Page 2 of Death at Inishmore Castle

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. This door is heavy, and if you don’t hold it open, it shuts on its own. Scott and I found out the hard way,” he said.

“Welcome to Inishmore,” said a woman coming down the stairs. She was dressed in jeans, a fluffy sweater, and high leather boots. Her white hair was in a knot on top of her head. “I’m Nora O’Sullivan, and you must be the last of our guests, Lizzie and Mercy McCarthy.”

“Hi, I’m Lizzie, and this is my sister Mercy.”

“Your neighbor, Lolly, is right. You do look like twins, but you’re different enough to tell you apart.”

I grinned. Lolly, and her trusty dog Bernard, practically ran Shamrock Cove. And evidently she had already been gossiping about us. We didn’t mind. She was a lovely woman and the queen of the court where we lived. There were six cottages on the court, and we’d come to adore our wonderful neighbors who lived there.

“Your castle is beautiful,” Lizzie said.

The entry was massive, with a round table in the middle holding a huge vase full of colorful flowers. There was a humungous crystal chandelier overhead, and I wondered who had to dust it. Off to the right were two sets of armor. And the intricately carved banister was off to the right, too. The walls were painted a deep green and had wood detailing all around.

“Thank you. You’ve made it just in time for lunch. Let’s get you settled,” Nora said.

“Wait until you see the rooms,” Rob whispered. “Straight out of an enchanted fairy tale.”

“I love the gargoyles outside,” Lizzie said.

“Those were added by one of our ancestors, who came from France. When she married into the family, she changed the inside and outside of the estate. We have her to thank for many of the adornments.

“Lolly said you two own the bookstore in Shamrock Cove now,” she went on. “And I know that you, Mercy, are a fabulous writer. We’ve read all your books.”

Even though I’d been a writer for most of my life, it was still difficult to accept praise. “Thank you, and we do.”

“I knew your grandfather, Driscoll, he was a lovely man. He always seemed to know what book was right for me. I thought of him as kind of magical.”

“Mercy has the same talent,” Lizzie said.

“So do you,” I added.

“Well, it seems you inherited it from him. I’m sorry I haven’t been by yet. We’ve been so busy with opening the estate to visitors that I just fall into bed each night. But I will come visit soon to stock up. Besides, it might be nice to provide each room with more current reading. Many of our books are in French or Gaelic, and, while beautiful, they aren’t exactly the thing for bedtime reading.”

“We would love to have you,” Lizzie said.

We followed Nora up the stairs and then down two long hallways, with Rob just behind as he had insisted on carrying our bags. We would need a GPS to navigate around the place. The woodwork on the walls was exquisite. It was difficult to find that sort of detail in more modern homes and estates. At the end of the row, she put an old-fashioned brass key into a door and twisted it open.

The room was huge with two four-poster beds. The canopies over them were made of a heavy blue brocade, which matched the curtains, chairs, and sofa. There was a fireplace flanked by large floor-to-ceiling windows.

“We call this the blue room,” Nora said. “The loo is through there.” She pointed to a door on the other side of the room. “Let us know if you need anything. I’ll leave you to freshen up, as I need to check on lunch.” She glanced at her watch. “Which will be in fifteen minutes in the main dining room. Here’s a map of the castle.” She pulled two pieces of paper from her pocket and handed us one each. “Feel free to explore, though we don’t recommend going up to the third floor. We haven’t renovated that yet. It’s drafty and dusty up there.”

“Thank you,” I said. I was looking forward to the exploring part of the trip.

After she left, Rob sat on the edge of the bed. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s not what I thought it would be,” Lizzie said. “It’s much bigger and more luxe.”

“Wait until you see the rest,” he said. “It will be perfect for the fancier fund-raisers our town throws. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Where is the dining room?” I asked.

“We’ve already checked the place out, but don’t worry if you get lost. Just look for the central stairway. The dining room is to the right of the front door.”

“Is our little gang the only guests here? I’m just curious how many rooms they have,” I said.

Our little gang was Rob and his partner Scott, who lived next door. Brenna, who was a photographer, and lived on the other side of us. And Lolly, who lived in number six on our little court. And the local detective, Kieran, who had just moved into number five, but he had been too busy to come to Inishmore Castle with us.

“From what I counted on the map, there are nineteen suites. And besides our crew, there is a priest, a nun, and someone who calls herself a birder.”

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