Lucy and the Valentine Verdict Read Online Free PDF Page A

feel safer in the dining room.”
    We did as we were instructed, falling into a
line and walking like eight little ducks behind her. At least I
assumed we all followed, it was still too dark to see much that was
happening around me.
    The dead Mrs. Peabody tapped me on the
shoulder. I revised my duck count to nine.
    “What did you think of my performance?” she
whispered. “I fell forward as they said, but butt up is not my best
side.”
    Completely sympathetic with that, I replied.
“Great. I really thought you were dead.” I hadn’t, but she seemed
pleased with my answer.
    “Can you believe they used the lights out
trick? How cheap is that?” she asked.
    Pretty cheap . But I kept the thought
to myself.
    In the dining room, Lady York set her
candelabra on the table. The glow of the candles did a much better
job of illuminating the smaller room than it had the living
area.
    I did a quick head count. Only Dr. Armstrong
seemed to be missing. Which made sense since he, along with Peter -
who obviously wasn’t as dedicated to his role - had been given the
task of checking for cause of death... even though the body was no
longer lying in the living room waiting to be checked.
    “If everyone will take a seat, Maid Ann and
Mandrake will serve dinner.”
    I realized then that more food had been
placed on the buffet and plates were already set in front of each
seat. Mrs. Peabody winked at me and then took a place at a smaller
table set off to the side.
    No one commented on the dead body, or maybe
she was now a ghost, joining us.
    And despite her recent demise and
accusations of poisoning, everyone seemed happy enough to eat. I
would have been happy enough to eat too, except apparently I was
expected to serve the salad and fill water glasses.
    “Maid Ann,” Lady York called. “That will be
all.”
    I glanced around, wondering where I was
supposed to disappear to.
    Mrs. Peabody pulled out the empty chair
beside her and patted the seat. I didn’t wait to see if her offer
was acceptable to our hosts. I scurried over and stuck a fork in
the steak that Mandrake had been nice enough to leave on the plate
for me before anyone could tell me to do something else, like mop
the floors.
    My concerns, it turned out, were
unwarranted. Lady York’s gaze washed over me as if I wasn’t there
and a couple of minutes later, after finishing his meat
distribution, Mandrake slid into the empty chair on my left.
    “You’re lucky,” Mrs. Peabody explained to
us. “You’re at the invisible table. Everyone else has some
information they have to share during dinner, but we don’t. We can
just sit back and listen.”
    I wasn’t sure if I liked this or not, but I
did like being given free range to eat. Which is what I did,
cutting into my steak as Emily Brent held up her hands and
exclaimed, “Wait! Grace! We must say grace.”
    A childhood of training caused me to take a
guilty pause, but Mrs. Peabody waved her knife at me, reminding me
that this was part of the act and that we, for the moment, weren’t
part of it. I placed the steak in my mouth and chewed, happily.
    Coincidentally, Kiska found me then,
plopping down beside me and wagging his tail expectantly.
    I didn’t usually feed him from the table,
but as Emily Brent droned on, talking about the sins of our
fathers... and mothers... the excesses of wealth and the evils of
alcohol... I could see he was losing patience. It was distract him
with food or have him distract everyone else with a giant malamute
wooing fit.
    I cut my potato into tiny pieces and doled
them out to him a nibble at a time with my left hand, while
continuing to eat the steak with my right.
    “How did you know Mrs. Peabody, Mr. Blore?”
Captain Egg, aka Peter, asked.
    Mr. Blore blinked like a stunned goldfish.
“Who? Me? I didn’t know her, well, not before this evening.”
    “Really? My mistake. I thought I saw you
talking outside before you came in,” Peter added, playing with his
monocle, which, for the