Mrs. Jeffries Wins the Prize Read Online Free Page B

of the first door in the corridor and came toward them. “These things are from India, and the wallpaper, carpet, and statue were gifts from the maharaja to my late husband. But you’re not here to evaluate my décor, sir, but to take care of that nuisance in my conservatory,”
    â€œBy ‘nuisance,’ I assume you mean the dead man.” Barnes didn’t crack a smile as he spoke.
    The woman didn’t even bother to acknowledge his presence; she kept her attention on the inspector. “I’m HelenaRayburn and I take it you’re in charge of this investigation?”
    â€œThat is correct, ma’am. I’m Inspector Witherspoon and this is my colleague, Constable Barnes.”
    She barely nodded in the constable’s direction before turning on her heel and stalking back toward the open door. “We’re in here,” she snapped. “Do be quick about it, please, I need to get back into my conservatory and have a good look around to see if anything of value is missing.”
    They followed her into the drawing room, where two other women sat on a sofa. The smaller of the two gave them a shy smile while the other merely stared at them.
    Witherspoon glanced around the large room and noted the influence of India was even more prevalent here. Two bronze elephants the size of Saint Bernards flanked the green marble fireplace; every table, cabinet, and bookcase was covered with brilliantly colored cloths and runners. A collection of brass figurines, all in the same or similar shapes as the big one on the foyer table, filled three shelves of a huge armoire. Exotic flowers, none of which the inspector could identify, filled half a dozen large blue and white ceramic pots along the wall facing the windows.
    â€œPlease sit down,” Helena ordered.
    Barnes fixed her with the stare that had sent more than one criminal running for cover when he was patrolling the streets. “I need to interview your servants. I understand they’re in the kitchen.”
    She visibly drew back at his tone and then caught herself. “The back stairs are at the end of the corridor.”
    Barnes nodded politely to Witherspoon, who’d just sat down, and then left.
    â€œI take it all of you were here when the body was discovered?” Witherspoon waved his hand to include all three of them.
    â€œWe were. This is Mrs. Stanway”—Helena pointed to the small, curly-haired woman perched on the edge of the seat and then to the other woman—“and this is Mrs. Martell.”
    â€œWho discovered the body?” the inspector asked.
    â€œMy housekeeper, Mrs. Clemments,” Helena continued. “Luncheon was over, and we were having coffee when Mrs. Clemments came and said there was a problem in the conservatory. We went out to have a look.”
    â€œWho is ‘we’?” he interrupted. He’d learned it was very important to keep the sequence of events straight in his own mind.
    â€œAll of us. Mrs. Stanway and Mrs. Martell accompanied me. When we got to the door of the conservatory, the rest of the servants were standing there, but Mrs. Clemments shooed them down to the kitchen. The three of us went inside and found Mr. Filmore. I sent one of the maids for the police.”
    â€œMr. Filmore?”
    â€œHiram Filmore,” she replied. “He has a shop in Hammersmith and sometimes supplies me with plants.”
    â€œWhat did you do once you’d sent for help?” he asked.
    â€œWe closed the door and came back up here and waited, Inspector,” Helena replied.
    â€œThat’s not quite true, Helena.” Isabelle Martell spoke for the first time. “You looked around the conservatory to see if any of your plants were missing, remember.”
    â€œAnd I went to the lavatory to wash my hands,” Thea Stanway added.
    â€œSo you were in the conservatory for some time after you’d found the body?” He watched Helena