Robin Cottage, the home of Mildred Parsons, was a pleasant house, somewhat bigger than the “cottage” part suggested. The late Mr. Parsons was a successful accountant, Mrs. Lundy explained, and had recently come into a small inheritance.
“The money angle seems strong,” said Miss Mallowby, as they knocked and waited. “Lending credence to my theory that Mrs. Parsons poisoned her husband.”
Mrs. Lundy tutted.
“A woman bakes a cake tasty enough to tempt even a husband who never liked sweets, and the world wants to frame her for murder,” she grumbled.
“The cake did contain rat poison,” pointed out Edith. “Though my suspicions are still with Vera.”
“No no,” said Mrs. Lundy, “I tell you, it’s that Peter fellow Vera’s engaged to. A young cad if ever there was—”
She broke off as the door was opened by a pretty girl in a maid’s uniform.
“Good afternoon,” said Miss Mallowby in her sternest manner. “We’d like to speak to Mrs. Parsons on a matter of some urgency.”
The girl, frightened before so much legal authority, ushered them straight into the parlour where Mrs. Parsons sat with her knitting. When they explained their mission, the widow looked hopeful.
“Can you really find the truth?”
“We will do everything we can,” Edith promised.
Mrs. Parsons’ account was much the same as Mrs. Lundy’s. She and Vera had been in the kitchen with Lucy the maid, and Peter had come to chop some vegetables. Only Mr. Parsons had stayed in the parlour.
“Was it normal for Peter to help in the kitchen?” asked Miss Mallowby.
“Oh yes. He was often doing odd jobs around the house, joking that he was earning his keep. Always so kind and helpful.”
Mrs. Parsons smiled fondly, and Edith knew this did not escape her friend’s notice.
“And Peter is engaged to your daughter?”
The widow frowned.
“Certainly not. Vera is too young…. Anyway, perhaps you should talk to Peter about that. He stayed on with us after the tragedy. Very kind of him, to put off his studies for us.” She glared at Miss Mallowby.
“Quite,” Edith interceded. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Parsons. We’ll have a chat with Peter and Vera now.”
“By the way,” asked Miss Mallowby, as they left. “What is Peter studying?”
“Chemistry,” answered Mrs. Parsons proudly.
Mrs. Lundy could hardly contain herself until they were out of earshot.
“You see,” she whispered. “Chemistry! The most suspicious of subjects.”
“But the poison came from a tin in the kitchen,” Edith reminded her. “You wouldn’t need special knowledge to use it.”
“Either way, Miss Mallowby, there was no cause to attack Mildred like that. With all those…”
“Perfectly ordinary questions?” smiled Miss Mallowby. “I’m sorry, but it’s clear the lady is sweet on this Peter. Instead of bickering in the hallway, let’s go talk to him.”
They found Peter smoking in the garden.
“To what do I owe the company of three such charming ladies?” he asked, smiling and shaking hands. Edith could see Miss Mallowby’s point. Peter was tall, handsome, and had oodles of charm. But there was something well-practiced about his engaging manner.
Mrs. Lundy took the lead with her favourite suspect.
“We’re trying to clear up the mystery of poor Mr. Parsons’ death,” she explained.
“Ah, lady detectives! I always say women are much more insightful on such matters than us men.”
Mrs. Lundy simpered, but at a stern glare from Miss Mallowby she pulled herself together.
“Did you spend much time in the kitchen that night, Mr. Wysell?”
“Only a few minutes, I think. I chopped some vegetables for Lucy, looked in on Vera’s cake, and went back to the parlour to read the paper.”
“I believe you are engaged to Miss Parsons?”
“Not formally. Parents not too keen, I’m afraid. But Vera and I are in love and we mean to marry. Guess that puts me at the top of the suspect list, eh?”
“Why did you call it Vera’s cake?” asked Edith. “I thought it was her mother’s recipe.”
“Oh…” Peter looked vague. “Vera was very excited about this cake. Said there was something special about it. But then, she always was the cake lover in the family. How she stays so thin, I don’t know.”
“Probably the stress of being engaged to such a snake,” muttered Mrs. Lundy once they had gone back inside.
“You have to admit it’s suspicious,” said Edith. “The special thing about this cake was that it killed someone!”
“But would Vera broadcast this knowledge?” asked Miss Mallowby doubtfully.
Once again, there was one way to find out. Miss Mallowby poked her head in the kitchen, and judging by the clatter of pots startled the poor maid again. After a moment she reported that Vera was in her room.
“Miss Parsons, may we have a word?”
Edith led the charge this time, knocking on Vera’s door. The girl who opened it was remarkably pretty, even in her sombre black gown.
“Certainly.” She ushered them in. “This is about my father’s death, isn’t it?”
Edith nodded.
“We just want to help your mother find out the truth. Tell me, why did you say the cake was special?”
To her surprise, Vera laughed.
“Oh, that! I’m sure you suspect me, Miss Langford, but actually it’s very simple. You know how my father never ate sweets?”
The women nodded.
“Well the truth is, he wasn’t being peculiar. His doctor wouldn’t allow it. You see, my father had diabetes.”
“Diabetes!” Mrs. Lundy exclaimed. “But the cake?”
“Mother and I had read about this new sugar substitute, saccharin. We ordered some and were so excited to finally make a cake he could try…” Vera’s eyes filled with tears.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Parsons.” Mrs. Lundy patted her hand whilst simultaneously glaring at Edith. “We won’t trouble you anymore.”
“So the whole mysterious cake business had a perfectly reasonable explanation,” concluded Miss Mallowby, once they were back in the hall. “And the two women were only trying to help. Does that mean Peter is our man?”
“I’ve heard of saccharin,” said Edith. “It’s slightly bitter, which would disguise the poison perfectly. And Peter, being a chemist, would know that.”
“But he was in the kitchen for the shortest time, when it was filled with people. He couldn’t have done it.”
“Then we’re back to square one,” sighed Mrs. Lundy. “We don’t really have any clues.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” replied Edith. She was considering everything they’d seen and heard that day, and for the first time she saw a glimmer of light.
She motioned for them to follow, and to her friends’ surprise led them into the kitchen.
The dish Lucy was drying slipped out of her hands with a crash when she saw her visitors.
“Lucy,” said Edith gently. “You’ve been nervous all day, especially when Miss Mallowby tried to talk to you. Is there something you’d like to tell us?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, miss,” Lucy muttered. Edith knelt and helped her pick up the pieces.
“I already know,” she said quietly. “You were the only person who didn’t know that the cake was all right for diabetics to eat. You didn’t mean for him to die, did you?”
The maid buried her face in her apron and sobbed.
“Cake was her favourite! It should’ve been her, not poor Mr. Parsons!”
“You mean Vera?”
“Yes!”
Mrs. Lundy and Miss Mallowby stared.
“But… why…” Mrs. Lundy spluttered.
“I told you,” said Edith. “Thwarted love is a feeling that runs deep.”
“Peter loves me!” Lucy glared at them defiantly. “Just ask him!”
“Ah,” sighed Mrs. Lundy. “Charming Peter always helping in the kitchen… You poor girl…”
“Ridiculous,” muttered Miss Mallowby. “How could she not know they were making a special cake?”
“You’re right!” exclaimed Edith. She took Lucy by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Answer me one question, and it may save you from the worst. What is saccharin?”
Lucy gaped at her.
“It makes things sweet…” she mumbled. “Like ‘saccharine’ means sweet. I looked it up in the dictionary and everything. It’s like a super-sugar.”
Edith looked at her friends triumphantly.
“We can guess who told Lucy that lie. Who had the chemical knowledge, and who led her to believe that saccharin was the opposite of safe for Mr. Parsons.”
“You’re not saying Peter lied to me?” cried Lucy.
“I’m afraid so. It was the way for him to commit murder without actually being there to do it. He had the perfect alibi, not staying in the kitchen for more than a few minutes in plain view.”
“And with Mr. Parsons gone—” said Mrs. Lundy.
“He’d be free to marry Vera and her inheritance,” finished Miss Mallowby. “Quick! We must phone the police.”
“Well!” said Mrs. Lundy, when they were once again drinking tea in her cottage. “I may never eat cake again.”
“We saved Mrs. Parsons from the misery of suspicion,” pointed out Edith. “And Vera from that awful man.”
“And I have a barrister friend who will do what he can for Lucy,” added Miss Mallowby.
This seemed to cheer up Mrs. Lundy.
“Overall, not a bad day of sleuthing!” she said, reaching for the cake tin. “Perhaps just a small slice, then…”
Daria Writes 