When they arrived home, they found an unfamiliar car parked out front. Upon coming inside, they found Mattie at the kitchen table with none other than Patrick Tyneman.
"Patrick," Lucien greeted with surprise. "What are you doing here? I mean, shouldn't you be with Susan?"
"Edward is with her," Patrick replied dismissively. Obviously, he'd been informed of what had happened at the theater. "I wanted to speak with you."
"Would you like to come into my study?"
Patrick didn't stand up. "Blake, it's no secret that you solve more crimes than the entire police force combined. And you do it in the most annoying way, which is why they should have fired you about fifty times over."
"Thank you," Lucien quipped.
"That's why I'm talking to you here and not at the police station. And I know Mrs. Blake and Miss O'Brien help you. Since I know you'll tell them anyway, I won't bother to hide anything."
Lucien and Jean both sat down at the table, curious as to what Patrick would say.
He continued, "I didn't want to believe I was in danger when we spoke earlier. But whoever this bastard is, he's gone after my wife. Susan's done nothing wrong. Hell, Susan doesn't do anything, wrong or right. She shouldn't be a part of this."
"Of course," Lucien replied sympathetically.
"It's Charlie Griffith," Patrick said bluntly. "I'm sure of it. He's the only one who's any competition for me. A bidding war, fine. But this is too far. You know he'll go to any lengths to win, and I've beat him at every turn. Now he's trying to get me out of the way."
Lucien considered this theory. It did make sense. What Patrick Tyneman had in business interests, Charlie Griffith had in property holdings. The two families had created parallel empires in Ballarat since the beginning of time. "Patrick, is there anything that's happened recently to provoke this kind of lethal animosity?"
Patrick just shrugged. "Must be a breaking point. But it's gotta be him. I can't imagine anyone else who'd stoop to that level."
"I'll look into it," Lucien replied.
Jean piped up, "Patrick would you like to stay for dinner?"
"No, thank you, Jean. I should see to Susan." And with that, Patrick thanked Lucien, Jean, and Mattie for their help, and left.
During dinner, they all discussed the case. Lucien and Jean weren't convinced about Griffith. But Mattie had found that only a few readily-available chemicals contained high levels of cyanide, and all would be easy to acquire by a man like Charlie Griffith.
"The most common sources of cyanide poisoning, outside of intentional ingestion, are as a byproduct from industrial fire, which obviously didn't happen to Lloyd Conroy, or from the color tone chemicals used in developing photographs," Mattie explained. "And doesn't Charlie Griffith own the buildings on High Street where the Holbrooks have their photography studio?"
Lucien smiled proudly. "Well done, Mattie. I'll look into it first thing tomorrow."
Midway through dinner, Charlie came home after a long day at the police station. He told them all that Dr. Harvey delivered the autopsy report, indicating cyanide poisoning had killed Lloyd Conroy. Charlie had gone back to the Tyenman house and tested all the food in the fridge. It turned out that the roast made for their dinner, which Patrick and Susan had foregone to go out to eat, had been laced with cyanide. Conroy had eaten some of it, rather than allowing it to go to waste, and he'd died very quickly. After that discovery, Charlie had re-interviewed all of the Tynemans' staff. None of them seemed to know what had happened, but none of them had raised any suspicion. Sergeant Hobart had taken over investigating the ceiling collapse at Tyneman Electronics. Apparently there had been repairs to the ventilation system about a week earlier, and the ceiling support beams had been tampered with, making them weak enough to break at any given moment.
All through Charlie's update on the investigation, something gnawed at Jean's mind. But she couldn't quite place what was bothering her. She fixated on it all through dinner and washing up and their customary nightcap in the sitting room before bed.
Lucien finally brought up her quiet preoccupation when they'd gone up to their bedroom. "Penny for your thoughts, love."
She sighed heavily, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I feel like I know what's going on. There's one piece missing and it's as though the answer is on the tip of my tongue!" she told him in frustration.
He chuckled in understanding. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with the feeling."
"It's like I'm trying to remember something, but I can't even remember what I'm trying to remember!"
"I always find that talking it through is quite helpful."
"Yes, I know, that's usually what I'm here for," she said snidely.
He ignored that slight rudeness. "Take it step by step."
Jean closed her eyes, reciting the facts the same way she'd been reciting her lines for the play. "The Tynemans' butler was killed on accident from cyanide poisoning meant for the Tyenmans. It was in their roast. The staff didn't poison it, so it must have come that way. Someone at the butcher had access to it. The chemical contained cyanide, possibly from photography chemicals. The ceiling collapsed at Tyneman Electronics. Someone working on the repair to the ventilation system tampered with the beams. And today, a light fell from the rafters onto the stage, presumably meant to hit Susan Tyneman."
"So where does that lead us?" Lucien asked, guiding her thought process. He certainly hadn't worked anything out yet, but Jean clearly felt like she had the missing piece. She probably did.
Jean's mind scrolled through the people she knew who could possibly been involved in all those things. "The butcher, photography, construction, the theater. Someone has access to all of them." Her eyes snapped open. "Lisa Baxter!" she exclaimed.
"Lisa Baxter?" Lucien repeated in disbelief. "What's little Lisa Baxter got to do with this?"
"No, not Lisa herself." As Jean began to put the pieces together, her eyes went wide with fear. "We've got to call Frank Carlyle right away. We have to get to the Club!"
Jean thankfully hadn't yet changed into her pyjamas. She raced downstairs, shouting for Charlie. "Get your uniform meet us at the Colonist's Club with Frank!" she ordered. She reached for the keys to the car and threw them at her husband behind her. "Lucien, quickly!"
He started the engine as instructed. "Jean, what on earth is going on?"
She explained what she'd worked out, and when he understood its implications, he drove faster.
They arrived at the Club just in time. A young man dressed in uniform was about to break into the Tynemans' room. He was carrying a gun. Lucien, with his extensive military training, was able to disarm him quickly. Jean took the gun as Lucien slammed the boy against the wall, keeping him pinned despite his cries for help.
The Tynemans came from their room, each wearing a dressing gown. "What the devil is going on!?" Patrick shouted.
"You wanted someone to start shooting at you, Patrick, and he nearly did!" Lucien replied, still holding onto the struggling lad and gesturing over to Jean, who was unloading the gun with shaking hands.
Frank and Charlie ran up the stairs a moment later. They arrested the young man and took him to the station. Lucien and Jean would follow shortly.
"You can go home now," Jean told the Tynemans. "I have no doubt Lucien will get a confession tonight," she explained with a prideful tone.
"And you can thank Jean for figuring it all out," Lucien added, putting his arm around his wife's shoulders.
"Jean? What on earth is all of this?" Susan asked in desperate confusion.
"I'll explain it all to you at rehearsal tomorrow," Jean told her. "But this gun is evidence, so we should get it to the station."
With that, the Blakes left. The Tynemans remained in the hallway, both thoroughly baffled at the situation.
Lucien entered the interview room at the police station, armed with all the information Jean had given him. She was the better person to do the interrogation, but as a civilian and a woman, she wasn't allowed in a police interview.
"Good evening, Jimmy Dennis," Lucien greeted as he sat down. "I'm sure Chief Superintendent Carlyle has told you that you don't need to answer my questions, but I'm hoping you will. You see, my wife was rather clever in figuring out what you've been doing, and I'd like to prove her right."
Jimmy sat sullenly, his arms in front of him on the table, shackled in handcuffs.
Lucien continued, "You're a rather industrious lad, aren't you, Jimmy? You do all sorts of odd jobs around town. Sometimes you assist the Holbrooks at the photography studio. You work construction, doing repairs here and there at factories and in shops and at the golf club. You've even been known to do deliveries for the butcher and the grocer, and you fill in as a waiter at the Colonist's Club. Isn't that right?"
Jimmy nodded.
"Right. I thought so. See, that means you had access to all the things used to threaten the Tyemans. You know, Patrick was convinced the attempts on his life were a business rivalry. But that's not true, is it? You're not after anything as petty as money. No, you're a man in love," Lucien said knowingly.
"Lisa's better than any of those women up there," Jimmy mumbled quietly.
Lucien had to smile. Jean had been spot on. "You just wanted to help Lisa."
"She wants to be an actress. And she's brilliant at it. The director even said so! But then he wouldn't give her a good part because Susan Tyneman always plays the lead. Because the Tynemans sponsor the plays," Jimmy explained bitterly.
"And the Tynemans have enough, is that it?" Frank inquired, jumping into the questioning, now that he could see where it was going.
"If the Tynemans weren't around, they wouldn't be pushing everyone else aside to get their way! People deserve to make their way without Patrick bloody Tyneman dictating who can do what!" Jimmy's rage had exploded now. His face was turning red and he slammed his fists on the table.
"Jimmy Dennis, did you make multiple attempts on the lives of Patrick and Susan Tyneman?" Frank asked, shouting over Jimmy's angry yelling.
"Yes, I did! And I would have gotten them this time!"
That was enough for Frank. "Davis, lock him up!"
Charlie took Jimmy to the cell, leaving Lucien and Frank in the interview room.
"Did your wife really figure all that out?" Frank asked.
"Yes. She'd seen Jimmy hanging around the theater with Lisa, who was ever so upset over not getting a better part in the play. And Jimmy's delivered our meat from the butcher at times. He's one of the lads known for doing odd jobs around town. Jean was able to put it all together," Lucien told him.
"That's some wife you've got there, Doc."
"Mmm," Lucien agreed.
The two men went to the outer office of the police station to find Jean waiting. "Did you get a confession?" she asked anxiously.
"We did. And all thanks to you, I'm told," Frank said.
"It was a rather close call," Jean replied humbly.
Frank extended his hand to her. "Thank you, Mrs. Blake. Glad to have you on the team."
Jean was rather stunned. She shook the Chief Superintendent's hand and smiled, not knowing what else to say.
"But don't think I'm going to start paying you more now that I've got both of you working," Frank warned Lucien.
Lucien laughed. "Nah, wouldn't dream of it." He took Jean by the hand and led her out of the police station. In the cool night air, he pulled her into his arms in the shadows of the evening.
"People will see!" Jean warned.
"They won't. And even if they do, I don't care. You saved the day, Jean, and I'm very proud of you."
"You helped me put the pieces together. And you helped me learn my lines. So I should thank you," she teased.
He chuckled. "You're brilliant, and I love you very much."
Jean didn't reply. She merely tilted her head up just enough to catch his lips, allowing him to kiss her far longer than was prudent. But she'd earned a bit of fun. As Lucien had said, she'd saved the day.