Alex Harris 00 - Poisoned

She comes several mornings a week and is gone by six. I couldn’t stand to have someone in my house. Especially a stranger.”
    The cool breeze generated by the hankie fanning May continued gave me goose bumps. I turned toward June. “And you, Mrs. Doliveck, did you go directly home?”
    “Not that it’s any of your business, young woman, but yes, I did. And I, too, live alone. I agree with my sister about the help living in. It’s just not proper! You can see for yourself what can happen!”
    “Are you blaming Mrs. Platz for Bradley’s death?” I asked incredulously, even though I planned on interrogating the woman the first chance I got.
    “Maybe the poison was meant for Roberta,” J.T. said as he came back into the room holding a wet washcloth. He smiled his crooked grin. What he thought amusing I didn’t know.
    The consensus was in. They all agreed Mrs. Brissart was the one intended to die. But something didn’t sit well with me on that front.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

    With Chantal due to return tomorrow, I needed to do something before I went to see Mrs. Platz. Going into the study I sat at the computer and scanned several documents until I found the one I wanted. “Ah,” I said smiling. “ Study history, study history. In history lie all the secrets of statecraft .” I hoped Winston’s words also applied to family. Sending the document to the printer, I sat back and sighed. If John thought the answer to Mrs. Brissart’s supposed guilt was somewhere in the pages of the family history, then I needed to read through it again. Gathering all the printed pages into a folder, I tucked them into my purse and went to the kitchen.
    “Alex. I’m sorry. I never did get that cup of tea for you, did I?”
    “Not to worry, Mrs. Platz, I can get it.” I took the kettle to the sink and filled it with water, but first I took a quick peek inside, and finding nothing, filled it half way. “I can understand why Mrs. Brissart has a difficult time with her sisters.”
    “Most disagreeable, those two.”
    “Have they ever gotten along?” I asked, as I leaned against the long counter.
    “Not as long as I’ve been around.”
    “Does she have more problems with one sister than the other or are they both equally annoying to her?” I asked, wondering if Mrs. Platz knew about Charles.
    “Now that you mention it, I would say Roberta and June seem to have more animosity between them. Roberta thinks May is a pain. Period.”
    “Any particular reason why she and June don’t get along as well as she and May?”
    “She doesn’t get along with either one of them. Things are more strained with June. I don’t know why. Just personalities, I suppose.”
    So Mrs. Platz didn’t know of the feud between the sisters over a long-lost love. Which seemed odd. Mrs. Platz and Mrs. Brissart spent almost every evening playing cards. Surely they talked of such things over the years. Of course, Mrs. Platz may well know the whole story and didn’t want to share the information with me.
    “How long have you worked here, Mrs. Platz? I asked, while pouring the water into a freshly washed cup.
    “Many years. More than I can remember.” Mrs. Platz heaved a huge sigh.
    “Have they been happy years?” I asked totally aware my question sounded odd.
    Mrs. Platz straightened up from bending under the counter. “I can’t seem to find our blender. Getting back to your question, yes, they have. I wouldn’t stay if I didn’t like it here,” she answered indignantly. “Why do you ask?”
    I tried hard to keep the excitement out of my words. “No reason. Just that it must be difficult working so closely with someone every day. I work with my sister and while I love her dearly, it can be trying at times. When was the last time you saw the blender?”
    Mrs. Platz waved her hand. “That old thing. Who knows? I just thought it’d be nice to have a berry shake. And it’s not trying to work with Roberta,” Mrs. Platz said flatly. “She’s been like family to me. I couldn’t have asked for a better employer. Or friend,” she added.
    I took a sip of my tea using this as an excuse to regroup my thoughts. It certainly didn’t sound like Mrs. Platz had any hidden vendetta against her employer. And, I thought with a sudden letdown, this must be the reason the police weren’t focusing any attention on the woman. If I couldn’t collar Mrs. Platz as a murderer and declare myself a hero, then the least I could do was to offer the woman some