Read Christmas is Murder for Free Online Page A

wonders for a girl’s complexion,” Rosie said with a strained laugh. “But London born and bred, I am.”
    “Quite a change, then. What do you do here?”
    “At work? I waitress. The cleaning staff come in mornings but not since the blizzard, so I help with making up the beds and such as well.”
    “Do you ever help out in the kitchen?”
    “Only when we’re shorthanded.”
    “Like now, I imagine.”
    “Yes, but Mrs. Bellows prepared a lot in advance, stuffed the freezer sort of thing. The pastries are fresh-baked every day, of course.”
    “Did you help with the almond tarts?”
    Rosie gave a start of surprise. “No, they were ready on a tray for me to take in. Are you asking these questions because of Mr. Lawdry’s death? It was to be expected—he was in poor health.”
    “So I understand, but Mrs. Smithings agreed that I should talk to the staff.” Rosie’s plum-dark eyes slid to her employer’s door. “So—you served tea in the drawing room,” Rex continued. “Did everyone partake of the almond tarts?”
    “Well, the newlyweds weren’t down yet. All the other guests were there. Then I left. Mr. Smart doesn’t eat sweets. The two women friends—the Abs-Fabs Duo I call them—they always make a big to-do about watching their weight, but they eat whatever’s put in front of them. The American is the same way.”
    “Where did you put the tray?”
    “On the round table. I let everyone help themselves. They all know tea is at four thirty, but not everyone’s here on the dot, so I just leave them to it.”
    “Just one more question, Rosie. Do you recall who was in the kitchen when you picked up the tray?”
    “Cook and Mrs. Smithings. And when I got back, Clifford was there mucking in with the potatoes.”
    After he left Rosie, Rex bounded up the stairs, reflecting that there never would have been any suspicion of cyanide poisoning, had Charlie not been around to attend to Lawdry. And he himself would not be in the process of questioning the staff and taking more than a casual interest in the guests. So much for his relaxing Christmas.
    He fed the puppy the chicken scraps and decided to join his fellow guests in the drawing room for further observation. There might be more to them than met the eye, and it was just conceivable one of them had managed to slip the cyanide directly into Lawdry’s tart. As he stepped out of his room, Mrs. Dahlia Smithings was coming up the stairs.
    “Did you find out anything of interest?” she asked.
    “Well,” Rex said, drawing closer to her. “Charley found an empty container of sodium cyanide in the dustbin outside.”
    “Ah, yes. Well, we use that for cleaning jewellery and such. We buy it by the pound from a pharmaceutical company in Brighton.”
    Rex coughed politely. “A fact you omitted to mention earlier on, Mrs. Smithings.”
    “It slipped my mind. Things do at my age, you know.”
    He showed her the container. “Is this the jar?”
    “I believe so.”
    “Where did you keep it?”
    “On a shelf in the scullery with the other cleaning products.”
    “Clifford said the jewellery hasna been cleaned in awhile.”
    “Clifford! I’m surprised you were able to make out his gibberish. He speaks that way on purpose, you know.”
    “This does rather support Charley’s theory of poisoning, deliberate or otherwise …”
    “Charley may be making it all up and have planted the container himself.”
    “Aye, but the lad is a medic and he seems to have his head screwed on tight. I canna see him doing this just to create a bit o’ drama.”
    “Young men are prone to pulling pranks.”
    Ah, yes—Rodney. Her son had certainly been one for pranks. Mrs. Smithings looked wistful, as though she were thinking of him at that moment.
    “Rodney died a hero,” he said. “You must be proud of him.”
    Her lips tightened into a thin line. “Since my son is not here, what can he possibly have to do with any of this?”
    “I’m sorry,” Rex stammered, somewhat