A Poisoned Inheritance

As the grandfather clock struck midnight, the weight of the brass key hung heavy in my hand. I turned to Dottie, my mind racing. “I know who killed Cornelius Fox.”

Dottie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You can’t mean—”

“I do. But first, let’s think this through.” I gestured for her to sit on the edge of her bed, the tension in the air palpable. “Evelyn has been acting strange ever since I arrived. She seemed overly interested in the will and its implications. But there’s more than that.”

Dottie looked confused, but I pressed on. “Remember the tea? You were all drinking it — but the aroma, it was so strong. It would have been easy to sneak something into it. No one would have noticed ... What if it wasn’t just tea? What if it was poison? And why were there so many cups in and around the study?”

“But why would Evelyn want to poison her own father?” Dottie asked, her voice trembling.

“She wouldn’t. She wants complete control over the Fox family estate, and that control hinges on eliminating the one person who stands in her way — Marcus.” I paced the room as the pieces fell into place. Reg wanted the company to go public, and Marcus knew that his marriage to Dottie would ruin any chance he had at an inheritance. Marcus had nothing to lose by the company going public.

“The other note in the study — it was about shares in the company. I thought Reg must have written it, but I think it was Marcus.”

Dottie stared at me blankly, struggling to process what I’d just said. “He thought it best that the company go public, just like his uncle has been pushing for years. He had nothing to lose by it since he knew his father disapproved of your marriage.”

Unbeknownst to either of us, Marcus has quietly separated from his group to find us, and he emerged from the doorway. “Dottie, it just made sense. Evelyn would have gotten everything, and we all know that she could stand to be taken down a peg or two. I thought that, by taking the company public, she would have to face the music and actually do something with her life.”

I looked to the window, toward the greenhouse where Cornelius lay dead. “But your father didn’t like that plan.” Marcus shook his head, gaze drifting toward the floor. “No. In fact, he decided to give it all to Evelyn. She just didn’t overhear that part of the conversation.”

“What do you mean? What has the tea got to do with this?” Dottie asked, still grappling with the reality of the accusation.

“I knew she had heard our conversation the night before you arrived,” he said as he gestured to me. “My father and I had been arguing over potential share prices, when I heard footsteps running down the hallway, right into Evelyn’s room.” 

“So she missed the grand finale. She was going to be the queen of the castle after all.”

“If she hadn’t ruined it for herself,” added Marcus. 

We turned to Dottie, who was struggling to keep up. She was a sweetheart, always had been, but never the sharpest tool in the shed. I knew from the start that she couldn’t have been behind Cornelius’ untimely passing.

“Evelyn prepared the tea with foxglove, a flower she claimed was crucial for your wedding arrangements. When she learned that Marcus was urging his father to go public with the company, she panicked. The cup of tea in the bathroom was meant for Marcus. What she failed to consider is how Cornelius wouldn’t have thought twice about a cup of tea after the bath, when he opened that window to let out steam.” I continued to piece the timeline together. “Marcus had chosen not to drink any of it, wary of how it was prepared. That’s why Cornelius drank it instead.”

Dottie gasped, realizing the implications. “So, she meant to kill Marcus all along! She thought he would drink the tainted tea first, ensuring that her plans went off without a hitch!”

“Exactly.” I felt a shiver run down my spine.

“What do we do?” Dottie’s voice trembled as the enormity of the situation dawned upon her.

“We must gather everyone. We need to expose Evelyn before she can slip away unnoticed.” I turned toward the door, the key clutched tightly in my palm. “We’ll confront her, but we need to be careful. She’s cunning.”

As our solemn trio stepped into the dimly lit hallway, I could feel the urgency mounting. The rest of the guests would be in the parlor, unaware of the sinister game at play. I knew I had to remain composed; one wrong move could send Evelyn into a frenzy.

We reached the parlor, where Matilda, Reg, and Charles were still discussing the events of the evening, unaware of the gravity of the situation. I immediately took note of Evelyn’s quiet presence in the far corner of the room. 

“Everyone,” I called, and the room fell silent. “We need to talk about Cornelius’s death — and Evelyn.”

Evelyn’s eyes locked on me and her expression hardened, but I pressed on. “Evelyn tried to poison Marcus. Her plan was to ensure her father wrote Marcus out of the will entirely, leaving her in control of the Fox estate.”

Gasps echoed around the room, and Reg stood up. “What are you saying?”

“The tea!” I said, voice rising. “It was poisoned with foxglove. Cornelius drank it when he went into the bathroom, opening the window to let the steam out after Marcus had bathed. Cornelius wasn’t meant to die, Marcus was!”

Evelyn scoffed, her bravado faltering. “This is absurd! You’re grasping at straws!”

“No,” Dottie said, stepping forward, “it makes sense. You wanted your father to disinherit Marcus, and now you think you have it all — except you don’t.” She held up the key, the flower emblem glinting ominously in the light.

Evelyn’s eyes darted around the room, panic creeping in. “You don’t have any proof!”

“I have a key that unlocks the greenhouse, the place where you have so lovingly tended to the foxgloves for months,” I replied, feeling a surge of conviction. “No one else would have been able to access them. You orchestrated this, and now it’s all falling apart. You wanted control, and it cost you everything. Your father never signed the will.”

The room fell into a heavy silence as everyone absorbed the gravity of the accusations. Evelyn opened her mouth, but no words came. Her façade began to crack.

“Call the police,” Marcus said firmly. “We need to ensure that she can’t escape the consequences of what she’s done.”

“I have already phoned them, and they should arrive in the coming minutes.” None of us had noticed Charles sneak away during my monologue, but I felt relieved and grateful that he had. It left Evelyn with few paths for escape.

As I watched her mask of confidence shatter, I knew the tide had turned. Tears streamed down her face, but not a peep she made. Reg and Matilda stared at each other, silenced by shock, attempting to understand the events of the past few hours. 

My focus shifted to Dottie and Marcus, the no longer quite-so-happy couple, and I wondered if the wedding would go on as planned despite the noticeable absence of two guests. Part of me hoped that it wouldn’t. As the sirens wailed in the distance, I realized that in this twisted tale of family loyalty and betrayal, it wasn’t just a matter of who killed Cornelius Fox, but rather how quickly the cunning of a fox could lead to its own undoing.