large breakfast, Detective Adams left for Raven Publishers. The press was a small, crammed one located in the city centre. He wondered how the press had managed to afford a spot in the city. It was situated on the second floor of a three storied building. A narrow, dark staircase led to the office. A neat, glass door stood between him and the office. The glass was neatly polished, unlike the building. 

He opened the door and stepped in. The smell of paint rushed in through his nose. He noticed that the ceiling looked brand new. He could almost smell the plaster that held the wallpaper. The wallpaper was brand new. The table at the reception was polished so neatly that he could see his reflection in it. The place had been renovated recently. Framed images of book covers hung on the walls. A certificate of achievement hung on the wall. The press had been featured in many leading magazines. To Detective Adams, it seemed that the press was doing very well. 

A petite lady looked at him from behind the table at the entrance. He walked towards it. 

“How may I help?” she asked. 

“I got a book published by your company recently,” Detective Adams said. “I wanted to interview the author. I was wondering if you could give me his contact details.”

“Sure,” she said with a bright smile. She was eager for publicity. Detective Adams placed the book on the table. She examined it. A strange expression spread across her face.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think you’ll be able to meet this author.” she said. “He passed away recently.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Detective Adams said. “But, can you tell me a bit more about him? Where did he work?”

“He was self employed.” she said deceptively. 

“Did he live in Manchester?”

“He did…most of the time. He travelled quite a bit.”

“Is Aaron White a pen name?” 

The receptionist didn’t answer. 

“No…” she said hesitantly. “That’s his real name.” 

“I see. Thank you for the information.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“That’s all right. I see the press is doing very well.”

“We recently renovated. A lot of new authors have been choosing to publish with us.” she said brightly. Before he left the publishing house, his eyes fell on an image of the family solicitor. 

“Excuse me, who is this?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the image.

“Oh that’s our president,” she said. “He owns Raven press.” 
Detective Adams immediately rushed out of the door. He spent rest of the day hunting for information about the company’s tax records. The company had been established three and a half years ago. The press had been financed by a company called ‘Woods ventures’. Coincidentally, it was a part of the group of companies that the Grahams owned. 

Detective Adams glanced at the book again. Electricity ran through his body. He touched it. He felt flames engulf him. A blinding light flooded his eyes. He closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them, he found himself in the library. Before him sat Mr. Graham, alive and healthy. His eyes widened. Detective Adams smiled to himself. 

                                             ********************************

Detective Adams stood at the centre of the drawing room surrounded by an array of baffled faces. His eyes were fixed on the edge of the wall where the door met the wallpaper. The wooden door opened. The solicitor stepped in. He left his briefcase near the sofa and sat down. Mrs. Graham fanned herself ferociously. The bright daylight was beginning to fade into a bright orange. Ruby Woods sat behind Detective Adams, her face masked with confidence. 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Detective Adams said in a confident manner. Marianne rolled her eyes. She sat next to Ruby Woods. She had called the police, just in case. “I’m sure you’re all waiting for me to reveal the murderer.”

Nobody in the room was even vaguely interested.

“What I discovered during my stay at the Graham mansion is something very simple. Everybody lies. Whatever their motivation, everyone lies.” 

“This is not a philosophy class…” the solicitor remarked, rolling his eyes. 

“For instance, Mr. Solicitor, let’s begin with you,” Detective Adams said. A shocked solicitor looked at the detective.

“Me? What have I got to hide?” 

“You were well aware of Mr. Graham’s financial situation. You were his closest confidante. You knew of all his entrepreneurial endeavours. Not all his properties were disclosed in the will.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Nobody except you know who Ruby Woods really was. You also knew about the book he wrote under the pen name, Aaron White. In fact, Raven Publishers is run by you.”

“I-“ the solicitor was hesitant. “He insisted that the publishing house be under my name.”

“He didn’t include it in the will-“

“It didn’t make much money. It wasn’t meant to be an investment.”

“It didn’t make much when you started it but it is doing quite well now. I went through the records of the company last evening. It has been turning in a handsome profit. In fact, it’s been renovated recently.” 

“Do you mean I-“

“Before we jump to conclusions, let’s reveal some more secrets,” he said enigmatically. “Why do you think Mr. Graham left everything to Mrs. Woods?”

“They were having an affair. That’s why!” Mrs. Graham spat out. 

“You sure made it seem that way,” Detective Adams said. 

“I confronted him about Ruby one night,” she said. “He refused to admit to being in a relationship with her. I knew he was lying.” 

“None of the maids thought they were having an affair,” Detective Adams said. “In fact, their relationship was strictly business. They only spoke in the presence of others. They retired to the library for private conversations. However, a library is not a bedroom.” 

“What do you mean?”

“The only people in the house that night were the staff and Mrs. Woods. Nobody came in until after the murder. It could only have been someone inside the house.”

“I told you it was her.” Mrs. Graham said. “I always knew-“

“No, it wasn’t her,” Detective Adams said. 

A flurry of shocked faces filled the room. 

“That’s not possible…” Mrs. Graham said in a state of shock. 

“You see, Mr. Graham died while reading a peculiar book.” Detective Adams held the book up for everybody to see. The solicitor’s eyes enlarged. “This book was published by your press, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” the solicitor said, in a low voice.

“The author is Aaron White.” he asked.

“What’s so special about that book?” the maid asked. “Sir read it frequently.” 

“The book was in fact, written by Mr. Graham.”

“What!? I know nothing about this….” Mrs. Graham said. 

“Aaron White is the pen name of Mr. Graham. 

“What!?” 

“I heard of this when I visited the press.” he said. “Mr. Graham had a sister.”

“I don’t know anything about this.”

“They were separated at birth. He wanted to find her. That’s why he wrote this book. In fact, he wrote it after he found her.”

“Who is his sister?” Mrs. Graham asked, filled with curiosity. 

“Ruby Woods.” Detective Adams said. 

“No way….that’s not possible…” Mrs. Graham rested her back against the sofa. The maid handed her a glass of water. 

“There’s also something else that I discovered while reading the book,” Detective Adams said. “Mrs. Graham was very possessive about her husband.”

“Isn’t that normal for married couples?” The solicitor asked. 

“It is but her jealousy bordered on obsession. The staff knew of the frequent fights they had over Ruby Woods.” he said. 

“Any woman would feel threatened in my situation.” Mrs. Graham said. 

“But you actually went to the extent of killing your own husband.” Detective Adams said in a sharp voice. 

“Detective- this is rubbish.” she said frantically. “Why would I-“

“Exactly, why would you?” he said. “It wasn’t Mr. Graham you wanted to kill that night but Ruby Woods.” 

“I don’t understand-“

“You arrived early that night. One of the maids saw it and was gossiping about it. You came in through the back door. Being the mistress of the house, you had the key. Then, you headed to the kitchen where you heard of Ruby Wood’s presence. The maid left the tea to attend to her. Assuming that the tea was for Ruby, you dumped rat poison into it. Then, you disappeared. The chef saw your shadow when he left the kitchen. However, Mrs. Woods does not drink tea in the evening. The tea was for Mr. Graham. He drank his tea late that evening. That is how he died. When the butler visited the library, he found him dead.” 

“This is ridiculous! Why would I kill my husband?”

“I’m not saying you intended to kill him. Your intention was to kill Ruby Woods. Your relation had turned sore over the issue of Ruby. He refused to let her identity be known. He wouldn’t tell you about it. He also couldn’t stop meeting her. Therefore, he contrived the  idea of social justice. He partnered with her so that they would have more opportunities to meet. You didn’t like it. Jealously got the best of you. When you saw the cup of tea, your jealously overtook your senses. You assumed it was for Ruby Woods and poured the rat poison into it.” 

Bewildered expression filled the room. 

The police rushed in through the door. Marianne had done a good job of informing them in advance. A shaky Mrs. Graham was surrounded.

“I didn’t know it was for him…” she said weakly. “I thought it was for her….I never knew they were siblings….” 

She walked away weakly. Another case was over. The crowd dispersed. Detective Adams prepared to leave in the evening. 

He stood outside the train station with a suitcase clutched in his hand. He pulled his coat closer to his body. The sound of trains filled his ears. He gazed at the setting sun. The orange rays of the run lit up the sky. He smiled.

“Eddie.” he heard a loud voice call out. 

Ruby Woods appeared in the horizon. He turned around, his eyes widening with shock. She ran towards him dramatically. She wore a dark red blouse and a skirt. She panted, as she stopped before him. 

“Ruby…” he said, his eyes filling with emotion. 

“Thank you,” she said between two breaths. 

“Do you remember me?” he asked.

“I do…” she said. Their eyes met. “I waited for you. I wanted to wait for you but I couldn’t. Fate was cruel.” 

“I waited for you….I’ve waited for you all my life.” Detective Adams said. 

“I had to find my brother. Marrying was the only way. My husband knew him personally.” she said. “Oh Eddie, I didn’t have a choice.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure…I had to find my brother before I told you anything.” she said. 

“I always believed in you.” he said.

“I know. When I thought I wouldn’t meet you again, I wanted to die. But, my brother asked me to keep going.”

Their eyes met. Rays of light emanating from the warm orange sun were reflected in their eyes. They embraced. Detective Adams felt his heart beat for the first time in many years. He felt alive and vibrant. 

“All’s well that ends well.” he said. 

“Finally, we’re together.” Ruby said. 

“Forever…” he said, deepening the embrace. 

The suitcase fell to the floor. They walked hand in hand into the setting sun.