Alex Harris 00 - Poisoned

days.”
    “Uh-huh,” I managed to squeak out thanking whichever saint reigned over homes that flocked wallpaper was no longer available. Ditto for the gold-veined mirrors.
    June Doliveck took a seat across from me and placed one of the magenta pillows firmly on her lap, contrasting horribly with the muted rose of her silk dress. The woman, from all outward appearances, could not be any more opposite with the room if she tried. Perhaps her foray into the world of interior design indicated the onset of some horrible disease, a tumor maybe, pressing against the optic nerve and forcing her to become color blind.
    “You wanted to ask some questions?”
    “Ah, yes. I did.
    “Well, then?”
    “Did you know Bradley was working on the family history?”
    “Yes, I believe someone mentioned it in passing. Roberta perhaps, or maybe Bradley.”
    “Did this disturb you in any way?”
    “Disturb me? Why would Bradley’s inquisitiveness into our illustrious family disturb me?” June adjusted a large ring on her left hand and looked up. “Really, Miss Harris, you’re going to have to do better than this if you expect to catch yourself a killer.” She eyed me and pressed her lips together into an unattractive thin line of red.
    “Do you know anything about your background?”
    “Of course. My father told us stories all the time about how our wonderful forefather, Lucien Cournet, came to America and started the family fortune. We’ve all heard it, Miss Harris, dozens of times,” Mrs. Doliveck said sounding bored.
    “Can you tell me why you want the house and surrounding land in Farmington sold?”
    June clasped her hands together and sat up straighter. “Well, why not? No one ever uses it anymore, and we have a wonderful opportunity to make a killing on the deal.”
    I winced at the word “killing,” but June seemed oblivious to her blunder. “How so?”
    June’s face reddened. “It’s just that the land is in a prime location. It should fetch quite a tidy little sum.”
    June continued with her barrage, probably much the same that she used on her sister, while I let my mind and my eyes wander to the vicinity of the back yard. It held none of the tranquil ambiance of the winding paths and lush vegetation that defined Mrs. Brissart’s garden. A peek down the hall showed a wall covered with very old and discolored wallpaper. And no one had offered me any refreshment. No maid or housekeeper came to welcome me. Given June’s penchant for putting on airs, I thought it quite rude not to be offered something as little as a glass of water. I heard no other human sounds coming from the house, no voices and no clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen by a harried housekeeper. The only sound, though unfortunately not loud enough to drown out June’s ramblings, was that of a furnace somewhere in the bowels of the old house clicking on. I gave an involuntary shiver thinking that no amount of heat could warm up this appalling room.
    “So, it’s like I said,” June’s voice droned on, “Roberta is just being obstinate. She’s always been that way, I dare say, from the time we were children. Of course, our father encouraged her to be independent in every way, not seeing the monster he created. Now, my twin sister and I chose to follow the path of our mother. A charming woman who believed that one’s family background meant everything. Good breeding and acceptance in society, the right society, mind you, are of the utmost importance.” June patted her gray hair, today devoid of the purple hue of yesterday and now doing a good job of picking up the hot pink off the pillow she still held.
    “Miss Harris, I assure you that our mother would be most distressed at the commotion Roberta is causing the entire family. My sister has absolutely no reason to withhold her signature from the papers that would allow us to sell the land.” June took a deep breath. “ Except , for the perverse pleasure she derives in tormenting me.”
    “Why would she want to do that?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation to the feud over Charles.
    “Because she takes great pleasure in making me miserable.”
    “Would this have anything to do with Charles?” I asked innocently, and seeing June’s reaction, realized that yes, it was quite capable for this woman to kill over a long lost love.
    “Where did you hear that?” June demanded. “Did my sister entertain you with tales of how she ruined my life?”
    “No. I heard it