Chapter 6 - THE BLUE BOTTLE BENEATH THE NAPKINSPolice arrived quietly through the castle’s service entrance.
No sirens.
No flashing lights.
I had spent my life protecting family privacy.
That night, I protected evidence instead.
Detective Helen Cross led the response.
She was in her forties, direct and observant.
She listened to the recording Clara had made of Snow’s statements.
Then she examined the dining table.
The blue bottle was sealed inside an evidence bag.
The cake, marked napkin, crystal glasses, and recording clock were collected.
Preliminary examination found residue inside the bottle.
The substance required laboratory analysis.
Dr. Hale arrived while detectives were working.
He wore a dark suit rather than medical clothing.
He carried a leather bag.
He stopped when he saw police.
“What happened?”
Nathaniel answered before anyone else.
“Snow said something ridiculous.”
Dr. Hale looked at the bird in Clara’s arms.
“What did he say?”
I watched his face.
“We have to kill that old woman on her birthday.”
The doctor did not appear surprised enough.
His eyes moved toward the dining table.
Not toward me.
Toward the cake.
Detective Cross noticed.
“Were you involved in preparing the food?”
“No.”
“Why are you here?”
“Mr. Whitaker asked me to attend.”
Nathaniel corrected him.
“You volunteered.”
Dr. Hale looked at my grandson.
“I was told Mrs. Whitaker experienced dizziness.”
“I experienced no such thing,” I said.
The doctor’s gaze finally reached me.
“Eleanor, at your age—”
“At my age, I know whether a room is moving.”
He forced a smile.
“I meant no disrespect.”
Detective Cross asked to examine his medical bag.
Dr. Hale refused without a warrant.
That was his right.
It was also informative.
He claimed patient confidentiality.
I told him I consented to the review of anything concerning my care.
He still refused.
The detective did not argue.
She documented the refusal.
Rebecca sat near the fireplace.
Her shoulders shook.
I joined her.
“Tell me what you know.”
“I don’t know about killing you.”
“That is not the same as knowing nothing.”
She looked at me.
“Nathaniel said your estate plan would destroy the family.”
“My estate plan has not been announced.”
“He saw a draft.”
“How?”
Rebecca glanced toward the library.
The brass key.
My husband’s document cabinet.
Old estate papers stored beside current correspondence.
“He said you planned to give away the castle,” she whispered.
“I plan to place it in a charitable trust after my death.”
Her face crumpled.
“This is our home.”
“It is my home.”
“You inherited it from Father.”
“Your father left it to me.”
“And we receive nothing?”
“I did not say that.”
Nathaniel had converted uncertainty into panic.
Rebecca admitted helping him access the cabinet.
They found a draft will.
Then Nathaniel asked her to sign witness pages for a new power of attorney.
“Did you?”
Her silence answered.
Detective Cross approached carrying a folded napkin.
May you like
Hidden beneath the stack beside my place was a second blue bottle.
This one carried Dr. Hale’s prescription label.
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