Lornbridge Hills – Day 7

After meeting Jeremy last night at the bar, the pieces of this mystery finally clicked into place. I should have caught on sooner. With so many lies and ulterior motives on one estate, it’s hard to keep up.

This morning I had to make a phone call to confirm a growing suspicion, one which became far more sinister than I expected as I pondered on it overnight. The phone call went exactly as I thought it would, and now I’m ready to pay a visit to the murderer’s residence.

Sian’s killer isn’t at home, so I walk around to the back of her house and look at the patio and the filled in ditches that she did herself.  Why wouldn’t an ageing woman let the construction company do this task for her? Why be in such a rush to fill over those ditches? Through the large french windows at the back of the house I spot a pot of honey tea boiling. I felt quite lightheaded when I drunk it during my first meeting with Margaret Haverford. At the time I put it down to stress, but now I know the truth. On Friday December 29th Margaret Haverford returned from her benefit, sick. At this point it was reported that Mitchell had left for the airport as he was due to be leaving that evening. However, Margaret did not find the house empty upon her return as she claimed.

I look towards the back of the garden where the golf course is visible. Little golf carts are scattered around nearby. I turn around, Margaret has arrived home.

“Oh, hello! Here for another chat? Honey tea, detective?”

“No, no tea for me. And I recommend you stop drinking it yourself. It’s making you sick. Margaret Haverford, you’re under arrest for the murders of Sian Kowlinski and Mitchell Haverford.”

*

Later on, I sit with Mick and Bates at the station. Mick can hardly believe that the refined middle aged woman I’ve brought in could be responsible for two deaths. I can see Bates working it out though, the gears in his head turning.

“The coroner’s report indicated a plant toxin was responsible,” I tell them both. “Everyone knows about their flowers in Lornbridge Hills so it was difficult to identify who was using plant substances to kill. It was only when a friend of mine, Jeremy, mentioned the word nectar that I was able to hone in on one particular suspect, a suspect that I still had a few questions about. I instantly made the link between nectar and the honey tea Margaret constantly drinks. I think she’s developing an addiction to it. The small doses of rhododendron honey she uses are enough to cause sickness. Rhododendrons are ubiquitous on the estate so they immediately came to mind. When I arrived home last night I researched rhododendron toxicity.  It turns out this mad honey toxin can cause nausea, dizziness, loss of balance and difficulty in breathing. Just one cup of that tea made me feel a little strange.”

“Sian was home from college last weekend. On Friday 29th, she had been chatting to her friend Emily while searching Booking.com for rooms in Greece, where she was planning to meet Mitchell Haverford. Sian, as we know, had a thing for older men and Mitchell, who I believe had been having affairs for years, was her next pursuit. It was clear Sian gravitated to older men – look at how close she was with her father, for example. At first it made me wonder if Joseph was somehow involved, but no. That was purely paternal. Mitchell, on the other hand, was reciprocating. He couldn’t believe his luck, I expect. He had been sending Sian souvenirs from Switzerland. I found some in her room. She never went to Switzerland on her trip with Emily. It was made very clear by her parents, Emily Beal, and even Serafina Morton, that she travelled to Italy, Greece and Germany. Yet in her room I found a Swatch watch, Chocolat Frey and a souvenir alphorn. All distinctly Swiss. I imagine Mitchell and Sian had been meeting secretly when Mitchell was back in Lornbridge Hills last year. While he was in Switzerland, I believe he travelled to Greece to see Sian, with Emily unaware. Emily mentioned that Sian went out alone several nights and didn’t return until the next morning. Plus, Greece was the country of choice for meeting up again once Mitchell was back in Switzerland. Not that he ever made it to Switzerland this time, of course.”

“On the evening of the 29th, Sian left her house to meet up with Mitchell at the Haverford residence so that they could say goodbye to each other before Mitchell’s flight. She waited until Margaret had left for the benefit. It’s likely that Mitchell timed his flight back with the evening of the benefit so Margaret wouldn’t be there, and told her that his flight was earlier than it actually was. This plan of one last night together would prove fatal for them both.”

“Unfortunately for them, Margaret came home earlier than expected, sick from her continous honey tea intake, and found them together on the outdoor terrace. In a rage, she picked up one of the iron fence posts still to be fixed in place and slammed it against Mitchell’s head with intent to kill. This weapon of choice is speculative, but once they dig up Mitchell’s body from the irrigation ditch on the terrace, I do believe this will be the proven weapon.” Bates gives an audiable gasp. I continue. “She also hit Sian with the post, her heart still full of rage, but without the same intent to kill. However after this blow to her head, Sian collapsed.”

“Margaret would have dragged Mitchell’s body to the irrigation ditch. She therefore had to finish the construction of the ditch herself to hide the body, to the construction man’s confusion a week later. Her internet searches revealed research on irrigation ditches. Sian, meanwhile, was in a state of semi-consciousness. She was dragged by Margaret along the unfinished terrace and into the house, unsure what to do with her, causing the limestone abrasions I was confused about. At first, I wondered if the limestone found on Sian came from the golf course, or even the Burbank’s new house. But of course, limestone is often used for patio stones. Sian was then force fed large quantities of the toxic mad honey to keep her delirious, gathered from the rhododendrons, of which Margaret and many other neighbours have many. Margaret had been experimenting with this rhodendendron honey for a while. We’ll have to question her to determine how long exactly. She began to enjoy the heady feeling small quantities of the honey gave her when prepared as a tea. Because Sian consumed nothing but this over the weekend in her half awake state, nothing was found in her system – the honey toxin had already left.”

“When I checked Margaret’s activity for Saturday she stated she was tackling her garden,” Bates says, shocked. Johanna saw her in the garden as well… turns out she’d been burying her husband!”

“Yes. With the irrigation ditch now mostly filled, what could she do with Sian after she died from the toxin on the 31st? Margaret decided to take her to the woods later that afternoon by using a golf cart and driving behind the neighbouring houses. She quickly dumped Sian’s body, only shallowly burying her because she heard Eddie and Serafina on their way, who discovered the body.”

“Margaret, usually so neat and orderly, knew her husband was having affairs, I suspect. I could hear it in the way she spoke of her marriage. But the fact he was having one with Sian was what broke her and make her lash out in rage. She had been trying to help Sian for many months, and the two of them had thrown it back in her face by doing this. She realised that the reason her and Sian had grown apart was because Mitchell and Sian had grown closer. She had refused to believe the bad words Johanna Howell and other neighbours had been saying about Sian, but she now accepts that they were right all along. Sian betrayed her so she lashed out. Mitchell however, her husband of 25 years, should have known better than to choose Sian as a distraction. It was too close to home, and Sian was so young. It ruined the image of everything the Haverfords had built up – the perfect, neat and orderly life in Lornbridge Hills with the one small issue of Mitchell’s affairs out of sight, out of mind.”

“This morning I just had to make a call to Mitchell’s office in Interlaken to confirm he’s not there. I was informed by a receptionist that he’s been sending messages through to let them know he’s been delayed and has decided to work from home a while longer. These messages must have been sent by Margaret using his phone, stalling until she works out where to take it from here. After a little probing, the receptionist also told me that during his last stay in Interlaken he could often be found wrapping gifts and sending them to Lornbridge Hills. The receptionist assumed they were for Margaret. Now, the problem is Margaret showed Bates messages from Mitchell that she’d sent herself saying he was in Switzerland, yet the messages she sent to the receptionist say he wasn’t. She was playing with fire.”

“And here I was thinking that the Neal’s had something to do with this, or perhaps Sian’s mother!” Mick says, shaking his head.

“Oh, Aisling Kowlinksi has her own murky past as we now all know, but she loved Sian. She would never kill her. There was never a reason for her to do so. As for the Neals, well, the most likely culprit would have been Clarissa – but the difference between Clarissa and Margaret is Margaret’s connection to Sian. This was an emotionally fuelled act. Clarissa’s motivations were all very superficial. Bribery, in order to keep up appearances. These people don’t like being made fools of, you see. Look at Samantha Burbank and her Dunginabox revenge, or Johanna Howell’s hasty decision to divorce her husband.

“I thought it was Eddie Cho,” Bates says, blushing.

“Ah, all Eddie wants is a little happiness, I think,” I reply. “Poor man. He loves his work, but his unsatisfactory home life has lead him to wonder what he really desires. I would be curious to know if he’s even bisexual at all, as perhaps all he’s looking for is a stable, predictable routine at Lornbridge Hills and that’s exactly what Serafina Morton offers.”

“Well Fran, good job. And thanks to your, uh, “friend” too.” I roll my eyes. “Bates, you’ve worked hard here as well.” Bates smiles and nods. I imagine in his mind he’s saying that it’s not a problem, but he wouldn’t mind spending more time investigating and less time completing paperwork on the next case. I’d be happy for that to happen. I quite like the kid. One person I like more though is Jeremy, and he’s my first call when I leave the station. I think a few gins right now is a suitable ending to this case.

© Intrigue Inn

We hope you enjoyed this mystery! Next month we’ll be transporting you from the upper class golf estates of England to the winding streets of a Taiwanese oceanside mountain town. Look out for Day 1 of The Pearl of Taiwan in early February!