by Morgana Best
“How will we know?” I asked Aunt Agnes.
“We’ll follow up the information of course, and if it proves false, then we’ll know she was lying.”
I didn’t think it would be so simple, and I said so. “That all seems rather black and white, Aunt Agnes,” I pointed out.
“Most things are,” Aunt Agnes said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“I hope we’re not here too long,” I complained. “Just as well we got some coffee and snacks on the way.”
“I’m hungry already,” Aunt Agnes said. “We had better ration the food. We don’t know how long we will be here.”
“I had a thought on the drive here,” I said. “If the victim was actually blackmailing Mrs Mumbles and her lover, then the two of them would surely be in close contact, even if one of them wasn’t responsible for his murder. They would have to know they would be major suspects, so they would be in touch even more often, comparing notes.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Aunt Agnes said and then took a large gulp of coffee.
We were parked under a beautiful jacaranda tree, and a gentle breeze blew some purple leaves across the windscreen. “That’s so magical,” I said to Aunt Agnes.
She ignored me, and said, “If only Breena could remember her past. But then again, maybe she does and she is not telling us.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Aunt Agnes, do you think the murder was something to do with The Other, or do you think it’s an entirely separate incident?”
Aunt Agnes held up both hands, palms upwards. “I don’t have a clue, to be honest. It seems a strange coincidence, but then again coincidences do happen.”
“I suppose so,” I said. My stomach rumbled loudly. “I hope Breena comes back soon.”
I was half asleep when Breena returned. Aunt Agnes slipped out of the car and flung a bathrobe around her. “You shouldn’t be running through the bushes naked,” Aunt Agnes said in horror. “Why didn’t you turn back into your cat form?”
Breena did not respond.
“Into the car with you,” Aunt Agnes said.
“Did you find something out?” I asked an encouraging tone.
Breena nodded.
“Did you find out the name of Mrs Mumbles’ lover?” Aunt Agnes asked her.
She shook her head.
“Did you find out if Mrs Mumbles murdered Ethelbert Jones?”
Breena shook her head again.
I decided to take over the questioning. “What did you find out, Breena?”
“Caravan. Caravan down the back. Out of bounds. Meets him there.”
“Good work, Breena,” I said, impressed she had said so many words at once.
She purred.
“So, you don’t know who he is or anything like that? She didn’t call him by name?” Aunt Agnes said. She was smiling, but I could see she was agitated.
“Meeting him soon,” Breena added.
Aunt Agnes was genuinely pleased. “Good work, Breena.”
Breena purred louder.
“We should go there now,” I said.
Aunt Agnes asked Breena, “Do you know where this caravan is?”
“Yes.”
“Can you show us?”
“Yes,” Breena said again.
It dawned on me why Aunt Agnes wasn’t sending Breena to spy on Mrs Mumbles and her lover. It was because she didn’t trust her.
We drove down a dirt lane, a rarely used dirt lane by the look of things. Aunt Agnes stopped the car when we reached some bushland. “Breena, Valkyrie will follow you. Can you change back into cat form, but don’t lose us, will you? We will have trouble keeping up with you.”
Breena changed back into a cat by way of response. She hissed angrily as the bathrobe enveloped her. Aunt Agnes at once lifted it off her. We all got out of the car and Breena carefully padded her way down the road, looking over her shoulder to make sure we could keep up.
We had to go through a paddock full of cows. They all stopped grazing and turned to stare at us. “I hope there isn’t a bull in here,” Aunt Agnes said, looking around.
I didn’t respond but simply followed Aunt Agnes who was following Breena. We skirted around some stinging nettle and then through some spotted gums and bottle brushes down by a stagnant pond full of croaking frogs.
“What if there are crocodiles?” Aunt Agnes said, clutching my arm.
“Aunt Agnes, have you gone mad! There are no crocs this far south.”
Aunt Agnes shuddered. “How do you know? They’re cunning.”
I pulled out my phone and searched. “See!” I said triumphantly. “The furthest south crocodiles have been spotted is a seven hour drive north of here.”
Aunt Agnes did not respond. She was crouching as she hurried past a bunch of reeds. I did the same until we reached thick undergrowth.
“There are probably snakes and ticks in here,” Aunt Agnes said.
I decided it prudent not to comment on Aunt Agnes’s sudden fear of wildlife. “Is it far?” I asked Breena, but she was in cat form so did not respond. At least she kept waiting for us to catch up.
We reached a spot where the tree roots covered the ground. The roots made the going difficult, and a fall would mean a twisted ankle. Finally, we spotted the caravan. It was an old one, shabby white in colour and covered with patches of pale green mildew.
There was a high wire fence around it and a lot of old wooden pallets covered with mildew. I figured it had been used as a storage area, and maybe still was. The dirt road ran past it. A dirty white goat was in a nearby paddock. She, too, watched us as we went past.
The cat sat down. Aunt Agnes and I crouched. “Good work, Breena,” Aunt Agnes said. “Stay in cat form for now.”
Breena simply washed her face with one paw.
“I hope Mrs Mumbles doesn’t take long,” I complained. “We haven’t brought any food or coffee.”
“Sometimes I wonder if all you think about is your stomach,” Aunt Agnes said.
“All this spying makes me hungry.”
Aunt Agnes rolled her eyes, and then grabbed my arm as Mrs Mumbles scurried down the hill. She was moving quite nimbly.
When she reached the caravan, she looked around before letting herself inside. There was no sign of her lover. “Is her lover in there already?” Aunt Agnes asked Breena.
She simply meowed.
Just then I heard a car in the distance. “There’s your answer,” I said. “The staff at the nursery won’t see him coming from that direction. Still, surely if one of them wanders down, they would see the car here.”
“The staff wouldn’t have any reason to wander down,” Aunt Agnes said, “and there’s a hill between this caravan and the nursery. Besides, I’m pretty sure that road is Mrs Mumbles’ private road, and I guess she keeps it locked and he has the key.”
“What if someone sees him unlock it to get in?” I asked Aunt Agnes.
She shrugged. “I have no idea.”
The car came into view. I held my breath, waiting to see who it was. It wasn’t a vintage car and it wasn’t the white car Alec Aldon had followed us in.
When I saw the identity of the man who got out of the car, I gasped.
“Killian Cosgrove!” I said. “It’s Killian Cosgrove!”
“Shush,” Aunt Agnes said. “He might be here for an innocent reason. Perhaps he does pedicure house calls and collects the money on the sly so his wife won’t know.”
I looked at Aunt Agnes as if she had lost her marbles, but didn’t say anything.
Mrs Mumbles emerged from the caravan and soon engaged Killian in a passionate kiss. I raised my eyes at Aunt Agnes as if to say, ‘I told you so.’
They hurried into the caravan.
“I was going to send Breena up that tree to see if the person who arrived was Mrs Mumbles’ lover, but I think we’ve seen for ourselves,” Aunt Agnes said. “Let’s leave.”
Aunt Agnes and Breena took off, but I had a cramp in my leg. “Hurry up, Valkyrie,”
Aunt Agnes said.
“I’ll be right behind you,” I said. “Cramp! Ouch!”
Breena ran ahead and Aunt Agnes took off after her. I flexed my foot until the cramp went and then tried to stand up, but as I did so I tripped hard, saying rude words I fell. I sat in the mud with a hand clamped over my mouth, hoping I hadn’t been heard. I risked a look at the caravan and saw the curtains slide shut.
Had Mrs Mumbles or Killian Cosgrove seen me? And what if one of them was the killer? I crouched down, intending to sprint as fast as I could in that position to the safety of Aunt Agnes’s car once the cramp had eased.
A heavy hand clamped over my mouth.
Chapter 20
I struggled and tried to scream, but my attacker was too strong for me. I hoped Aunt Agnes or Breena would come back looking for me.
My assailant dragged me towards the caravan. I figured it was either Killian Cosgrove or Mrs Mumbles, so someone had seen me through the window, after all.
The caravan door flung open and I was pushed inside, coming face to face with a startled Mrs Mumbles. “Killian, you didn’t!” she screeched. Her face was as white as a ghost.
“She saw us,” he said. “She was snooping around.”
“So what?” Mrs Mumbles said. “She can’t know anything.”
“She and her aunt know about us,” he said. “I told you they said you recommended the spa, but you didn’t.”
“They might have been confused,” Mrs Mumbles protested. “After all, the police think Agnes Jasper murdered Ethelbert, so she was simply doing some investigating on her own.”
Killian had pushed me into the seat in the caravan and was pressing down on my shoulder with one meaty hand.
“Did you murder Ethelbert Jones?” I asked him.
“Don’t say anything,” Mrs Mumbles said to Killian.
“She knows, Mildred. Don’t you understand? She knows it was me.”
“Then if she knows, her aunts do too. Why didn’t you just leave her alone? They can’t prove anything.”
Killian sighed. “Mildred, I’ve already explained this. She saw us here. If nothing else, she knows we’re having an affair. I’ve gone to all those lengths to stop people knowing about the affair. We paid that dreadful man a fortune. And what if your husband finds out about us?”
“So Ethelbert Jones was blackmailing you both, was he?” I said. I wanted to keep them talking, because surely Aunt Agnes would come back looking for me at any minute.
“Yes, he was a leech,” Killian snapped. He was still pressing down on my shoulder. “He wanted more and more money. Mildred couldn’t afford to take any more out of her business, and if I took any more out of the business I own with my wife, then she’d get suspicious.”
“Why don’t both of you leave your partners?” I asked them.
“Because I have a pre-nup with my husband,” Mrs Mumbles said. “He’s a wealthy businessman who spends nearly all his time in Sydney. If Killian’s wife found out he was having an affair with me and she told my husband, he’d divorce me and I wouldn’t get a cent. I’d lose my business. Killian, what are you going to do with her?” Her expression was pinched.
“It’s obvious he’s going to murder me too,” I said. “Please stop him. Did you know anything about the murder?”
“Only after he did it,” she said. “Killian, two murders is too much!”
“I don’t like it any more than you do, Mildred, but I don’t have a choice,” he said. “Surely you understand that?”
I looked at her hopefully, but to my dismay, she said, “Killian, I know you’re right, but I just don’t like it. You’ll have to make it look like an accident,” she added, “or people will connect the murders. If the police really do suspect Agnes Jasper as Ethelbert’s murder, they certainly won’t suspect she killed her niece too. You have to make it look like an accident,” she said again.
Killian scratched his head with his free hand. “How can I make it look like an accident?” he said. “That will be hard.”
Mrs Mumbles crossed her hands over her chest. “It’s a pity you didn’t make Ethelbert’s death look like an accident.”
Killian was still muttering to himself. “An accident, an accident?” he repeated. “That’s too hard.”
Come on Aunt Agnes, hurry up, I thought. Surely Aunt Agnes didn’t think I was still rolling around the ground clutching my cramped leg? Was she out there right now wondering what to do? I hoped she had called Lucas.
“I’ll have to deal with her right now,” Killian said. “Mildred, bring the car as close as you can to the caravan door.”
“No one can see anything down here,” she protested.
“We can’t take any chances.”
She nodded and headed out the door. I held my breath, hoping she would go for help, but that was not to be the case. Minutes later she opened the door. “I can’t see anyone,” she said. “Hurry!”
“Get me some cord,” he said, “so she doesn’t try anything funny.” Killian took my phone from my pocket and turned it off. He put it back in his pocket. “I’ll have to dispose of this when I dispose of her,” he said.
Mrs Mumbles hurried outside and then returned with some black twine. Killian tied it around my wrists. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to the car. I hoped someone would see me driving away, but to my dismay I saw it was a commercial van used in the nursery business. Mrs Mumbles opened the back door of the van and he pushed me inside. He tied me to a rail that ran along one wall of the van.
“We need something to gag her with in case she calls out,” he said.
“Maybe one of your socks?” Mrs Mumbles offered.
I opened my mouth in shock. “What about this?” he said, picking up a rag. Before Mrs Mumbles could respond, he stuffed it in my mouth.
At first I panicked, feeling that I couldn’t breathe. After I breathed in and out a few times through my nose I grew a little more settled. Surely someone would rescue me? Surely, it couldn’t all end like this.
And where was he taking me? I had no doubt Aunt Agnes would come looking for me. She would realise what had happened and hopefully interrogate Mrs Mumbles, forcing her to talk. But would it be too late?
The car started and then drove off quickly. He went around bends so violently, I would have been flung to the floor had my hands not been tied to the rail. I tried to concentrate. I had to come up with a plan, but what? I thought of my vampire speed. If he let me go, even for an instant, I could get away from him. That thought cheered me up a little. At least there was some glimmer of hope, no matter how small.
Killian drove for what seemed like fifteen minutes, although it could have been anything. I was unable to judge the time.
I had no idea where he would take me, but I didn’t want to think about that. Cold fear washed over me again and again in waves.
As he opened the door, a bout of nausea hit me.
Killian didn’t come to the car for some time and I figured he was looking around for witnesses. He didn’t have a gun, so did he intend to strangle me? I was terrified.
Killian charged into the van and untied me from the rail. Unfortunately, he kept a vice-like grip on my arm so I was unable to use my vampire speed to sprint away.
The rag had fallen out of my mouth. Killian picked it up but didn’t stuff it back in my mouth.
“Mrs Mumbles said you were supposed to make it look like an accident,” I said in a small voice.
“I am,” he said. “I’m going to make it look like you were hiking and fell off the cliff.”
“No one will ever believe that,” I said, hoping I could get in front of him. “I don’t go hiking.” I hoped I would get the opportunity to knee him hard in the unmentionables.
“It’s the best I can do under the circumstances,” he said. “You women, always complaining. I’d like to see you do better murdering someone!”
He dragged me close to the cliff edge. I could hear the waves smashing on the rocks below. A few more steps and it would al
l be over.
I looked around wildly. There was no sign of anyone, Lucas or Aunt Agnes. No one was coming to my aid. Killian dragged me behind some bushes and made me crouch down. “What are you doing?” I said before he stuffed the rag back in my mouth once more.
“Hiding obviously, you idiot,” he said. “I thought I was followed here, so I’m just making sure.”
Sure enough, I heard a car pull up, but I wasn’t able to see who it was from my position.
I heard footsteps walking towards us until they were right over the bush. “I can see you,” a voice whispered. I felt Killian tense beside me, but he did not respond.
“I can see you,” the voice said again.
Killian stood up, still clutching my arm.
There was Alec Aldon.
I couldn’t have been more shocked.
“Let the girl go,” Alec said.
Killian laughed. “What are you going to do about it, old man?”
Alec continued to look at him and manoeuvred closer to the cliff edge, placing himself between us and the sheer drop.
“What’s it to you?” Killian said.
“I have a vested interest in her safety,” Alec whispered.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t quite hear you,” Killian said. To me he said, “I’ll deal with you next.” With that, he pushed me hard to one side and made a lunge for Alec. Alec jumped out the way with what could only be vampire speed, and Killian flew over the cliff.
Alec glided over to me and took the rag out of my mouth, and then produced a small knife and cut the twine.
I gasped. “Is he dead?” I squeaked.
Alec looked over the edge. “I’m afraid so,” he whispered. “Don’t look, Miss Jasper. It will upset you.” He turned to me. “I have a confession to make.”
I was still too shocked to take anything in. This was all surreal. I clutched my head with both hands in an attempt to stop it spinning.
“I’m secretly working for the Council,” he said. “I was keeping an eye on Beckett Maxwell to protect him.” He pulled a white linen handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his eyes. “Alas, I fell down on that job. I’m protecting you and your aunts, and your parents too.”
I gasped. “My parents?” I said.
