Free Mrs. Jeffries and the Mistletoe Mix-Up by Emily Brightwell Page B

that’s just like him. He ignored Leon’s comment completely and kept wittering on about how we’d be so surprised by his latest acquisition. He was quite put out when his wife insisted we all leave. But he could hardly object, as everyone literally bolted for the door the moment it was acceptable to do so. The stench was terrible.”
    “I understand you and Mr. McCourt weren’t on the best of terms?” the inspector said.
    “That’s putting it mildly, Inspector,” he replied. “I haven’t spoken to him in over three years. Daniel conspired with my half brother to cheat me out of my share of our father’s estate.” He waved his hand around the darkened room. “You saw the men outside. They’re builders, and because of McCourt, I’m now forced to turn the top floors of my home into flats. That’s the only way I can hang on to my property.”
    “How did he cheat you, sir?” Barnes asked.
    Brunel smiled bitterly. “Daniel McCourt is our cousin. He was also the executor of my father’s estate. He and Leon, my half brother, have been friends since childhood. Between the two of them, they managed to ensure that I got a mere pittance of what was coming to me. They cheated me.”
    “Then why did you accept McCourt’s invitation?” Witherspoon asked.
    “I almost didn’t.” He shrugged. “Then I changed my mind. The truth is, I was curious. I was surprised to get an invitation. I went to see what he wanted.”
    “We understood Mr. McCourt had arranged the tea because he wanted to show off his latest antiquity acquisition,” the inspector said as he watched Brunel carefully for his reaction. “Was that not the case?”
    “That’s exactly what the man wanted. I’ve no idea why McCourt thought I’d be interested in one of those heathen things, but like a fool I accepted his invitation, thinking that perhaps he might have some other reason for wanting to see me. But it was the same old thing: Daniel showing off and being greedy. As soon as he walked into the drawing room, I realized I shouldn’t have come. If the fire hadn’t started and stunk up the house, I’d have found an excuse to leave in any case. Mr. Saxon and Mr. Raleigh were glaring at each other, Charles Cochran didn’t say a word to anyone, Elena McCourt was ill at ease, and Leon’s poor wife kept her eyes on the floor as if she wanted to memorize the pattern in the rug. It was most unpleasant.”
    “Are you saying that none of the guests wanted to be there?” Barnes asked.
    “That’s how it appeared to me.” Brunel laughed harshly.
    “But luckily, someone set the house on fire, and that gave everyone an excuse to go. Unfortunately for me, I left my wallet in the drawing room, and I was almost home before I realized what I’d done.”
    “So you went back to retrieve it?” Witherspoon pressed.
    “Is that correct?”
    “Correct. I’d started to go into the pub nearby, and out of habit, I’d patted the pocket where I keep my wallet. It wasn’t there.” He sighed. “Then I remembered I’d taken it out at the McCourts’ house and instead of putting it back into my coat pocket, I’d laid it down on the arm of the chair. So I had to go all the way back to get it.”
    “Which door did you use when you went back to the house?” Barnes asked.
    Brunel blinked, surprised by the question. “Why, the front one, of course. It was standing wide open, so I went straight inside.”
    “Did you see anyone?” the inspector asked.
    “No, so I started for the drawing room, and then I heard another commotion. Well, you know what I found when I went inside. Mrs. McCourt and the butler were standing there, both of them blubbering so badly I couldn’t tell what they were saying. Then I saw him lying there.” He looked away. “He was a greedy braggart and a thief, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.”
    Barnes stood up. “You could tell he was dead?”
    Brunel didn’t seem surprised by the constable’s sudden move to vacate his