by Diane Ezzard
Dotty explained how she thought the mass was some old clothes that had been thrown in, initially. She related how she ran for help rather than diving in herself because she wasn’t a strong swimmer. That wasn’t strictly true. If she was honest, she could only imagine entering cold murky water under protest or if a child or animal was in danger. Her auburn shoulder-length hair had been tied back but the thought of getting it wet, much least in the stagnant waters of the lake abhorred her. Plus, she would have looked a dreadful sight if her mascara ran.
Dotty’s looks were important to her. She almost always wore makeup, and she loved experimenting with new colours and styles. Because she liked vintage fashion, she used colours that were popular it that era. Bright red lipstick and black eyeliner were staples in Dotty’s look.
“And was anyone else around when you walked around the lake?”
“No, I didn’t see anyone.”
“I see.” DS Collins looked at her then at the notes she had made. “What was the name of the chap who came to the rescue?”
“Montgomery Carruthers.” DS Collins scribbled down the name. “Oh, this blasted pen’s run out,” she said, throwing the pen on the floor of the vehicle.
“Here gov, take mine,” the young police officer who sat quietly in the front of the car passed her a biro. Dotty had forgotten he was there.
“Was anyone else around the area, at the time, Dotty?”
“The nearest tent to the lake is the fortune teller’s. There was a small crowd stood outside, but no one there I recognised.”
“Okay.” DS Collins looked outside the vehicle. A member of the forensic team walked towards the car. DS Collins hutched up her body and opened the door.
As she climbed out, she called to Dotty, “That’ll be all for now, thanks, Dotty.”
“We’ll have the samples off to the lab in a jiffy. We’ve taken swaps from his mouth. It looked like he’d vomited at some stage. There were food particles stuck to his clothing,” the woman in the white overalls said.
Oh, yuck, Dotty thought as she listened in wondering how Nigel lost his life. Had he drowned or was he pushed?
Chapter 3
Nigel Hastings was found dead on the first day of the two-day fair. The committee held an urgent emergency meeting and decided that the show must go on. There was too much at stake financially from sponsorship deals. Cancelling was unthinkable. The last time they cancelled the show was down to destruction because of the great storm back in the eighties. The number of trees that came crashing down caused by the extratropical cyclone in 1987 was unsurpassed. Gale-force winds caused substantial damage in the area the day before the Autumn Fair was due to take place. Schools had to be closed. People couldn’t go about their business. Trees were strewn everywhere on that occasion and whilst Nigel’s death was a serious matter, the consensus was he would have wanted the fair to continue in his absence. Only Edna Salcombe protested. She thought the event should have been cancelled out of respect for Nigel. Everyone else disagreed. They argued that Nigel himself would have been a staunch supporter for the fair to be a success. Even Nigel’s ex-wife, Judith who was at the event agreed that he would have insisted everything go ahead as normal. Dotty was secretly pleased about that. She invested a lot of time and money preparing her confectionery. Their shelf-life might have meant the chocolates lasting another week or two but not in the vast quantities she brought to the country fair. As it turned out, she did well and sold the lot.
On Sunday, Kylie turned up again to help. Dotty suspected that Kylie helped herself to a few too many of Dotty’s chocolates but as she couldn’t afford to pay her friend, she said nothing. Kylie saw it as a perk of the job and encouraged Dotty to walk around the fair when it was quiet in the afternoon.
Dotty chatted to a few of the other stallholders after bumping into the postman and the local vicar. She smiled and continued weaving through the circuit of stands. She had her eye on a lovely patchwork cushion. Unable to resist, she bought it to put away ready for when she eventually moved out into her own flat. She was doing what her grandma called saving for her bottom drawer. Back in her grandma’s day, that was what girls did, hoarding items for when they got wed. Dotty would love to find someone to marry but hadn’t met Mr Right yet. She thought about her two policeman friends, Dave and Wayne. Would she ever settle down with either of them and follow in her mum’s footsteps by marrying a copper?
After yesterday’s gruesome find, she decided not to venture too near the lake today. She walked outside and stopped outside the fortune teller’s tent. A blackboard leaned against the entrance advertising the cost of various types of reading. Reggae music came from inside. Dotty’s shoulders bounced up and down, then her feet started tapping. There was something about listening to Bob Marley that made her feel jolly and want to dance. A large West Indian lady appeared in the doorway. She swished her plaited hair and wiggled her hips with her arms flapping in time to the music.
“Yeah man, do you like my music?” She continued to dance, rolling her hands in a circular fashion.
“I love a bit of reggae. It always puts me in a good mood.” Dotty smiled.
“Me too.” The woman laughed so loud it made Dotty jump. The bangles on the woman’s arms jangled. Every finger displayed at least one ring. She took hold of Dotty’s hand.
“Let me read your cards. I’ll do it for half price.”
“I… I don’t know.” Dotty looked across the lake and back. She couldn’t think of an excuse quick enough to wriggle out of it. The woman looked at Dotty’s palm and stroked her thumb across it.
“I can see you have a creative talent. I hope you are using it, my dear.”
“Err, well yes.” The woman’s comment convinced Dotty that she should give it a bash. After all, it was only a bit of light-hearted fun.
“Come, follow me.” The woman brushed past the beads that covered the entrance to the tiny room inside the tent. “Please, take a seat. My name is Delphinia.”
“I’m Dotty.”
“Pleased to meet you, Dotty.” Both women sat down. “Please, choose a pack of cards.” Dotty looked down at the table. There were four different sets. Each one looked well worn. She chose the one with the picture of a tree on the back. She thought it appeared the most hopeful. Dotty only had her fortune told once before. That was on a trip to Brighton. On that occasion, she was told she would be married and have three kids by now. That didn’t come to fruition, so she would take anything she heard with a pinch of salt. Her dad moaned about fortune-tellers and clairvoyants from an early age, so it was something she generally steered clear of. Sometimes she was intrigued to know what the future held, but it had been drummed into her by her dad that she was the master of her own destiny.
So far, she hadn’t been doing a very good job of that. Dotty stumbled from one relationship to another, never finding someone suitable. She had been the same with jobs. It was hard for her to make her mind up what she wanted out of life. She was curious to know what Delphinia would tell her. Dotty watched as Delphinia shuffled the pack. Dotty was mesmerised by her heavy jewellery and she had the longest fingernails that Dotty had ever seen.
“Are you a Gemini?” she asked Dotty.
“Yes,” Dotty frowned. “How did you know that?”
“I sense it from your demeanour. You seem restless. It is hard to get you to settle down long enough for you to take passion or anything else seriously. Am I right? That is what you want to know about, isn’t it? I can tell you are intrigued to hear about how your love life will turn out.”
“Aren’t we all?” Dotty laughed nervously, stunned by the accuracy of the woman.
“You haven’t met him yet, so don’t waste your time with anyone on the scene at the moment.”
“Oh, I see.” Dotty couldn’t help but feel a tad disappointed by that news. The cards were laid out across the table. Delphinia pointed at the first one, the emperor.
“You have been influenced by an older person who holds fast to tradit
ion. He has protected you in the past. He may be domineering and stubborn at times, but he only wants what is best for you. He is there to support you in your ventures.” Dotty knew she meant her dad. A vision came into her head of her dad shouting at the mess she left in the kitchen. Maybe Delphinia hadn’t got it quite correct on the supportive front. “Although he often displays good judgement, he doesn’t always get things right.” This woman is good, Dotty thought. Delphinia stopped concentrating on the cards for a moment and touched her temple. “I’m getting the letter R. Do you know anyone with that initial?”
“I have a friend called Rachel.” Dotty raised her eyebrows.
“No, this is a male.” Dotty groaned.
“I had an ex-partner called Ray. He was a pain and took ages to get rid of.” Delphina stared at Dotty. “I… I don’t mean literally get rid of. I didn’t bump him off or anything. Could it be him?” She gave a nervous laugh.
“Possibly. I must warn you to be careful around this person.” Delphinia looked down and turned the next card. “Oh dear, Dotty. Things aren’t going your way right now, are they? The ten of swords isn’t good news. You need to manage a despairing situation in the best way you can. You are likely to have an unwelcome surprise soon. There’s some sort of failure here,” she said tapping the card. “Something untoward is coming. Let’s see if we can find better news.” Delphinia smiled and turned over the next card. Dotty sighed. It didn’t look good. It was the death card. “Don’t worry, this card can signify new beginnings after the death of something. Although…” Delphinia’s eyes narrowed. There was something about the way she gazed at Dotty which made her believe she could see into her soul.
“It was me who found the body yesterday. Could that be what you see?”
“What, you found that dreadful man?” Delphinia shuddered and closed her eyes. She clasped her hands together and spoke in what Dotty could only describe as gobbledegook.
“I’m praying in tongues, Lord have mercy,” she said, opening one eye. “God forgive me for thinking bad thoughts about him, but I can’t say I’m not happy that he is no longer with us.”
“You didn’t like Nigel then?”
“No, I did not. Do you know, he called me a charlatan and tried to get me banned from the fair? It was outrageous. He was not a very nice man, not nice at all.” She tutted. “Sorry, where were we? Ah yes, death. It seems to surround you, my dear, I’m afraid.”
Dotty was glad when the ordeal was over. Although she was amazed at some of Delphinia’s revelations, she didn’t like the idea of bad news coming her way. She was about to leave the tent when she was almost bowled over by a young black man.
“Winston, what have I told you about getting under my feet when I am working? What do you want now?”
“I want some money for a burger.” He scowled at Dotty.
“Here.” Delphina reached into her purse, her arms jangling. She passed him a twenty-pound note. “Make sure you bring me the change.” Then she turned to Dotty and said, “Sorry about that. My son is always hungry. I wish he’d stayed at home. He’s like a human dustbin.”
Dotty left Delphinia and walked back to her chocolate stall. Something disturbed her about meeting the woman and she couldn’t put her finger on what.
Chapter 4
Dotty’s dad put down the newspaper. He folded it up and placed it neatly inside the magazine rack. Dotty watched him. She was having a ten-minute breather from making her chocolates. He’d tidied his paper away so precisely, yet it would be out again in a short while when he opened it do to the crossword. Dotty couldn’t understand the importance of neatness. Pete’s motto was — tidy place, tidy mind. Maybe he was onto something there because Dotty’s mind could get smutty. Spending so much time with Kylie caused it, either that or her barren love life.
She thought about the two men she had designs on. They weren’t exactly in her life yet. She snogged Wayne on New Year’s Eve and danced with Dave, but nothing progressed any further. Neither of them used social media. Dotty wondered if it was a police security instruction so that criminals that they locked up wouldn’t know their whereabouts and be able to revenge target them. She had Wayne’s number, but she wouldn’t contact him. If he wanted to take her out as he suggested, then he could do the running. Dotty was old-fashioned like that and believed in courtship.
“You like to go foraging, don’t you, Dotty?”
“Yes, why, Dad?”
“I’ve been talking to my old pal from forensics, Ian Frampton. He tells me it was a dodgy dose of mushrooms that killed old Nigel Hastings. He didn’t drown. It was a severe reaction to mushrooms.”
“Mushrooms? What, was he poisoned?”
“Well, that’s the six-million-dollar question that the police will have to find out. How did those mushrooms get inside his system?”
“I often pick mushrooms up at Dosier Wood when I’m out walking with Winnie.” At the sound of her name, the little poodle padded into the conservatory where Dotty and her dad sat talking. She wagged her tail. Dotty bent down and stroked her.
“Yes, we were talking about you, weren’t we?” Dotty smiled at Winnie. She spoke in the same tone as she would if speaking to a tiny baby. Winnie put her front paws up onto the sofa.
“No, down, Winnie. There’s a good dog.” Dotty’s tone became more adult-like. Pete watched his daughter with the family pet. He knew how much she idolised that dog.
“Funnily enough, I read an article about mushrooms in Gardener’s Weekly. Let me find it.” Pete rummaged through the magazines and pulled one out. “Here it is.” He flicked through the pages and opened it out to a centrefold showing mushrooms of differing shapes and sizes. He pointed to one of the pictures.
“You’d be hard-pressed for thinking that one wasn’t edible. Look at this, the Amanita phalloides or death cap looks like a common garden mushroom. There are whole hosts of deadly poisonous mushrooms that could make you very poorly or kill you.”
“Oh, how awful. I wonder what he had for his lunch. Could it have been something he ate that killed him?”
“Quite possibly, and if that was the case, then how did it get in his stomach?”
It wasn’t long before that question was answered. Dotty received a call, the following week, from Millie. Dotty had struck up a friendship recently with Millie after she booked the next table at the local farmer’s market. Millie was another foodie like Dotty and both girls liked to discuss recipes and cookery shows. Millie ran a homemade soup stall at weekends. Dotty’s phone rang, and she saw it was Millie’s number.
“Millie, are you there?” All Dotty could hear was crying. Finally, Millie spoke amid the sobs.
“They think I killed him.”
“What are you talking about, Millie?” The poor girl was beside herself.
“Nigel Hastings was killed after eating soup he bought from my stall. I served up three different soups that day — mushroom, a beef broth and a pea and ham soup. Nigel had the first portion of the mushroom soup.”
“Well, if it was the mushrooms in the soup that killed Nigel, how come no one else was affected?”
“Because the person who bought the next cup brought his back with a fly in it. When I opened the lid, there was also a large beetle that somehow got into the pot, so I threw the rest of the batch away. Luckily, only Nigel had some, otherwise, I might have killed a whole bunch of others.” Millie’s wailing was so loud that Dotty had to hold the phone away from her ear.
“This sounds very suspicious.”
“That’s why the police had me down at the station all day. They’ve only just released me. What am I going to do? They’ve told me not to leave the country.”
“Why? Were you planning on running away?”
“No, but they think I’m guilty or they wouldn’t have said that.”
“I’m sure they say that to everyone.”
“Did they say it to you? I mean you found the body.”
“No, but it might have been an oversight on their p
art. They probably meant to tell me. They only say it because they may need to ask you more questions. I wouldn’t worry. If they believed you were guilty, they wouldn’t have released you.” Millie’s wails grew louder.
But Millie was worried to the point that when she phoned Dotty again the following day, she told her she was feeling suicidal over the trauma of the incident.
“You mustn’t get yourself upset like this. I will be here for you and do all I can to help. Please call me if you need me.” Dotty realised then she must do what she could to support her friend. This called for immediate action. She phoned her two best friends, Kylie and Rachel and they arranged to meet up at the Strawberry tea rooms, their regular meeting place.
“Have you brought your pad, Rachel?” Dotty asked her friend whose middle name should be efficiency. Rachel worked in an office as an admin assistant and loved bringing her corporate knowledge to try out on her friends. They had regular brainstorming sessions, much to Dotty and Kylie’s annoyance. This time Dotty took charge. “I’m worried about Millie. This business with Nigel Hastings is having a massive impact on her health. We’ve got to help her.”
“You don’t think she killed him then?” Kylie took a bite out of her cheese and ham toastie. The way she tore at it, she looked like a cave woman who hadn’t eaten for a week. The other two glared at her.
“Of course, she didn’t kill him. That poor woman hasn’t got an unkind bone in her body.”
“I just wanted to put it out there and check. I mean, if we were the police, we would suspect everyone, even you, Dotty.”
“Dotty’ s nostrils flared. Kylie had the knack of saying throwaway comments that were so unkind sometimes.
“Well, if that’s the case, then you could also have done it. You were in the area.”
“Ah, but I wasn’t as close as you were to the action. I didn’t find a body.”
“Will you two stop it. This is getting ridiculous. We know that you or Millie didn’t kill anyone.” Rachel took on the role of peacemaker like a member of the United Nations. “Now let’s see who we have as suspects. Have you got your pen ready, Dotty? Write this down,” she said, wagging her finger towards the lined pad. “Who didn’t like nasty Nigel?”
