A/N- This is a two part.


It was such a shame.

After all, it had been the most splendid party and a perfect start to a lovely weekend.

Now…

Well…

The maid who had discovered the body had been rather hysterical, the poor dear, and her shrieking had awoken the rest of the -admittedly hungover- house before the breakfast hour.

Elijah- as a doctor- had checked the vital signs and declared him dead and stone cold, meaning he had expired hours ago.

And, as the man in question was lying at the bottom of a staircase with his head twisted at an unnatural angle, he didn't think himself overstepping his bounds in announcing the cause of death to be a broken neck.

Naturally however, they had telephoned for the police, first thing and Elijah had ordered that the body was not to be disturbed in any way.

Fortunately, their hostess Mrs Bennett had had the foresight to arrange for tables and chairs to be set up in the garden near the servants' quarters so the family and guests would have breakfast.

Even though she was an American, a lifetime in England had taught her the importance of a good cup of tea for the soul.

Especially on a chilly spring morning.

Elijah thanked the maid who served him with admittedly shaky hands and studied his companions seated around him at the table.

His two brothers, Niklaus the artist, Kol the stage actor, both brought to Alderley Manor in the hopes of snagging the rich- albeit American- heiress, Bonnie Bennett.

It appeared that Kol was having the most luck in that regard, so Elijah had one less sibling to worry about at least.

Miss Bennett had been educated in America, and unfortunately, did not have the stiff upbringing of an English lady, this death had obviously upset the poor child.

Worse still, she had refused a cup of tea and asked for a coffee instead.

Next to her, was Marcel Gerard, a celebrated war hero, jazz musician and rumoured future politician, whom Kol had already blatantly accused of coming to the Bennett home in the hopes of seeing their sister Rebekah.

However, she had had a previous engagement with an old school friend of hers, thankfully.

Something catches his attention and he raises his eyes to the second floor of the manor, where his wife is standing at the window, observing the scene below.

He can only just make out the smoke from the blasted cigarettes she insists on smoking and when she appears at the table ten minutes later, he can only just note the outline of the mother-of-pearl cigarette holder tucked into the shoulder of her dress.

She rests a hand on his shoulder as she pours a cup of coffee and then proceeds to withdraw a flask from heaven knew where.

"Darling?" he prompts as she tips clear alcohol into the cup, "What on Earth is that?"

Princess Katerina snorts delicately, "Vodka." she states, as if it should have been rather obvious.

Then again, perhaps if his mind weren't on the dead body only half a hundred feet away, it would have been.

"A little early…" Kol drawls, "Is it not comrade?"

Katerina's eyes flash at the word and Elijah glares at his younger brother. No matter how long ago that blasted revolution had taken place, the Russians who had made it to Britain were still dreadfully sore about those now in charge of their motherland.

"It is not for me," she responds, "It is for the widow."

Ah, yes.

"How is she?" Elijah asks, beginning to rise out of his seat, noting his brother Niklaus is doing the same "Does she require anything?"

Katerina snorts, "Vodka cures all," she announces, "A seamstress would help, she will need black clothes for the season, such a shame it is not her colour."

Rather a crass attitude, and Elijah has a moment where he wonders what Katerina's primary concern would be on his own demise.

She re-enters the house as he hears a car coming up the drive and goes to meet the police.

"Detective Inspector Crale and Green."

"Hello," he shakes their hands, "Rather a dreadful accident, such a terrible shame, especially on such a nice day."

Inspector Crale opened his notebook, "What can you tell me about the deceased?"

Elijah turned on his heel and began leading them inside, "Mr Damon Salvatore, American, businessman in…logging, I believe. Came to England to make some deals or meet with someone, I can't quite recall. He and his wife are family friends of the Bennett family."

"And his wife?" Inspector Crale prompted.

"I believe is inside."


First, the officers ask to speak to the maid who discovered the body and then Elijah tells them what he has been able to determine from his brief, hands-off examination. He knows, before they even begin questioning the maid what their main question would be.

'What on Earth was Mr Salvatore doing on the servants' staircase?'

"I haven't the slightest idea," Elijah readily admits, "It's entirely almost completely at the other end of the house from his room."

"Can you tell us what happened the night before?"

"Certainly," he says, "Well, we all arrived throughout the day, having been invited to spend the weekend with Mrs Bennett and her granddaughter. We met for dinner, afterwards the women went to the parlour and the men to the smoking lounge before meeting up to play cards. Around midnight, most of the guests began to retire until merely myself and Mr Salvatore remained, when the conversation lagged, I suggested we go to our respective rooms, but he wished to continue drinking, as prohibition as made that rather difficult in America. Presumably, I was the last person to see him alive, at one-fifteen in the morning."

Inspector Crale raised his eyebrows, "You noted the time?"

Elijah swallowed but nodded calmly, "Mrs Bennett has an antique clock on the sidepiece, I believe it to be a Pompadour piece that I am rather smitten with, I took a chance to admire it before retiring."

"And was it usual for Mr Salvatore to drink unaccompanied?"

He shrugs delicately, "I'm afraid I don't know. My younger brother, Niklaus, is friends with Mr Salvatore's younger brother, he might have a better idea than I."

"Can anyone verify what time you retired?"

Elijah smiles, "My wife, I'm afraid I disturbed her when I went to bed and she scolded me well for it."

This is jotted down and then he is asked to show them to Mr Salvatore's wife.

The formal sitting room was a spectacular example of fine Victorian design, and it was in this room that Elijah and the police officers found Mrs Salvatore sitting on a chaise lounge, being seen to by Mrs Bennett and his wife, Katerina.

The young woman spied him and sniffed, dabbing under her eyes with a handkerchief and straightening her posture.

"How do you do." she replies automatically when the officers introduce themselves, she manages a tight smile but her accent is more pronounced, suggesting emotional turmoil.

"I am sorry for your loss," Inspector Crale tells her, his eyes softening in sympathy for the beautiful young woman before him. "Would you be able to answer a few questions for us?"

"Now?" she stammers, "I…my husband just died!"

Inspector Crale looks shamefaced, "I know it's unpleasant, however, the sooner we can determine what happened, the sooner we can release your husband's body to you for burial."

She takes a deep breath, "Okay," she declares, "What would you like to know?"

"Did your husband have any enemies?"

"Seriously?!" she spluttered, her American accent and speech grating to cultured ears,

"No, certainly none that would follow him all the way to England and then all the way out to Alderley manor to kill him!"

"We simply have to cover all our bases," Inspector Green muttered and she exhaled,

"He stayed up drinking alone last night, after everyone else went to bed" Inspector Crale continued, "Was that usual?"

Caroline glanced down at her shoes, "Yes, my husband did drink a lot, even in America…he bought moonshine from some of his employees, even after I asked him to stop."

The inspector's eyebrows are raised but they don't comment on that,

"Did you not notice when your husband failed to come to bed?" he asked, and she shook her head, a faint blush in her cheeks.

"He had been so drunk," Mrs Caroline Salvatore murmured dully, her eyes wide and blank with shock,

"Usually when he drinks that much he can't make it up the stairs, so I didn't think anything of it when he didn't come to bed."

The Englishmen had a moment of shamefacedness at the distasteful revelation of marital disharmony and the inspector clears his throat before continuing his inquiry.

"Can you think of any reason your husband was going into the servants' quarters?"

"Perhaps…" she shifts awkwardly in her seat, "My husband…often liked to flirt with other women, he might have tried to go down there to find a maid?"

Mrs Bennett sniffs in derision and squares her shoulders, "Are we done, detectives?" she demands and Inspector Crale slips his notebook into his coat,

"I think we have most of what we need, we simply need to confirm the whereabouts of yourself and your guests."

"I can do that."

As one, they turn to Katerina who paused in the act of lighting her cigarette,

"When I retired with the other ladies, I lingered in the gallery by an open window to smoke…and to see if the ladies went to their rooms or someone else's." she adds, grinning wickedly, "And after my careless brute of a husband woke me up, I went for another cigarette and to check if the rooms still held their assigned guests."

Elijah flinches, "Really, Ekaterina!"

She shrugs, "This was shortly around two, everyone was in their proper beds except for Mr Salvatore, so I looked out over the gallery and saw that the lights were still on in the parlour."

Crale raises his eyebrows eagerly, "And did you see him, Ma'm?"

She shakes her head, "No, but I was not looking for him, I did not care for the way Mr Salvatore spoke to me."

Elijah clears his throat, "Mr Salvatore was…rather taken with my wife, says she reminded him of his sister-in-law."

"Elena," Mrs Salvatore supplied, "They could be twins."

Well.

Elijah met Inspector Crale's eye, seeing the same cold disapproval for the deceased mirrored in those orbs.

"Shall we wait outside for the attending physician?" he offered politely, and the police officers followed him to the breakfast table, gratefully accepting cups of tea as they made conversation about the lovely weather until the physician working with the local police department arrived and quickly came to the same conclusion Elijah had.

The man had died of a broken neck, the bruises on his body were consistent with having tumbled down stairs and his position on the floor, along with the amount of alcohol he had consumed the day prior, suggested this had simply been a most unfortunate tragedy.

The body is removed and Mrs Salvatore is sent upstairs with a sedative, escorted by Niklaus so as to ensure she does not trip on the stairs.

As professional courtesy, Elijah sees the men out, lingering in the driveway as he asks them about the nearest golf course and invites them to look him up if they are ever in London.

Mrs Bennett waits for him in the doorway as he watches the car until it turns a corner and disappears.

"They'll rule it an accident?" she asks, her lips barely moving and he smirks as he plays with the cufflinks in his shirt,

"They have no reason not to."

"Good." She declares.


Eighteen Months Later

The sun was shining, and though there were clouds in the sky, they were white as freshly laundered sheets and without the merest hint of rain.

A simply perfect day for a wedding.

Elijah lingered in the church grounds, admiring Mrs Caroline Mikaelson as she graciously accepted congratulations in her lavender wedding dress. His wife informed him that the dress was much more suited to her colouring and considering that she had been married once before, very appropriate for her to wear.

It was likely that the rapidity of the union would be frowned upon by the more stringent members of society, after all, Mr Salvatore had not yet been dead two years, however, she was still young and it was such a shame to waste such a beauty.

Besides, anyone who knew Damon Salvatore had certainly not mourned him, except of course, for Mrs Elena Salvatore, a young girl who had sobbed most scandalously at his hastily arranged funeral.

Between this and some rather heartless discourse between Mr Stefan Salvatore and his sister-in-law, it had been quite easy to convince dear Caroline to remain in Britain, where she had used her husband's business connections to find a buyer for Salvatore logging company in Virginia, she had even got an astoundingly good price for the sale, one that had seen her complimented in the financial section of the Times for 'her sharp mind'

She had purchased a lovely apartment in Hyde Park and, as soon as was decent, began investing her time in charities and social calls, becoming quite the fashionable member of society.

It was how Elijah had come to be taking tea with her and when she had mentioned that she was redecorating, had entreated her to call upon his brother, Niklaus' skills as an artist, assuring her that as a 'dear friend of Bonnie Bennett', the entire family was at her disposal.

Some, they soon realised, more than others.

Really, Niklaus could have waited for six months to pass before he'd begun making love to her, even for an artist, this was rather forward.

Fortunately, between his profession and her being an American, society simply shrugged their shoulders at the sudden engagement and wedding. After all, what was to be expected?

With her posy in hand, Mrs Caroline Mikaelson swept across the churchyard towards him, presenting her cheek for his congratulatory kiss,

"What a splendid event," he declares, chucking her under the chin,

"Welcome to the family, my dear."

She has healthy colour in her cheeks and shining clear eyes that hadn't been there when her husband had been alive,

"Thank-you," she responds, "For this and for…the other thing."

For a moment, Elijah's grin falls off his face and chills run down his spine, even as Caroline continues smiling, he realises that he too had rather underestimated her intelligence.

"Of course." he mutters, almost automatically and she shrugs,

"I have never been in love before," she says, almost casually as she looks back to her new husband, "it's nice."