Murder in the Mansion Read online

  As night began to settle over them, women pulled shawls around bare shoulders and patio lights flickered on to brighten the garden. The pool glittered under the lamplight, rippling against the cool breeze. Some guests sat barefoot with their feet in the water, lost in idle conversation. Others lounged on patio furniture or stood in small groups along the stone patio and lawn.

  Cued by the lamplight, caterers and servers switched platters for desserts. Champagne was returned to the kitchen and hot beverages were passed around. Guests sat nibbling on strawberries, cheesecake, and apple pie. The toasts which had continued throughout the evening began to wind down. Everyone but Vivien had praised, reminisced, and advised him on what was to come next in his life.

  She stood now on the back terrace, with the house lit up behind her, the windows appearing to glow in the darkness. The house stood in an elegant disarray, a back-split sprawling this way and that, as if it wasn’t sure what it was trying to be. William had loved it from the moment he’d set eyes on it. Looking at Vivien he knew he felt the same way about her.

  “If I could have your attention for a moment,” her voice rang out over the monotonous chatter. “You’ve all had your chance to tell William how wonderful he is this evening. How much he’s done for you as an employer, how rewarding it has been to do business with him, or how it was never solely about business, but friendship,” she looked out at the crowd, met Sam’s eyes for one moment. “Sam spoke earlier about friendship being at the core of one of the most successful law firms in Toronto. If we look around this evening it is obvious that William has made a lot of friends in his sixty years.”

  She sipped from her champagne and lingered over it. William watched and waited, unsure if she meant to clear her mind or wanted the dramatic effect.

  “William has also managed,” she continued, “through distance, through building a business and making a family, to hold on to his roots. Marius has come a long way this evening to celebrate with us and I know he would have traveled further.” She raised her glass in his direction. “Thank you for always being just a phone call away.”

  She took another sip and waited for the clapping to dissipate before speaking. “Of course I extend the same thank you to my own family. William and I have been married for thirty four years and when we took those vows our families merged. Our friends also merged. His career, his interests, his ambitions, have also in some shape or form affected the life we have together. My sister Pamela has kept me grounded for all of these years. The support we have been given by all of you at one time or another in our lives has strengthened us individually. It has also enabled us to have a fulfilling marriage and life together. I am grateful to all of you for that and thank all of you for being here tonight to celebrate this momentous occasion.

  “Thirty four years ago I made a decision that affected the entire course of my life. Had I not married William my life would have been remarkably different. I think about it sometimes, as I’m sure we all do, and consider what could have been. We have had our ups and downs. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve done things that if I had the choice I would go back and change,” her voice grew louder, clearer, as she stared defiantly into the crowd.

  “But if I had to do it over again I would still marry William exactly the way I did thirty four years ago. I would still have six beautiful children with him, even if they can’t all be with us tonight. And Dani,” her voice wavered for just an instant, “Dani, I believe in my heart, would be here with us right now if she could. I married a successful and truly wonderful man who makes me feel intelligent and beautiful to this day. Wouldn’t it be nice if all women could say that after thirty four years? So if you would all raise your glasses, or coffee, whichever you have on you. Here’s to William as he embarks on a new era in his life. May we have another sixty years with you!”

  The crowd clapped and cheered.

  “Another sixty years,” William raised his glass in her direction. “Would make me a little too old. Why don’t we aim for a hundred and call it a day?” Vivien laughed. It was a long-standing joke between the two of them. William always told Vivien that when they were eighty, or ninety, or one-hundred-and-two, whichever age pleased him that day, that they would do this or that, as time was forever getting away from them. Vivien would roll her eyes and scoff that she didn’t want to go to Venice in a wheelchair, and William would chuckle, pleased that she’d risen to his bait. Many of the people there that night were accustomed to this banter between the two of them.

  She’d mentioned Dani, William thought with a start. It had happened so quickly and been so brief that it had been only a short stab in his heart. Still, Vivien hadn’t said any of their children’s names, except for Nadia of course, in years. It was unlike her to speak so candidly or to show such a real display of emotion. She was a brilliant hostess because she was unfailingly gracious and stoic. She showed only what she wanted others to see and she said only what she wanted others to hear. Vivien had an innate talent for immediately assessing a situation and deliberately expressing what she knew the other person wanted her to. She had been a huge asset to William and his business over the years. Her speech had been unusual. Immediately William wondered why she had said it.

  He wanted to go to her, to pull her aside and ask her why she’d done it, but she was standing amongst a group of people. He took one step in her direction anyway and saw Nadia.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Just inside for a few minutes,” she told him. “I want something cold to drink. Maybe a few minutes of peace.”

  William nodded absently. “There’s a lot of people here. I’m glad you’re here, too.”

  “Of course I’m here,” she told him. “Where else would I be?”

  “Anywhere that wasn’t here.”

  She stared at him. “They didn’t call. None of them called.”

  “No. But I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “There’s a lot of water under the bridge, now.”

  “I know.”

  “Not just between you and each of them.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s been five years today Dad, since Dani,” Nadia let out a deep breath.

  “I know what day it is.”

  It was the second time in one night that his dead daughter had been tossed at him. She was a memory he wanted to let go and, if it were possible, even forget. But he knew it wasn’t possible. He could never truly forget his children and their absence, chosen or otherwise, never failed to anger and upset him.

  He said goodbye to Nadia and told her she could leave the party before he looked for his wife. After a few minutes he saw her speaking to her sister and didn’t want to interrupt. Feeling tired and a bit weary, he made his way across the crowded garden and into the kitchen.

  Caterers were busy cleaning up and putting extra food in the fridge. He poured himself another glass of champagne, not ready to switch to coffee, and spent some time talking with the caterers, complimenting them on their food. He was interested in the ingredients they’d used, so much so that he lost track of time. Not ready to go back to the party, he wandered through the house. He wanted a few minutes to himself, to reflect on what everyone had told him, to enjoy the fact that they were here, celebrating with him, before the moment passed and it was over.

  That was when he heard the murmur of voices behind the wooden door to the study, a man’s and a woman’s. He continued to walk, thinking nothing of it, but the high pitched whisper made him pause.

  “I hate you!”

  He moved closer to the door, curious of what was going on. All of his guests should be outside finishing dessert. Who had needed to come in here?

  “I don’t care!” The voice was slightly more shrill. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  Another voice murmured, confidently. There was the sound of footsteps on the worn wooden floor. Then the whispered voice again, “Good! I wish you’d died a long time ago!”

  There was the sound of a crack. Not very loud, b
ut enough that William jerked against the door. He could hear muffled sobbing. “Why don’t you go back to hell where you came from. No! Stay away from me! I will never let you near me again! I never should have let you near me in the first place!” Her voice had grown louder and louder. William took a long sip to calm his pounding heart. “I never loved you! Sex isn’t love.”

  He stood frozen for one moment, realizing one of the voices belonged to his wife. Then he pushed the door open and heaved the champagne glass across the room. The glass shattered against the wall. Assessing the scene unfolding before him William stepped back as if he’d been struck. As if sealing his fate, he slammed the door shut behind him.

  ****

  Before going into the study, Vivien had seen William glance her way across the patio and knew he wanted to talk to her. After more than three decades with her husband, she thought she knew every look and gesture. She wanted a few minutes to herself before she spoke to him. She wanted a few minutes away from all of the people who crowded her, from the noise, from all of it. She spent a few moments speaking with her sister, thinking she’d sneak inside afterward, and then turned when Nadia spoke from behind her.

  “Great speech, Mom.”

  “Thanks,” Vivien was surprised when Nadia hugged her. She put her arms around her, knowing how many people were watching, and tried not to be bothered by the public display of affection. She and Nadia had never had that kind of relationship.

  “Dad says I’m free to go. I won’t be late.”

  “Okay,” Vivian studied her. “I don’t have to tell you to be careful.”

  “No,” Nadia agreed. “I haven’t had much to drink.”

  “Then I’ll see you later,” Vivien replied. Her eyes passed over her husband across the patio. He looked distracted but was heading into the house. This was her moment to get away from everyone, and she didn’t give Nadia a backward glance as she made her way briskly toward the house.

  It was only the speech that had rattled her nerves, she told herself as she moved quickly through the kitchen. She’d put a lot of thought into what she would say and how she would say it and thought she had pulled it off well. About a dozen guests had rushed onto the terrace after she’d finished to congratulate her, to tell her how meaningful it had been, and to thank her for being so gracious. Pamela had even had her husband film the whole thing and would send her a copy later.

  In the powder room off the foyer she seemed miles away from the constant chatter. She wasn’t required to smile or make small talk or throw out compliments, deserved or otherwise. She stared warily at herself in the mirror. Her dark hair was perfectly styled, her make up unsmeared, even after so many hours of socializing in the June heat. Her white sundress was fashionable but not overdone. Her silver sandals were feminine but surprisingly comfortable. Vivien had learned every trick of the trade. She felt she had mastered all of the versions of herself she was required to portray. In her marriage to William, she had excelled as a hostess. She had passed, narrowly, as a wife. She had failed completely as a mother.

  Maybe if she hadn’t been so busy looking the part and trying to be perfect, she thought. She knew she had been an asset to William’s career but essentially his career had ruined their marriage and that had destroyed their children. It was like a pyramid. Their lives had been ruined from the top down and the important things that upheld the entire structure, were struggling at the bottom to keep the whole thing from falling down.

  She slipped discreetly out of the powder room and down the long hallway. She loved her house. She had made it her own. She had overseen the building of additions and decorating, occupying herself on the many occasions when William was away. She had improved the house as a means of consoling herself during the times she had learned his trips were not all business and he had been visiting women in each city. The house had kept her loneliness and insecurities at bay in the early stages of their marriage. It was only when it was no longer enough that she had begun to look elsewhere for revenge and reassurance.

  She paused at the base of the grand staircase as it wound its way to the second floor. Sometimes if she was a little drunk and mentally drained, like she was then, she could squint into the darkness and see her life the way it used to be. She could see her children as they grew, she could see events as they had happened. But sometimes she didn’t want to see. Sometimes it was best to leave it alone, lock it away, not relive it a thousand times as she had already done. Imagining them would not bring them back. It was the champagne that brought them to the front of her consciousness. It was always the alcohol that made it seem like it had happened yesterday.

  The doors to the study were open and she wandered inside. The faded rugs stretched across a worn, wide-planked wooden floor. Bookshelves lined the walls as high as the ceiling and were stuffed with books. William had always loved to read, for business or pleasure, and he had collected volumes whenever he traveled. On the wall opposite the entrance two French doors led out onto a stone patio to the side of the house. As the party was around the back, in the garden, Vivien could scarcely hear them.

  She slid into one of the leather armchairs that faced the trees through the glass doors. William’s mahogany desk cast shadows on the floor in front of her. She knew she would have to return to the party in a few minutes. It was ungracious of her to disappear for too long. But she closed her eyes, just for now, and enjoyed the peace. For just a moment she let herself enjoy the quiet.

  When she had been young and newly married she had jumped at any opportunity to help William. So blinded by her love for him, she had wanted to do anything that she could to ensure his success. It was as if the more she contributed, the more he would appreciate her, thereby ensuring their happiness. Love and marriage, career and money were all entangled together. Later, even after she’d discovered his affairs, she had continued to help him, to make herself an asset to him.

  Their marriage, her life, had not been what she had thought it would be. Vivien supposed no ones ever was and those who claimed otherwise were lying, to her or to themselves. People rarely showed you who they really were. People were image-conscious. They could justify the worst of situations. Vivien was no different. She had truly loved William and used the same justifications.

  Her marriage had been far from perfect, but she still loved him. Everything she had said in her speech was the truth. She had made one fatal error in her life and that had been the turning point. That had begun the downward spiral. No amount of money or penance could fix that. No amount of regret or remorse would change any of it now.

  She opened her eyes at the sound behind her but didn’t turn around. The feeling of dread that washed over her was indication enough. The shadow changed on the floor as he came into the room and snapped the light on. The room was filled with harsh, artificial light.

  She ignored the man partly for pride and partly because she despised him. She would not rush to acknowledge his presence and often went out of her way to avoid acknowledging him at all. Avoidance had gotten her through the last two decades of her marriage when she’d been forced to deal with him. Staring forward, careful not to move her head, she gazed out the French doors. Minutes passed and still he stood there waiting to be acknowledged.

  “What?” Her voice was quiet and uninterested.

  “I need to talk to you,” he replied. He had always been arrogant and self-assured. It showed now.

  “So talk,” Vivien answered calmly. “I’ve never been able to stop you from doing anything you wanted to do, whether you had my blessing or not.”

  “It’s beneath you to bring up the past at a time like this.”

  “It was beneath me to allow the past to happen at all,” Vivien rose from her seat.

  “That’s neither here nor there,” he told her. They stared at each other.

  “Close the door then and be quick,” Vivien replied.

  “I was hoping you’d suggest that,” he said and shut the door.

  ****

  N
adia stayed at the party to hear her mother’s speech and once it ended had felt she had done her duty. She slipped past her father on her way to the house and he reached out to snag her hand.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Just inside for a few minutes,” she lied. “I want something cold to drink. Maybe a few minutes of peace.”

  William nodded absently. “There’s a lot of people here. I’m glad you’re here, too.”

  “Of course I’m here,” she told him. “Where else would I be?”

  “Anywhere that wasn’t here.”

  She thought she understood. “They didn’t call. None of them called.”

  “No. But I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  But you are, Nadia thought. Hurt, too. “There’s a lot of water under the bridge, now.”

  “I know.”

  “Not just between you and each of them.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s been five years today, Dad, since Dani,” Nadia let out a deep breath.

  “I know what day it is.”

  “I only mean that her death further complicates an already bad situation.”

  William stared at her. “When did you get to be so smart?”

  Nadia smiled, pleased that he wasn’t upset by her frankness. “I don’t know.”

  “If you ever want to go into law, you let me know,” William brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “You have an ability to cut through the bullshit.”

  “You taught me that.”

  “And you look beautiful tonight, my dear. You look more like your mother every day.”

  “I know,” Nadia told him. “I got Mom’s looks and your brains.”

  “Something like that.”

  “And I had help,” Nadia glanced around. “Aunt Pamela has always been around to play big sister. Sam and Paul have been honorary uncles.”

  “I guess so,” William said softly. “Since your own family has been so far away.”

  “Even when they were here they were far away,” Nadia heard the bitterness in her voice and struggled to move beyond it. “Sam tutored me. Paul taught me to drive.”