by Alana Ling
‘Not necessarily,’ she said and looked at me. ‘I mean, how thorough do you think people like Nick are?’
She was, of course, referring to Nick Cottons, Daniel’s newbie partner, who didn’t have much of a flair for manners let alone investigative work.
‘I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look,’ I told her and let her pick at the rubbish in the bathroom while I looked for the rubbish bin in the room. And I found one next to the desk, by the window.
I sat down and emptied the bin.
Crumpled paper sprinkled the floor and I inspected each and every piece thoroughly. Contracts, plans, forecasts and budgets were among the litter. But there was another paper that looked different. For one, it wasn’t white like the rest, but brown in colour. And when I opened it, I found it contained an arrangement of letters, all cut out from newspaper clippings.
‘I found something,’ I said.
Sam was standing next to me in no time.
‘Well isn’t that interesting?’ she said.
‘How does it feel? Your secrets catching up with you? More will come out if you don’t follow through. Await further instruction or suffer the consequences. B,’ I read aloud.
‘I think it was written by a person whose name starts with B, what do you think?’ Sam laughed.
Instead of answering, I pulled out the other letter from my bag and put them next to each other while Sam stood behind me and read them.
‘What secrets were catching up with him? Why were they so important?’ Sam asked.
‘That is the question, isn’t it? We need to find out.’
Five
We returned to the ground floor and Sam returned the master key card after putting everything back to its original place. Except for the letter of course. That had found a place in my bag next to its predecessor. Coincidentally.
We decided to grab some lunch before continuing our investigation.
I drove us to Bean Therapy, the best coffee shop in town, where Devika, my favourite coffee-brewer and best friend, greeted me with a massive hug and a fresh cup of coffee.
‘I can’t believe what happened. Poor Kit. How’s he holding up?’ she asked, her chai latte flavour soothing my overactive brain.
‘Not so well,’ I said. ‘Jamie is going to try and help, but there’s only so much he can do. Especially with how busy the pub is getting.’
‘Oh,’ Devi said and put her finger on her chin. ‘I might have an idea about that, but anyway, I won’t bore you with the details. I’m assuming you’re hungry?’
Sam nodded more than once and took position in our usual spot, at the booth next to the counter.
‘Perfect. I’ve been testing some sandwich recipes, try and shake the menu up a bit. Want to give the new menu a try?’ she asked.
I smiled and waited for Devi to disappear out the back before I took a breath.
Devi was a nightmare in the kitchen and even the sandwiches she had on offer were made after a lot of trial and error. You would think a sandwich was an easy thing to make. But for Devi, it was a challenge, to say the least.
She came out with a piece of paper and four choices. I went through them, each making me hungrier.
‘These sound awesome,’ Sam exclaimed. ‘Who came up with them?’
‘I did.’ Devi smiled.
‘Nah, really. Who did?’ Sam insisted.
‘Oh bugger off,’ she said and slapped the top of Sam’s head with the menu. ‘Do you want anything or not?’
‘I’ll have a goat’s cheese, chilli jam and avocado toast please,’ I said and a bit of drool ran down my chin.
‘And I’ll have the maple syrup, bacon and egg.’
‘Right away,’ Devi said and fled to the back.
‘What—’ Sam started saying, but Devi popped her head from the kitchen and looked at us.
‘If you have to know, your mum helped me,’ she said and went back in to prepare our lunch.
My mum? Well, it was nice to know she still cared about someone considering she had not called the whole day. I made a mental note to visit her tomorrow morning first thing and sipped my Bali coffee, the brew I’d been obsessed with since my holidays to the Indonesian island.
Sam pulled out a piece of paper and put it in the middle of the table.
‘So, B. Whose name starts with a B?’ she asked.
I took the two letters out and put them next to each other.
‘And what were they threatening Colton with? What secrets did he have?’ I asked.
Sam opened the folder she was carrying which contained a list of all the dinner guests and booted her laptop. She went online on Friendzone, the biggest social media network on the planet, and passed me the list.
I scanned it and told her all the names for her to search and print with her mini portable printer which she carried with her everywhere.
Ten minutes later, when our sandwiches arrived, we had a visual mind map of all the suspects.
‘Oh, what is this?’ Devi asked and sat down next to me.
‘Well,’ I started, but Sam interrupted.
‘We’re investigating another murder.’
As usual, she said it with way too much enthusiasm that made her look a little bit like a psychopath. It was moments like this I realised I didn’t know much about Sam’s past at all.
‘This is the letter we found on Colton and the other one we found in his room. So these are all the suspects with a name starting with B,’ I said.
‘What on earth did he do to them?’ she said, reading the letters.
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out,’ I replied.
‘So who are they? Walk me through,’ Devi said, gesturing over the map of suspects.
‘With pleasure,’ I said.
Sam bit into her sandwich and moaned.
‘This is bloody awesome, girl,’ she said.
Devi smiled.
‘So first, we have the Browns. The people we have been dealing with all day today. They are wine producers from Australia on a trip here to celebrate their addition to Colton’s portfolio,’ I said.
‘That Colton guy, you said he was a supplier, right? So he took the wine from them and sold it to pubs, supermarkets, etcetera?’
‘Correct,’ I said.
‘Could it be a deal gone bad?’ Devi murmured, staring at the pictures of Stephen and Harper.
I shrugged.
‘You’re getting into this, aren’t you,’ Sam said. ‘A month ago you were like “I don’t know anything about murder, but I know good coffee” and now look at you. Thinking like a detective.’
Devi smirked. ‘Well, what can I say? When my friends end up chasing killers every couple of weeks it sort of rubs off on you. So who are the rest?’
I pointed to the next picture of a young, dashing man, with straw-coloured hair and green eyes looking at the camera with a naughty smile.
‘This is Baker Moore. He’s a gin producer from London. His distillery took off a few months ago, after Colton added him to his portfolio,’ I said.
‘Oh, which one is it?’
‘Drops of Juniper? They have it down at the Oak,’ Sam replied.
‘Oh I’ve tried it. It’s delicious,’ Devi said. ‘So Baker is probably not guilty, right? If he’s doing well, and if Colton was killed for money, I mean.’
‘Well, that’s up to us to find out. Then we also have Ginny Brooks. Another gin distiller from London.’
The picture of Ginny stared back at us. Her brown eyes were hidden under the fringe of her blonde hair with blue highlights.
‘What do we know about her?’ Devi asked.
‘She’s got a distillery at her home, so her gin is really crafty and niche. I don’t know why Colton would even sign her, if I’m being honest. He was after the big guns in the industry, so signing her doesn’t make much sense,’ I explained.
‘Maybe he saw something in her. Or, who knows? Maybe he was sleeping with her.’ Devi chuckled.
Sam snorted. ‘The guy is gay,
Devi.’
Devi raised her eyebrow. ‘He could be bi. How do you know?’
Sam shrugged and I moved on.
‘The next one is Henry Bulet, a Canadian winemaker,’ I said, introducing the fifth suspect.
‘From Bulet Vineyards? The Henry Bulet?’ Devi shouted and I had to block my ear.
‘The one and only,’ I answered. ‘Do you know him?’
‘He’s such a babe,’ Devi said, swooning over the man with salt and pepper hair whose picture had been stylistically edited to shade half of his face. ‘Of course I do. He’s all the rage in America. When I went to Canada on holiday all the tabloids were talking about him. He’s like Canada’s most eligible bachelor. He’s like the Canadian version of George Clooney.’
‘Uhm,’ Sam hummed, ‘George Clooney is married.’
Devi laughed. ‘Oh, I forget you’re so young. He is now, but he used to be Hollywood’s biggest heart-throb.’
‘Oh, really. You don’t say,’ Sam mocked.
‘Anyway.’ I pointed to the last B on the list. Valentino Bianchi. ‘He is a wine producer from Italy. A young, self-made millionaire. He was signed by Colton only four months ago.’
‘Well, that’s all well and good, but why would they sign the letter if they wanted to keep their identity private?’ Devi asked.
It was a very good question. And one I was eager to find the answer to.
‘Maybe we should start with Baker,’ I said.
Sam nodded and stood up.
‘Maybe,’ Devi stopped her, ‘you can finish your bloody lunch first. I didn’t slave off for nothing.’
Sam dropped back down and grabbed hers.
Those two certainly had grown closer to each other. I took a moment to appreciate the family I’d made around me. It was a good one.
Six
I drove us back to the hotel and we were determined to interview all of our suspects before the day was over, starting with Baker, but first, we had to find him.
I walked to reception where Rosalind was still at and greeted her.
‘Can you tell me if Mr. Baker Moore is in his room?’
She shook her head before I finished my sentence.
‘He’s actually in the interview room with the detective. He’s been there a while,’ she said.
Was Baker a prime suspect? Had Daniel discovered something we didn’t know? I hated not having access to all the information he had. Not that it had stopped me so far from discovering the culprits before him.
Sam and I walked around the lobby to the back, where all the meeting rooms were situated, and we found Nick waiting outside the interview room standing still.
‘Hi Nick,’ I greeted him.
As soon as he noticed us, he relaxed. ‘What are you doing here?’ he said with an exasperated look.
‘Nice to see you too,’ Sam sang with a big, and fake, smile.
‘Well, the detective has told me you might be snooping around, so excuse me, but what are you up to?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Oh dear, Nick. Do you think so lowly of us?’
He stilled his body again and looked at the empty space behind us. I wasn’t sure what had brought the change, until the door opened and Daniel came out. Baker accompanied him with red eyes and a tissue in his hands. The alcalcoholohol in his flavour was stronger than the juniper and I winced, but I quickly composed myself again.
‘Joanna, lovely to see you again. Perfect timing, actually. Would you mind helping this young man to a glass of water and perhaps some lunch?’
He didn’t need to ask me twice. I was still annoyed with what Nick had said and would have loved to find out if Daniel had indeed said those words to him, but he was giving me what I needed so I couldn’t complain.
‘Most certainly, Detective,’ I replied and grabbed Baker’s hand.
‘Nick, if you can call Mr. Bianchi in please,’ Daniel said as we started our way to the front. All six of the hotel meeting rooms were in the same area, with the communal area stylised as a modern warehouse, with beautiful floor to ceiling windows and green plants dotted on either side of each window. A large island was in the middle with a selection of fruit, pastries and continental breakfast and canapés.
Daniel was back in his interview room and Nick had disappeared inside a lift. I stopped Baker and asked Sam to help him take a seat in one of the armchairs while I filled a plate with snacks and got him a glass of water.
‘There you go.’ I passed him the glass and he downed it in one go. ‘Are you all right? Did it get too intense in there?’
He took a few breaths and covered his face with his hand.
‘It’s not that,’ he said through his hand. ‘It’s just, too much to process all in one day.’
‘Process what?’ I asked. ‘Colton’s death?’
Baker uncovered his face. ‘And all the stuff that came out of it.’
Sam went to refill his glass and upon returning offered the glass back to him.
‘What stuff?’ she asked.
Baker sat up on the seat and took the water from her but held it in front of him.
‘Oh, you know. The usual,’ he said and stared off into space.
I kneeled in front of him and grabbed his shoulder. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
He didn’t hear me. He kept staring into space.
‘Mr. Moore, do you know who would want to hurt Colton?’ I asked.
Before he could answer, Nick returned with a small man with dark features, a white shirt and white trousers. Valentino Bianchi, the wine producer.
Baker was staring at him, his face all tight and the anger visible in his eyes.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked again.
Valentino looked at our direction, and so did Nick, but before long they were both in the office and out of sight.
Baker cursed.
‘Do you not like him?’ I asked.
Baker choked. ‘Maybe ask him. Maybe he knows who hurt Colton.’
‘Why? Do you know something we don’t?’ Sam asked all the way from the refreshments. She grabbed a banana and came back closer.
‘I-I,’ he stuttered. ‘I just know he had a vested interest in Colton and his company.’
‘What sort of interest?’ I asked, but he ignored me.
‘Thank you for looking after me. I’m feeling much better now. I guess I’ll be seeing you around,’ he said and with barely a nod headed out towards the front of the hotel.
‘Mr. Moore,’ I called out to him. ‘If you know something—’ I shouted, but he was already gone. He dashed faster than a track and field Olympian.
‘He’s acting weird,’ Sam said. ‘I wonder what he’s hiding.’
I pursed my lips and looked at the door of The Louis Suite, the meeting room where Daniel was conducting an interview with Valentino.
‘Maybe Mr. Bianchi can enlighten us.’
* * *
We loitered around the break-out area and indulged in more than a few of the delicacies reserved for overnight guests and meeting delegates.
Eventually, ten minutes later, which felt like an hour, Valentino exited the meeting room in a much better state than Baker had left it.
In fact, his appearance wouldn’t have betrayed he had just been interviewed about a murder if someone else had seen him.
‘Mr. Bianchi, how was the interview?’ I asked him.
‘Thorough,’ he said without a second thought, the pear tart he tasted of sticking to my palate. Craving for the dessert, I grabbed for the next best thing. A pear made it to my hands from the fruit platter and I walked closer to him.
‘I-Detective Anderson has asked me to look after the guests in between interviews. Would you care for some snacks before you return to your business?’ I asked, placing my hand on the small of his back and urging him towards the refreshments area.
When we got there, Sam took him by the hand and sat him on the opposite side, where we weren’t in direct view of the meeting room Daniel was conducting his investigation
from. I filled a plate with pastries, which I knew were his favourite comfort food. Sam and I’d had to ensure the hotel offered him a generous supply of freshly baked goods on a daily basis, delivered to his room in time for breakfast.
I was glad to see that, even in the situation he was in, he was still a man of habit, as he took the plate and bit into a butter croissant.
‘Ah, that’s nice of you, no? Get me some orange juice,’ he said.
I squeezed my fists and poured some orange juice in a glass for him.
I passed him the juice with a passive-aggressive please and he drank it loudly.
‘How did it go, then?’ Sam asked.
Valentino paused and stared at her.
‘But very well, of course. I’ve nothing to hide, and the detective knows that.’
‘So, he knows about your interest in Colton?’ Sam said before I could stop her.
It was a question circling my mind too, so I couldn’t blame her.
Valentino winced and stared at us.
‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about,’ he said.
‘Well, Mr. Moore told us you had a vested interest in Colton and his company,’ I explained.
He laughed, spraying us with crumbs. ‘But this is so funny. Of course I had an interest in his company. I was one of his biggest clients. I wanted to make sure he could provide the service I was after.’
I crossed my arms and kept my eyes on him.
‘Is that all? Are you sure there’s nothing more to Mr. Moore’s claim?’
Valentino turned to me and snorted.
‘Please understand that Baker is the jealous type. He knows his product could never sell as well as my wine so he sees anyone with a little bit more rigour in their business acumen as a threat to him.’
Valentino stood and gave me the plate back.
‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do. For my million euro company,’ he said and started to walk away. ‘Arrivederci!’
‘Well, that was a waste of time.’ Sam cursed.
I reached out to her and grabbed her shoulders. ‘You’re very impatient, my dear friend. After all—’ I started saying but was interrupted by a shriek of a voice and both of us ducked behind the counter.
