Page 14

CHAPTER 14

MARPLE JUMPED TO her feet and rushed out onto the interior balcony that overlooked the first floor, Holmes right behind her. Looking down, she saw Poe flailing around in the kitchen, slamming cupboards and kicking the baseboard violently. There was a broken cocktail glass at his feet, surrounded by a small, shiny puddle. He was already pouring himself a replacement for the drink he’d dropped—or thrown.

Marple headed for the staircase. Holmes followed. “Auguste!” she called out. “What happened? Where’s Helene?”

All three were in the kitchen now, crowded around the center island. Poe took a deep sip from his new glass. “Duty called,” he said grimly. He slammed the glass down hard enough to splash the contents onto his sleeve. He looked at Holmes, then at Marple. “Well, I was right. It’s true,” he said. “The baby’s mine.” Poe picked up the glass again and downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. “God, I pity this child!” he moaned.

Holmes leaned in close to his partner. “So you’d rather it was somebody else’s?”

Poe shook his head. “No. Of course not.”

“Then what are you so upset about?” asked Marple.

Poe held up his empty glass. “ This, for one thing. It’s in the genes, you know.”

“The baby has twenty-three chromosomes from each of you,” said Holmes. “With any luck, Helene’s genome will be dominant.”

“Brendan,” said Marple. “Not helpful.”

“I didn’t exactly act the part of the overjoyed papa,” said Poe. “I may have chased her away.”

“It was a shock,” said Marple. “You’re still adjusting. Let things breathe.”

Holmes squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. “This may not be the best time, Auguste, but I’m afraid I have some news too.” He glanced at Marple. “I’m quitting the firm.”

Then, without another word, Holmes turned and walked out the front door.

Poe faced Marple, clearly agitated. “Did you know about this?”

“He told me he was shaky,” Marple replied. “I didn’t think he would actually quit.”

“Should we go after him?”

Marple shook her head. “Not now.”

Poe grabbed another glass from a tray and poured Marple a drink from his bottle. He stopped mid-pour. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot you don’t drink bourbon.”

Marple grabbed the glass and knocked back the booze in one gulp.

“I do now,” she said.