Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Martinez and I found ourselves in the breakfast room with Astrid a few minutes later. Like the rest of the house, the room was mostly glass and had a partially glass ceiling like a sunroom. The table was rectangular and black and there was a monstrosity of a flower arrangement sitting in the middle. On a sunny day, it was probably a very nice room to sit in, but with the rain pounding against the glass I felt like I was in a house designed by Morticia Addams.

"Have a seat, Ms. Nielsen," Martinez said, letting her sit at the head of the table.

"I saw a news alert about Evie after the EMTs took away Ms. Kitty," she said, her hands twisting in her lap. "I saw about the girl in the park early this morning, and I thought how bad it was to have such a horrible crime so close, and how sad it must be for the family to know they'd lost a child." She sucked in a shaky breath. "I didn't realize the child would be ours."

"It was after noon when you made the 911 call," Martinez said. "Didn't it strike you odd that you hadn't seen or heard from Mrs. Lidle?"

Astrid was already shaking her head. "Not at all," she said. "Ms. Kitty doesn't like to be disturbed before noon. I almost didn't come in at all today because she told us to take the next two days off, but then Molly called and told me about the dinner party and I knew I needed to prepare the house for guests. I arrived just after ten."

"What exactly does a house manager do?" Martinez asked.

"Anything and everything to make sure the lives of the family run smoothly. I organize everyone's schedules except for Mr. Lidle, as he has his own private secretary. I pay bills, hire staff, oversee raises and bonuses, coordinate events with vendors, and communicate with local charities about donations. On top of that I make sure the house is always presentable and ready for company should the need arise."

"That's an important job," Martinez said. "You must know everything about this house and the people in it."

The way Martinez said it had Astrid licking her lips nervously. "Of course. It's my job."

"You were saying Mrs. Lidle didn't like to be disturbed before noon?" he asked, leading her back into the conversation.

"Yes, well, I came straight in and got to work, and I didn't think about going up to the nursery to see if Ms. Kitty was still there with Evie. Normally she makes her way down whenever she rises and gets ready for the day. Molly always keeps fresh scones and pastries and hot coffee available on the sideboard in the mornings since no one prefers a hot breakfast. Ms. Kitty has always been very independent for as long as I've known her."

"How long is that?" Martinez asked.

"It'll be twenty-five years this August," she said. "I answered their employment advertisement as soon as I graduated from university. Mr. Phin and Mr. Everett were both still in high school, and Ms. Janet was just starting seventh grade. The Lidles liked for all of their staff to speak multiple languages because of the children, so they flew to Copenhagen to meet me in person. They arranged everything for me to come back to America with them."

"When was the last time you saw Evie and Mrs. Lidle?"

"It was before six," she said, licking her lips. "I went up about half five to see if I could remove the dishes from dinner, and while I was there Ms. Kitty asked if I'd make her some chamomile tea as she wasn't feeling too well."

"Did she and Evie both eat the chicken soup?" I asked.

"No, ma'am," Astrid said. "Only Miss Evie ate the soup and some sourdough bread. The dishes were empty when I came to get them. She must have been starving after not being able to keep anything in her stomach for so long."

"You brought the tea up for both of them?" I asked. "There were two cups."

"Out of habit," she said. "But Miss Evie doesn't like tea, so I knew she wouldn't drink it. I would normally bring her hot chocolate before bed, but I didn't think she was quite ready for that yet."

I tucked away that bit of information. The lab would test the cups to make sure, but if Evie was the only one to eat the soup, and Kitty was the only one who drank the tea, then that made our theory about being drugged a little more complicated.

"Had Mrs. Lidle been drinking when you saw her last?" Martinez asked.

Two spots of color appeared on Astrid's cheeks. "Molly shouldn't have said that. It's not our place to speak out against the Lidles. What they do in their personal lives is of no concern to us."

"Molly said not many people know about her drinking," he pressed on. "I assume you know?"

Astrid exhaled slowly, obviously trying to measure her words. "Of course," she said. "She says she can't sleep without having something to calm her nerves. She's always struggled with having a peaceful sleep, ever since I've known her. She told me once she didn't like the darkness. A drink or two before bed helps her relax."

"Had she had anything when you brought up the tea?" Martinez asked.

"It's hard to say," Astrid said. "I didn't see any glasses in the nursery, but like I said, she wasn't feeling well. But when she drinks she usually starts before the dinner hour. You'd be better off asking Molly that question. Sometimes Ms. Kitty and Molly will tipple together, as Molly so indelicately put it."

"What happened after you brought the tea?" Martinez asked.

"They were fine," she said, almost pleading with us. "They were both fine. Ms. Kitty was sitting in the pink lady's chair next to the window, pouring her tea, and Miss Evie was reading a book on the rug. I brought the supper dishes back to the kitchen and loaded them in the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. Ms. Kitty asked me to set the alarm before I left so I did. And then I locked the door behind me and went home. It doesn't make any sense. They were fine. "

Her voice had a ring of hysteria to it, but the facts remained that she and Molly were the last two people to see Evie alive.

"And then when I came in today I didn't think to check on either of them," she said, panting for breath. "I was worried about what Mr. Lidle would say if everything wasn't perfect for his guests. I had a list of calls to make—the florist, musicians, extra security since there would be dignitaries on-site. I didn't go check on them right off. Maybe if I'd come in earlier I could have made a difference."

"No," I told her. "Evie was taken last night. There's nothing you could have done."

"Ms. Kitty never would have let anyone take Evie if she'd been able. She would have fought. Ms. Kitty was no one to be messed with, especially when it involved one of her children. She's a formidable woman. She was always protective of the children."

"I imagine she'd have to be to run her family's empire for as long as she did," Martinez said. "You mentioned that you left and went home last night. Where is home?"

"About a mile south," she said. "There's a road that cuts behind the stables and the staff cottages are located there."

"Which staff live there?" Martinez asked.

"Me, Molly, and Geoffrey," she said. "Geoffrey is Mr. Lidle's secretary, so he frequently travels with Mr. Lidle. Also Alex. He runs the stables. We're the only staff who live on the property full-time. There's a farmhand house where several of the trainers live, but many of them have families now and live in their own homes. It's on the other side of the stables. We'll occasionally have visiting jockeys and owners stay in the guesthouses. We're expecting some in the next week or so as they prepare for the derby the first weekend in May. But as far as full-time employees who work inside the house or immediate grounds, there are twenty-five. Probably another twenty-five to thirty contractors who come in as needed, depending on the event or time of year."

"Can you get me a list?" Martinez asked.

She nodded. "Of course."

"Who has access to the gates?" I asked her.

"All staff have access to the back gate," she said. "There's another entrance to the property on the west side where we are supposed to enter and exit the property. Everyone who uses that gate has passed a background check and has a key card to get inside.

"There's another entrance on the east side," she continued. "That's where the horse trailers and anyone who has ranch business come in and out. But it's also guarded and names are taken at the gate of any guests.

"Everything is documented. We always know who is on the premises at any given time. There's another gate not far from the staff entrance where deliveries are brought through and contractors or catering vans would check in. And there's a garage for staff vehicles just past those trees." She pointed to the thickly forested area, though it was impossible to see anything with the rain coming down so hard.

"How do the staff get to the house or stables from the garage?" I asked, curious.

"There's a call button in the garage," she said, "Rodney is one of the groundsmen and he drives the staff van down to pick us up throughout our shifts, and then he'll drive us back at the end of the day."

"Sounds like quite the operation," Martinez said. "Who has access to the house alarm codes?"

She chewed on her lip as she thought. "Me, Molly, and Geoffrey as far as I know. As well as the Lidles and all of their children. I'm not sure anyone really keeps track. We've always felt very safe here." She rubbed her arms as if she were cold.

"And you did set the alarm?" Martinez asked.

"Yes," she said. "I was the last one out of the house. I set the alarm and left."

"Has anyone ever made threats before or breached the house?" he asked.

"Threats, sure," she said. "Sometimes still. Mr. Lidle makes enemies because of certain projects he supports, so he'll get emails. This address is not listed publically, but obviously the press or anyone can find it. His staff gets his personal correspondence. It doesn't come here."

"Tell me about Mr. Lidle," Martinez said, and I could tell that we'd struck a nerve.

Astrid's body language changed and she looked toward the kitchen, as if she were trying to see if anyone were listening.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Ms. Nielsen," Martinez said. "Evie Lidle was brutally and violently murdered, and she was last seen alive right here in this house. We are trying to find out who could have taken her right out from under everyone's noses. Maybe you don't understand, but you've just told me that there's a security team on this property, guards at all the entrances and exits, and that staff pretty much have the run of the estate. It makes it much more likely that someone was already inside the house when she was taken versus a stranger that breached the property.

"And you've also just told me you were the last person to leave the house and you set the alarm behind you, which only a few people have the code. Do you see the problem?"

"Someone already in the house?" she asked, realization dawning. And then her mouth gaped open in shock. "Me? I am a suspect? Because I saw them last? I would never hurt anyone. Everyone here adores Ms. Kitty and the children."

"And yet you keep leaving Mr. Lidle out of the family praise," Martinez said coldly. "Tell me about Mr. Lidle. When did you see him last?"

Her face paled as she finally realized the severity of her predicament. "Sunday morning," she said with a slight hesitation. "He likes to read the paper and have coffee in his study on Sunday mornings while Meet the Press plays in the background. He's very regimented about his schedule.

"I brought him his coffee just before nine o'clock," she said. "I alerted him that Mr. Everett was planning to drop Evie off at the house on their way to church and that she was ill. He informed me that he would be leaving for DC within the hour, and told me to relay the information to Ms. Kitty. He said he had important meetings lined up for the entire week, and he wasn't sure when he would be back. He's been pushing Ms. Janet to get a gun bill through to Congress."

"Mr. Lidle wasn't successful in his run for Senate," Martinez said. "Does he often try to get his own agenda passed through his daughter?"

Her cheeks colored slightly, and I knew that's exactly what Robert Lidle was doing. "You'd have to ask him about that. I'm not up to speed on his projects."

I wasn't sure, but I thought I detected a bit of bitterness in her response.

"You've always lived in the staff cottage?" Martinez asked. "Do you have a family?"

"I was married once," she said. "For just a short time. Maybe a year after I came to America. But it was over after a few months. And I don't have any children. The Lidles are my family."

"And there was nothing unusual that happened leading up to Evie's disappearance? Anything or anyone suspicious? No strange deliveries? Anyone call in sick?"

"No," she said softly. "We all loved Evie."

"We may have more questions for you," Martinez said, passing her his card. "And if you have any information for us you can reach me at this number. As part of the investigation we have to inform you not to leave town."

We left her sitting at the table, staring out at the rain, and we went back into the kitchen to find Molly taking a tray of cookies out of the oven. Despite Martinez's assurance that I was buying lunch, we were well past the lunch hour and I'd only had a singular donut to get me through the day. The sugar rush had long since passed.

Walters was still standing guard, and he was practically licking his lips. He caught my gaze and I shook my head slightly, warning him not to eat anything. I could see a little bit of life drain out of him.

"Where is the tea kept?" I asked Molly.

"In the pantry," she said. "Ms. Kitty loves her tea. She has loose leaf in just about every flavor."

"Astrid said she brought Mrs. Lidle chamomile tea last night," I said. "We're going to need to take that with us."

She wiped her hands on a dish towel and her brows rose. "Are ye now?" And then she looked thoughtful. "And I'm guessing you're wondering if I've got any of that soup left too."

"I was wondering that," Martinez said.

"Well it happens I do," she said. "I was going to eat it for me own supper. Let me get you the tea." And then she opened up a hidden panel in the cabinets and walked into a pantry large enough to host a dinner party.

"Jack's going to be sad he missed this place," I whispered to Martinez. "He's got a weird fascination about pantries. Loves them. I have no idea why."

"You don't know why because you don't cook," he said. "Anyone who spends any time in a kitchen loves a well-organized pantry."

"I've learned so much about you today," I said. "I never imagined you in a kitchen."

"I have a lot of family members in the food industry," he said. "I worked in my fair share of kitchens when I was younger."

"I waited tables in college," Walters said, eyeing the cookies again. "Here's my thought. If she takes one of those cookies and eats it then I say we have nothing to lose. I haven't eaten lunch today."

I liked Walters. He was homegrown and had joined the force right after high school graduation. He wasn't the smartest guy in the room. And he wasn't the dumbest either. He did well as a patrolman and had no ambition to rise up through the ranks. He liked taking calls and making traffic stops, and he seemed content with that lot in life.

"Get in line," Martinez told him. "Doc's trying to get out of buying me lunch."

"Lies," I said, shaking my head. "Vicious lies. You're mean when you're hungry."

"Here ye are," Molly said, coming back in with a glass container filled with tea leaves. And then she went to the subzero refrigerator and took out a container of soup, plopping it onto the counter next to the tea. "I'm tired of coffee. I'm having whiskey with my cookies. It seems like today calls for it. Bless her sweet soul." She mopped the tears in her eyes with her apron.

I was starting to like Molly Ryan, so I hoped she wasn't an accomplice to murder. She was obviously comfortable in the kitchen, and she took a decanter out from under the counter and she reached in her apron and took out a glass.

I raised my brows at Martinez, wondering if she always kept glasses in her apron.

There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief when Molly selected two cookies and took a bite out of one.

"Help yerselves," she said.

Walters made his way to the cookie tray, but Martinez and I stayed where we were and decided Walters could take one for the team. He was a grown man and he could make his own life or death decisions.

"Mrs. Ryan," Martinez said.

"Call me Molly," she corrected. "Everyone does. I've been widowed for forty-one years. I don't even remember who Mrs. Ryan is anymore. Me husband, John, was Frank Lazarus's valet. Frank was Kitty's father ye see. And I was Mrs. Lazarus's personal maid. Kitty and I practically grew up together."

"You grew up in the Lazarus household?" I asked.

"Four generations of my family have worked for the Lazarus family," she said proudly. "Me parents, meself, and me son and granddaughter. They both work with the horses at the stables. The Irish are horse whisperers ye know." She took a generous drink and her eyes unfocused as she remembered things long past.

"I remember getting off the boat at four years old with me parents and coming through Ellis Island. That was just a few years before it was shut down. They had their papers and we all arrived at this grand house in New York. I thought I'd won a prize. The Lazaruses worked hard and demanded a great deal, but they've always been generous and good people. I got an education and I learned to work me fingers to the bone, but they paid us all well for our loyalty. And when I turned seventeen Mrs. Lazarus asked if I'd be her personal maid. Me mother was so proud I thought she'd take an advertisement in the paper."

Molly began humming softly and poured another two fingers into her glass. "We had a few good years together, John and I, before he died. Me only twenty-four with a babe on me hip and another on the way."

"I'm sorry," I told her. "I can't imagine."

"Aye, ye can't," she said, shaking her head sadly. "Died being a hero, he did. Kitty's pup got tangled in the weeds of the lake and John waded out, thinking to get him free. But it was deeper than it looked and he got tangled. He couldn't swim, the fool. By the time the men got out there to cut him loose John and the pup were dead. It was a horrible time.

"Kitty was engaged to be married to Robert Lidle and the pup had been a present from him. They married the next year, and Kitty's mother asked me if I'd go with Kitty and make sure she got settled into her marriage and new home. So I went, and I've been with her ever since. I was here when the children were born. Then the grandchildren came."

She dabbed at her eyes. It seemed the whiskey had loosed the dam of her tears along with her tongue.

"We need to find out what happened to Evie," Martinez said, trying to get her back on track. "Had Kitty had anything to eat or drink before Astrid brought her the tea?"

"I brought her a piece of dry toast and told her to see if she could keep it down," she said. "I could tell by looking at her that she was going to be sick. But Kitty has a stubborn streak. Won't settle in for the night without having a little something to warm her belly."

"Astrid said Mrs. Lidle has trouble sleeping at night," I told her.

"Well of course she does," Molly said. "She's always had nightmares. Started about a year before John passed on. Terrible night terrors she had. No one could figure out why, and she could never remember them. After Ms. Kitty and Robert were married for a few years he eventually moved into his own bedroom so he could sleep at night. It wasn't long after that she started lulling herself to sleep with a little whiskey. And who could blame her?"

"Where would she have gotten the whiskey if you or Astrid didn't bring it to her?"

Molly rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Ms. Kitty has her stashes all about the house. Same as her cigarettes. She likes a smoke every now and then, but likes to think to think no one knows about them. Mr. Lidle does the same. Tis about the only thing the two of them have in common."

"A secret from the staff? Or her family?" Martinez prodded.

"Ye don't understand," Molly said. "Kitty is a brilliant woman. Ye have to be to expand a company that started by making ketchup into owning a majority share of the food market worldwide. I think there are very few people who know the real Kitty, and that includes her family. You would never know she'd been drinking. She could function as well as anyone. Kitty had her demons to deal with, and I say whatever helped her deal with them is her business."

"Did all the staff listen to Kitty's orders and go home?" I asked. "Was anyone still around when you and Astrid left for the evening?"

She hummed a little more as she thought, and then she said, "Astrid was still here when I left. And Rodney. He drove me back to me cottage. We passed Hector out by the pond and I waved to him as we passed by. He's the head groundskeeper. All the rain is killing some of his more delicate plants, so he's been a bit short of temper lately."

"Anyone else?"

"Could have been, but not that I saw," she said. "Fact of the matter is there's always people around here and there. The house seems quite open and deserted, but we have staff passages to get to different wings of the house quickly. You get used to seeing people here and there behind the scenes, but there's also a quietness about the house that can only be achieved by a well-trained staff." There was pride in her voice as she said it. "We're not to be seen or heard, and we aren't. I don't recall seeing anyone else on my way out, though Alan would have been about, as well as the other guards and anyone down at the stables."

"Alan Goble?" Martinez asked. "We met him at the gate."

"He's head of security," she said, but the sneer in her voice was unmistakable. "You'd think they were the secret service the way they go about. This house is twenty thousand square feet, and there are more than four hundred acres to keep in check."

"Do you know his schedule?" Martinez asked.

She scoffed and finished her cookie. "I know everyone's schedule. We keep a master list of all full- and part-time staff, as well as their hours and contact information."

Molly opened a drawer in the island and pulled out a laminated sheet, handing it to Martinez.

"I appreciate it," he said. "I take it you don't care for Alan?"

"Well, I'm not one to speak out of turn," she said. Her cheeks were flushed and her brogue was getting thicker with every drink. "But Alan has an eye for the ladies he does. It's gotten to the point where Astrid has to warn the new female hires to keep their knickers on when he's around. Thinks he's God's gift to women, and more than one woman in this house has fallen on her back because of his charm."

"Alan doesn't live on the property?" Martinez asked.

"Has himself a house over in Bowling Green, but everybody knows he likes to diddle with the help out in the stables. And I've heard rumors he's seduced a lady or two in the Lidles' garage and one of the guardhouses. Likes to pretend he's lord of the castle, I'm sure. Alex has caught him in the act more than once."

"His behavior doesn't bother the Lidles?"

Molly clucked her tongue. "Mr. Lidle cares about resumes, not behavior. And Alan has an excellent resume. But his resume didn't protect my sweet Evie."

"I thought Astrid did the hiring and firing?" Martinez asked.

"For everyone but security," Molly said. "Mr. Lidle has always said the safety of his family is too important not to take care of himself."

She mopped her eyes again and then reached under the counter for three more glasses, pouring a generous amount of whiskey in each and pushing the glasses toward us.

Martinez opened his mouth to tell her that we couldn't accept it, but she launched into a tribute.

"To my darling Evie," she said, sniffling and wiping her eyes on her apron again. "Poor, sweet girl." She raised her glass and her voice rang like bells throughout the kitchen as she gave an Irish toast. "Death leaves a heartache no one can heal. Love leaves a memory no one can steal. Sláinte." She drained the glass, and I watched in fascination as she picked up Martinez's glass and drained it too.

"Uhh," Martinez said, and I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, wondering if it was worth asking any more questions. I guessed he figured it was since she was still standing on two feet.

"What did Mr. Lidle say when you called to tell him his dinner party was off?"

She snorted indelicately. "I left a message with Geoffrey." She pursed her lips tightly. "Apparently Mr. Lidle was in a very important meeting and wasn't to be disturbed." She picked up my glass and drank. "The things me poor Katherine has put up with through the years would turn yer hair blue."

"Mrs. Ryan. Molly," I said. "Can you tell me what Evie was wearing when you last saw her?"

She sat her glass down with a thunk and stared at me with watery green eyes that had probably been bright and vibrant when she was young.

"Her clothes?" she asked. And I knew she knew why I was asking. "She was wearing her pajamas. I'd set them out for her meself after she'd had her shower. They were pink pants with white flowers on them and a white shirt with pink trim on the collar and sleeves. There was a pink kitten on the front of the shirt with soft fur. They were her favorite pajamas."

"What about a locket?" I asked.

The air seemed to go out of Molly Ryan. She looked old and tired, and her hands shook slightly as she toyed with her glass.

"Aye," she said. "A gift from her father a couple of years ago. I believe he gave all his girls one. Evie always wore it. She never took it off. Never."

"Detective Martinez," Plank said, sticking his head in the kitchen door. "Can I see you for a minute?"

"Officer Walters," Martinez said. "Why don't you drive Molly back to her cottage so she can get some rest."

"No time for rest," she said, her voice regaining its strength. She waved Walters away like she was afraid he was going to toss her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. "I've got meals to prep for the week. The house will be teeming with people once the news about Evie reaches everyone. Bless her soul. Sit over there, young Walters, and you can chop carrots for the chicken potpie. Make sure you wash up first."

Walters looked like a deer caught in headlights, but he went to the sink to wash up.

"If you remember anything that might help us find out what happened to Evie," Martinez said, "I'd like for you to give me a call. This is my cell number." He handed her a card, and when she went to take it from him he didn't let go. "Even if you remember secrets, Molly. Someone took Evie from this house and murdered her. Who could have done something like that?"

Molly's hand trembled and Martinez let go of the card. "I don't know who would do such a thing," she said softly. "She's resting with the angels now." She put the card in her apron pocket and turned away.

Martinez and I left Walters to babysitting duty, and we followed Plank out of the kitchen and into a side room I hadn't noticed on the way through the house the first time. A grand piano sat in the middle of the room on top of a rug in muted shades of red. There was a harp in the corner and a small dais I could only assume was used for musical performances.

"This place is weird," I said, looking around. "It's like it's not even lived in."

"You have no idea how weird," Plank said. "Did you know there are hidden hallways throughout the entire house? Chen found one by accident."

"Let me guess," Martinez said. "There's an entrance right into the room where Evie Lidle was staying."

"Bingo," Plank said. "Chen noticed one of the built-in bookcases had hinges and when she pulled it opened right up."

"Molly told us about the staff passageways," Martinez said.

"It's funny Astrid didn't bring it up though," I said. "Seems like something the house manager would volunteer."

"What did you find on the security footage?"

Plank's cheeks flushed with irritation. "There is no security footage. At least not that I can access. The security cameras are all digital. Everything goes into a cloud, and you can access up to twelve months of video through a monitoring service. But everything for the last three days has been wiped clean."

"Ever since Evie arrived," I said.

"Call in Derby from IT," Martinez said. "Maybe he can work his magic. And let's get a warrant for the monitoring company. Maybe they keep storage in a hard drive that we can access."

"Yes, sir," Plank said. "Lieutenant Daniels and her team are upstairs."

"Good," Martinez said and then handed Plank the list of staff members. "Let's start hunting down the staff. Especially Alan Goble. He's head of security. Set up a meeting with him ASAP. I want to know if anyone didn't show up for work who was supposed to. And get alibis for everyone yesterday between four and midnight. Doc and I are going down to the stables."