Free Cherringham--The Last Puzzle by Neil Richards Page B

butcher’s-block top in the centre of the room.
    Now Sarah sat in one of the chairs, as Jack poured the hot water from the kettle into a pair of delicate cups.
    “You’ve been quiet,” she said to him.
    “Need to concentrate on the tea, no?” he said with a grin.
    But she knew the truth.
    Grappling with Sarah’s sudden insight, evidence or not, Jack was now thinking about what it meant, where it led.
    “Okay,” he said, dropping a single cube of sugar into his tea. “Need you to check me on this. But, I don’t see Emma capable of killing the man.”
    “Agree on that one. But her Marty?”
    “Well — I’ve gone toe-to-toe with him. Bit of a brute, desperate even — but I doubt that he’s a killer.”
    “So who then?”
    Another laugh. “Any of them. Emma did say that it looked like people had been here while she was away on her vacation. But do you think she could have kept something back, about what happened?”
    “Like what?”
    “She said that on the evening Quentin died, she left for the day, just as she normally did,” Jack said. “But how do we know that’s true?”
    “What do you mean? You think she left earlier? But why would she do that?”
    “Maybe somebody asked her to.”
    “But what would she have to gain?”
    “Money? Big motivator. And her Marty? Desperate guy. Imagine he could be persuaded to do a lot of things — short of murder.”
    Sarah nodded … it all becoming clear. “So say she leaves the house … And clears the way for a visitor …”
    “Who triggers an attack — and then keeps Quentin away from his pills.”
    “God, Jack. That’s grisly.”
    “Pretty cold blooded.”
    Sarah took a sip of her tea. Just a bit of lemon, bit of sugar. A smoky billow from the cup, a perfect match for her thoughts.
    “There is one person who could tell us if we’re on the right track,” Sarah said.
    “Emma?”
    A nod. “ If she’ll tell us. Though with Marty by her side, I doubt she’ll say much.”
    Jack looked around the brightly lit kitchen.
    “You’re right. And why would she or Marty talk now, even if we tried to threaten them. We have, as they would say in Brooklyn, nuttin …”
    “Wait a second, Jack.”
    Sarah got off the stool. “She said there’d been a lot of cups here, when she came back after her days off, yes?”
    “Meaning?”
    “Well, maybe it wasn’t just one person who came to hear Quentin’s plans for his money. What if he met all the heirs, baiting them with the quest he had planned. And what if you needed money?”
    “Not only that,” Jack said. “I mean … what would be the best way to guarantee getting some of the millions?”
    She hadn’t even thought about that.
    “What if a couple of them worked together?” Jack said.
    Both of them following that thought, the suspicions …
    Evidence or no evidence.
    “Could be, right? That would certainly guarantee you’d get a big cut of the prize.”
    Jack downed his tea.
    “That’s interesting,” he said. “Now if we had an idea on how we could find out if that happened …”
    “I know how you think, Jack. You mean, trap them?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well I’ve got an idea about that too. Let’s go back to my place. I think it will be easier to show you there.”
    “And Emma?”
    “I’m afraid you’ll have to have another chat with her.”
    “My guess … now with Marty by her side …”
    “Unfortunately.”
    “Well, Tony did ask for our help in this. I’ll give him a call and update him while we’re en-route.”
    Sarah started for the door out of the kitchen to the front of the house. “And won’t he be surprised …”
    “Doesn’t surprise easily I imagine, But all this …” Jack said following her. “Don’t think our good friend will have seen it coming.”

13. Changing Rules
    Sarah listened as Jack updated Tony Standish.
    “Right, it all fits Tony. But we don’t have anything, hence we’re—”
    Jack looked over: they were only a couple of minutes’ drive away from her