Alex Harris 00 - Poisoned

he asked in a surprised tone, his eyes boring into mine.
    “I’m working here this week while Chantal is away. I told you.” I said this last bit in a soft whisper out of the corner of my mouth.
    John, six-foot two, with dark brown hair and gray eyes that changed color depending on what he wore, ran a hand over his strong chin. “I didn’t realize you worked for the agency,” he said to Chantal. “Would you come with me, please?”
    Chantal got up and followed him into the hall. He turned and looked at me. “You, too.”
    I turned to Mrs. Brissart who sat alone on the sofa. “Are you going to be okay?”
    “Yes, yes, I’ll be fine. Go with Chantal.”
    We followed John into the dining room where another man, presumably Detective Maroni, sat. The young man looked serious. He wore a thick pair of glasses covering his brown eyes and his skin was clean-shaven and soft looking with just a hint of a leftover tan. Under his tweed blazer, he wore a blue oxford cloth shirt and a dark blue tie. His strawberry-blond hair was cut short and blow dried. With a name like Maroni, I expected him to be dark-haired and olive-skinned. Maybe his family came from northern Italy. By way of Ireland.
    “Have a seat, Mrs. Bradbury. I’d like to ask you some general questions first and then we’ll get down to the events of yesterday.”
    John asked Chantal to state her name and address. “Are you married?”
    “Yes.”
    “Any children?”
    “No.”
    “How long have you worked for Mrs. Brissart?”
    “Since last November. I’ve worked for Always Prepared for some time, and last year this position became available and Alex sent me over here for an interview. We hit it off, Mrs. Brissart, I mean, right away, and I’ve been here ever since.”
    “How often do you come in?”
    “Every morning. I work from nine until usually about three depending on how much Mrs. Brissart has for me to do.”
    “Is there a lot to do?” John asked the question with skepticism in his voice.
    “Oh, yes. Mrs. Brissart is active on several committees throughout town. And she’s on a selection committee at one of the museums in New York. I also do a lot of her personal correspondence. Her eyes aren’t as good as they used to be. She prefers to write her letters but her arthritis bothers her a bit so I type everything.”
    Chantal answered all the questions with a voice full of nervousness. Chantal Bradbury had come to Always Prepared a few years ago when she and her husband moved to the area. They had lived in New York but tired of city living. Her husband still commuted by train every morning, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Chantal’s fluency in French had been a big asset on many occasions.
    “And,” Chantal continued, “I started doing some work for Bradley and his family history project.”
    At the mention of Bradley, Chantal became upset. Somewhere in the house I could hear voices. Many voices. I patted Chantal’s hand and smiled, and John continued.
    “Now let’s talk about yesterday. What time did you arrive?”
    “My usual time, nine o’clock.”
    “And what did you do all day?”
    Chantal shifted in her seat. “Well, let’s see. First I made several phone calls for Mrs. Brissart and then Alex arrived. She’s taking over things while I’m away for a few days so I spent the rest of the morning showing her how Mrs. Brissart likes things done. We had several letters to draft. Mrs. Brissart is on the finance committee for the abuse center and is helping to develop some fund raising schemes. Then in the afternoon Bradley came by with the family history.”
    “Who came by the house during the course of the day?”
    Detective Maroni rapidly took down notes and I thought if he ever tired of police work I could certainly find him plenty of temp jobs.
    “Well, let’s see,” Chantal continued. “Mrs. Brissart, Mrs. Platz, Bradley, and Mrs. Brissart’s two sisters.”
    “That would be May Estenfelder and June Doliveck.” John looked up at Chantal for confirmation.
    “Yes. That’s correct. They arrived in the morning and were suppose to come back in the afternoon.
    “Yes, that’s right. They did come back. Just as I headed out,” I volunteered. At John’s annoyed look I explained. “Chantal left shortly after Bradley arrived and I finished up the history for him.”
    “Just Mrs. Estenfelder and Mrs. Doliveck?”
    “No. Quite a few others arrived but I didn’t know any of them. I did notice three other women and