Murder on Fifth Avenue

“At supper.” The same answer the others had given.

“Did he seem ill or complain about not feeling well?”

“No, in fact …”

Frank’s weariness evaporated. “In fact what?”

Plainly, Winston had been taught not to speak ill of the dead, so he hesitated diplomatically before saying, “He seemed rather jolly.”

“Jolly?” No one else had mentioned this.

“Well, cheerful at least.”

“Do you know why?”

Winston shifted uneasily in his chair. “He said…He said Mr. Paul had asked to see him.”

“Why would that make him happy?”

“I don’t know. See, we’ve all been talking, ever since Mr. Devries died. The servants, I mean. We’ve been wondering how long they’d keep Roderick, what with Mr. Devries being dead and not needing a valet anymore. We thought maybe they’d keep him until after the funeral, in case they needed him to choose his clothes or something, but Roderick thought different.”

“What did he think?”

“I’m not sure, but he didn’t think Mr. Paul was going to let him go.”

“What did he say to you?”

Winston shifted again. “He said…Well, not in so many words, but he thought Mr. Paul was going to take him on and let me go.”

“Exactly what did he tell you?”

Winston sighed. “He said, Winston, old sport, we’ll be sorry to see you go.”

“He said this before he met with Paul Devries?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you say?”

“What could I say? I know Mr. Paul has been very happy with my service, but I didn’t know. Maybe Mr. Paul thought he should keep Roderick because he’d served his father or something. I was nervous, I can tell you.”

“What did he say afterwards?”

“Nothing. I mean, I didn’t see him again. I waited down in the kitchen for a while. I thought he would come and tell me I was out—he would’ve liked lording it over me—but he didn’t. He just went right up to his room. That made me think Mr. Paul told him some bad news. Next thing I knew, I heard you yelling for somebody to call a doctor.”

“Did you see the decanter we found in Roderick’s room?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know where it came from?”

“Mr. Devries had one like it in his room. I’ve seen it there. He likes his walnuts and his whiskey.”

“Would Roderick have taken the decanter on his own? Without permission?”

“I couldn’t say for sure, but I’d have to say no. Mrs. Devries, she’d be real hard on anybody who stole something.”

“But if Paul Devries had just told him they were letting him go, maybe he didn’t care.”

“Oh, he’d need a reference from the family if he wanted to get another job. He wouldn’t dare do anything to make them mad, even if they’d just turned him out.”

“Winston, do you know what Paul and his father argued about the day Mr. Devries died?”

To Frank’s surprise, the color drained from Winston’s face. “Uh, no, I don’t. Mr. Devries, he was always finding fault with Mr. Paul. It could’ve been anything at all.”

“Roderick said they argued because Mr. Devries had been cruel to Garnet Devries.”

He blinked. “Did he? Well, then, that must be it.”

“What did Mr. Devries do that was cruel?”

He had to think about this for a moment. “He was always saying hurtful things to people. Yes, that’s probably what it was. He’d said something to her and hurt her feelings.”

Winston was a terrible liar, Frank noted. “Did he hurt Mr. Paul’s feelings, too?”

Winston’s expression hardened. “He’d say terrible things to him.”

“What kind of things?”

“Accuse him of not being a real man. Of being soft and weak.”

“Did he ever talk about Mr. Paul’s friend, Hugh Zeller?”

Winston blanched at that, silently confessing that he knew about Paul’s secret. “He…he didn’t approve of Mr. Paul’s friendship with Mr. Zeller.”

“How does Mr. Paul get along with his wife?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do they argue a lot?”

“Oh, no! They’re right fond of each other. That’s why Mr. Paul was so mad about his father not treating her well.”

Which confirmed one of Frank’s suspicions. “Did Mr. Paul think his father took an improper interest in his wife?”

Winston’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

“I couldn’t say. I won’t say nothing about Mrs. Paul. You’ll have to ask somebody else.”

Which confirmed Frank’s other suspicion.

“Take me up to Mr. Devries’s bedroom.”

“Whatever for?”

“I need to see where the decanter came from.”

Winston obviously didn’t like this, but he’d been instructed to assist Frank in his investigation, so he led the way up the back stairs to the third floor, where the family’s bedrooms were located. Before opening the door from the stairway into the hall, he turned to Frank.

“Try not to make any noise. You don’t want to disturb Mrs. Devries.”

He was right about that, Frank thought, following him down to the proper room. Winston closed the door behind them and leaned his back against it, silently telling Frank he was going to observe his every move. Frank remembered seeing a decanter on the table in the sitting area in front of the fireplace, and sure enough, the tray on which it had sat was still there, along with the matching glasses, but the decanter itself was gone.

“That’s where the old man kept his whiskey, isn’t it?” he asked Winston, nodding to the table.

“I believe so, yes.”

“The last time I was here, I saw the decanter sitting on the tray, but it was empty.”

“That’s impossible. Roderick always kept it full for Mr. Devries.”

“It was definitely empty when I saw it.”

Winston frowned. “When was this?”

“A day or two after Devries died, I think.”

Winston nodded. “Roderick had probably drunk it by then.”

“Was he in the habit of doing that?”

“Not when Mr. Devries was alive, I don’t think, but with him gone…I mean, who would know? Nobody comes in here but him now.”

“Where is Mrs. Devries bedroom?”

Winston nodded to his left.

Frank pointed to the door on that wall. “Do the rooms connect?”

Winston smirked. “Sure, but there hasn’t been a connection in a long time, if you know what I mean.”

Frank returned his grin. “I suppose it’s locked on her side.”

“That’s right.”

Frank looked around again, and this time he noticed something he hadn’t before. He walked back over to the table where the decanter had sat. If Roderick had sampled the whiskey, he hadn’t touched the walnuts. The bowl