Murder by the Minster

by Helen Cox

  ‘Just you wait a minute,’ said Kitt. If she was wrong she was sure to get the sack for this, but she couldn’t take the chance of letting the killer get away. Or even an accomplice. ‘I oversee this floor of the library and I insist on knowing if something underhand is happening here.’

  ‘Underhand? Underhand?’ Cabbage hopped around on the spot. ‘’Ere, what are you accusing me of?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Kitt said, determined to keep her voice calm. ‘I’m simply waiting for you to explain why you’ve been watching me and my colleague for the past week. It’s unsettling behaviour, and we will have to report it if you can’t explain it.’

  ‘I haven’t been watching you,’ said Cabbage.

  ‘My colleague and I feel otherwise,’ said Kitt.

  Cabbage looked between Kitt and Grace before letting out a deep sigh.

  ‘All right, I have been hanging around in your section of the library.’

  ‘And watching us.’

  ‘Not in the way you think.’

  ‘What do we think?’

  ‘I don’t know, but there’s nothing creepy about it.’

  ‘That, we’ll have to disagree on,’ said Kitt.

  ‘The only reason I kept looking at you is because I was trying to work up the courage to come over and apologize.’

  Kitt crossed her arms. ‘Apologize?’

  ‘I thought about what you said. About voices that aren’t my own.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Yeah. Decided to read a few of the books around here to see what you were talking about. Don’t get me wrong, in the beginning I did it to prove I had a point. That there wasn’t any need for a Women’s Studies section. But . . .’

  Kitt looked at Grace and then back at the man.

  ‘From what I’ve read, I was wrong to be dismissive. I wanted to say sorry, but I was too embarrassed.’

  Kitt frowned. The man seemed genuine, but was it really possible for him to make such a U-turn? She had to find a gap in the logic here. Cabbage had been behaving too suspiciously for the answer to be that simple.

  ‘If you were so embarrassed, why did you keep coming here to read the books? You could have bought them and read them at home?’ Kitt tried.

  ‘They’re bloody expensive them books, you know?’

  ‘Academic works are always more expensive,’ Kitt conceded. ‘So, that’s it?’

  ‘That’s it. I’m sorry. That’s it.’

  Kitt could not remember a time in all her experience as a librarian where a rude student had gone out of their way to reassess their attitude towards her. Fair enough, in this instance the man had hoped to corroborate his narrow-minded views, but when that turned out to be fruitless, he had educated himself further and had even tried to push himself to apologize. Few people would go to those lengths in the same circumstances. The best thing she could do now was to try and encourage him to open his mind further.

  ‘Were you enjoying the Naomi Wolf?’

  ‘It was . . . enlightening, you might say.’

  Kitt picked up the book from where the man had shoved it just a minute before. ‘Let me check this out for you, sir; do you have your library card?’

  The man smiled and followed Kitt over to her desk.

  ‘Pleased to meet you . . . Vincent Clarke,’ Kitt said, reading the name off the library card when he handed it over. She scanned his card and then the barcode inside the book. ‘My name is Kitt, this is Grace. If you have any questions you think we can help with, don’t ever feel like you can’t ask.’

  Grace smiled at Vincent. He looked between the two women, his eyes shining. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It’s entirely my pleasure,’ said Kitt.

  With that, Vincent headed towards the spiral staircase, waving the book in the air as he went in what Kitt read as a gesture of thanks.

  The second he was out of earshot Grace started giggling.

  Kitt raised an eyebrow at her assistant and put a hand on her hip.

  ‘That was hysterical.’

  ‘I don’t see why.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ said Grace. In a split second, Grace had swiped Kitt’s trilby off her desk and placed it on her own head. She stood a little straighter and stretched out her arm, pointing at a space to her left. ‘You’ve been lurking here too long, you murderer!’ Then, hopping into the space and looking back at where she had been standing just a second ago, she removed the hat and raised her arms in mock surrender. ‘Sorry, missis, I just wanted to read feminist literature.’ Hopping back into her previous position, she placed the hat on her head again and outstretched her arm once more, booming, ‘Reading feminist literature, in the Women’s Studies section? A likely story.’

  ‘Grace!’ Kitt said in a tone stern enough to stop her assistant’s uninvited skit. ‘That’s not how it happened.’

  ‘No, but that’s how I’m going to tell it.’

  ‘Isn’t it time for you to be off?’

  ‘Yeah, and as always I could rely on you to brighten up an otherwise dull day.’

  ‘Be off, and get home safe,’ said Kitt, while her assistant pulled on her coat and picked up her rucksack.

  Grace pressed two fingers to the side of her head, dishing out her trademark cheeky salute, before putting her earbuds in and heading towards the stairs.

  Once she was sure Grace had disappeared from view, Kitt pulled her phone out of her satchel. She wouldn’t check it again until she got home, she told herself. But she would take a quick look now, just in case.

  Still no messages in her inbox.

  It was conspicuous. Not so much that she hadn’t heard from Halloran, though she had heard from him every day since she had said ‘yes’ to helping him on the case. It was more the absence of text messages from Evie. She had been a bit hampered by being taken into police custody this week, but under ordinary circumstances, rarely did a morning or an afternoon pass without some update on the life and times of Evelyn Bowes. The fact she hadn’t texted to find out what had happened between herself and Halloran after they’d dropped her off definitely fell into the ‘out of character’ category.

  No word from the inspector. No word from Evie.

  The last time she had noticed a break in Evie’s text communication was the morning she had found out about Owen’s murder. The morning Halloran and Banks first took her in for questioning. Exactly a week ago today. A heavy feeling settled in Kitt’s stomach. Had the investigation uncovered more evidence that led back to Evie as she had feared it might? If so, would Halloran tell Kitt about it? What if he had been playing her all along? Using her to get information about Evie. He had shown a romantic interest in her, but what if that was just a pretence? There was no particular reason why a man like Halloran would look twice at Kitt. She wasn’t bad-looking, but she could be cold, closed off. The more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed that his advances had been anything other than a play.

  Last night, he had made a show of opening up to her. For all she knew, the sob story about his wife was a work of fiction designed to get her to lower her defences, and, if he had got the information he needed, if he had been able to take Evie into questioning again, that would explain the radio silence.

  Narrowing her eyes, Kitt began searching her contacts for Halloran’s name. She was just about to hit the dial button when she heard about the last thing she had ever expected to hear.

  ‘Hello Kitt-Kat,’ said a deep voice that Kitt couldn’t quite bring herself to believe was part of her own reality. Her whole body tensed as she turned in the direction the voice had come from.

  ‘Theo?’

  Thirty-one

  It was just another dream, or another daydream, Kitt couldn’t quite be sure which right now. But she was dreaming again, about all the things she would say to Theo if he were standing in front of her.

  The mirage
was dressed in a long, brown suede jacket and sandstone trousers. He was wearing glasses and had a leather satchel slung over his shoulder that was, if Kitt had to guess, full of books. Like her, he was a slave to the page. He took another step closer to the enquiry desk. Kitt blinked hard. Twice. The mirage didn’t disappear.

  Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. That didn’t seem right. In all of her other dreams some sharp, witty line tripped off her tongue. The kind of thing the vixen would say in a noir movie from the forties when the love of her life came crawling back after some cruel misdemeanour.

  ‘Sorry to drop by unannounced,’ Theo said, with those lips that Kitt knew to be so soft and kissable, ‘and so late. I did come by earlier, but the staff at the front desk said you were working the later shift.’

  Drop by? Is that what you call reappearing in a person’s life after a ten-year absence? But Kitt still didn’t say anything out loud. She couldn’t. If she did, it would confirm he was really there.

  ‘Well, say something, Kitt-Kat. I’ll even take one of your trademark digs about what I’m wearing,’ Theo pushed.

  Kitt looked around the library. Nobody else was here at this late hour. If this was a hallucination, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to indulge it. Perhaps it would even be cathartic.

  Slowly, Kitt rose from her seat. She swallowed hard and walked around to the front of the desk where the figment of Theo was standing. She looked up into his brown eyes, searching for words, but there weren’t any words right now – they’d all been devoured by that inner fire that had never quite gone out.

  Without warning, she raised her hand and delivered a sharp slap to his left cheek, only to hop backwards in surprise when her palm made contact with actual skin and bone.

  ‘Oh good God!’ Kitt cried, drawing a hand to her mouth and shaking her head.

  Theo moaned, cowering for a second and then, on realizing another slap wasn’t soon to follow, glared at Kitt and started to massage his face to relieve the sting.

  ‘You’re . . .’ said Kitt. ‘I didn’t think you were . . . I didn’t mean to do that, I . . .’ Kitt trailed off. She had been about to say sorry, but could not push an apology past her teeth, not a sincere one at any rate.

  The hardness about Theo’s stare began to soften and a boyish smirk crossed his lips. ‘If this is the effect surprise has on you, I’m glad I never threw you a birthday party without your knowing.’

  A small part of Kitt wanted to join in with Theo’s joke, to be easy with him again. But those familiar flames seared in her chest and, though tears threatened in her eyes, there wasn’t enough water in them to put the fire out. He was trying to make this into a joke, just like he had done everything else when they were together. If Kitt was honest with herself that had been part of Theo’s charm: how much he made her laugh. So many other couples they had known at the time were sullen. Say what you want about Kitt and Theo circa 2008, but they could never be accused of that.

  Right now, however, Kitt didn’t want Theo the clown. There was nothing funny about him showing up like this, and it was that truth that allowed Kitt to find her tongue again.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ There was no point pretending that she had any time for pleasantries. With everything that was going on with the murder case just now this was the last thing she needed.

  ‘I wanted to see you. I mean, I wanted to see if you were OK.’ He was looking at the ground, but slowly brought his dark eyes up to meet Kitt’s.

  ‘A strange thing to suddenly take an interest in after ten years,’ Kitt said with an unmistakable dryness in her tone.

  ‘Please,’ Theo said, ‘don’t be like that. I saw this clip of you on the news, you know, about the murder, and then when I saw you had looked at my profile I thought you wanted to reach out but didn’t feel like you could.’

  Kitt shook her head. ‘Well, you were wrong, I wasn’t trying to reach out.’

  ‘All right then, what were you doing?’

  ‘I— I don’t know. Checking you were still alive, I suppose,’ said Kitt.

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you on that score,’ said Theo. Another smirk threatened at the corners of his mouth, but Kitt’s glare stopped it in its tracks.

  ‘Now that you’ve seen I’m OK, you can leave,’ said Kitt.

  ‘What? That’s it?’ said Theo.

  ‘What were you expecting?’ asked Kitt.

  ‘I don’t know, I . . .’ Theo trailed off and ruffled his short brown hair. ‘Thought we might get a drink, or something.’

  ‘A drink?’ Kitt said. ‘Why? We’re not friends or anything. We’re strangers.’

  ‘I know you don’t really believe that,’ said Theo.

  Kitt crossed her arms, but didn’t say anything.

  ‘You know,’ Theo said, taking a step closer to Kitt, ‘I never stopped thinking about you.’

  ‘Oh, please,’ said Kitt. ‘If that’s true then why didn’t you get in touch?’

  ‘Because I didn’t think you’d want to see me after . . .’

  ‘You vanished without a trace?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Theo. ‘But I have thought about you, a lot, and I’ve regretted what happened. I really have.’

  Kitt smiled. Theo no longer knew Kitt well enough to notice, but it was a dangerous smile. ‘I’ve thought about you a lot too.’

  ‘You have?’ said Theo.

  ‘Oh yes, I’ve thought to myself, why would somebody do something like that? Especially to somebody who loved them. Why? Over and over again.’

  Theo sighed. ‘You’re right, I owe you an explanation.’

  ‘Owe me?’ Kitt said, her voice rising in volume. ‘This isn’t about what you owe me. It’s about what I deserve. I didn’t deserve what you did.’

  But for a long time, I thought I did, she thought. Theo had made her believe it. That she was . . .

  ‘I know that, and I am sorry,’ said Theo. ‘The way I ended things was . . . unforgivable. But the truth is, I was young and an idiot and I just got scared. You know, you were pretty intense, Kitt, and at the time I just didn’t know how to handle that. I’ve tried to forget about what happened with us for a decade. But when I saw you in that news clip, when I saw the woman you’d grown into, it hit me like a train. Nobody has ever loved me the way you did, and whether it’s too late or not, I wanted you to know that I regret letting you go.’

  Kitt thought about slapping Theo’s face a second time. Not just because it would be satisfying, but because she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Six months, a year, hell, three years after Theo had vanished she would have given anything to hear him saying the things he was saying now. But on hearing them, one thought struck her like a knife to the gut: she didn’t want to hear them any more. Whatever love she’d had in her heart for Theo was long gone. She hadn’t shied away from relationships all this time because she still loved Theo, she had stayed single to protect herself, to make sure nobody could ever hurt her that way again.

  Kitt looked straight at Theo and spoke in a low voice, the coolness of which surprised her. ‘Do you have any idea what it did to me when you left like that?’

  ‘Kitt-Kat . . .’

  ‘Don’t call me that. It’s not my name,’ Kitt said. A silence mushroomed between them. Kitt could see the pain in Theo’s eyes and that cut her deeper than she’d like, but he had to understand that there were consequences for turning his back on people. ‘Thank you for coming. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to say what I’ve wanted to say for ten years . . . goodbye, Theo.’

  Kitt watched Theo’s head lower, and then he raised it again. Finally, after a decade, he was able to look her in the eye and say what he should have said back then. ‘Goodbye, Kitt. If you ever, well . . . I’m not far away if you ever need me.’

  Kitt crossed her arms, holding in her breath and so much els
e. Theo began walking towards the staircase. Kitt’s eyes followed after him and in doing so, she saw Halloran. They didn’t speak, but he and Theo eyed each other as they passed. Kitt had no idea how long Halloran had been standing there, but seeing as their conversation was none of Halloran’s business, she did her best to act as casual as possible.

  ‘Inspector Halloran, what brings you to the library at this hour?’ Kitt said as he walked towards her.

  ‘I tried calling, but you weren’t picking up,’ said Halloran.

  Kitt watched as Theo’s head disappeared down the spiral staircase, knowing that was the last glimpse she would ever have of him.

  ‘Kitt?’ Halloran prompted.

  ‘Oh, while I’m at work, my phone’s on vibrate. But I’m done here now. Just packing up.’ This wasn’t true. Strictly speaking, Kitt was due to be in the building another half hour, but she needed to go home and scream into a pillow as a matter of urgency. She would make the extra time up tomorrow, when an ex-lover hadn’t just walked back into her life again and tried to beg her back into his arms.

  ‘Oh, well, I wanted to let you know we’ve had a major break on the case,’ said Halloran. He was puffing his chest out and beaming in a way Kitt just didn’t have the stomach for at present.

  ‘Really,’ Kitt said, trying to sound interested as she threw her notebook, pen and keys into her bag. She was, in fact, very interested, but the fire in her chest felt more like magma right now, and she was keen to get somewhere isolated before the inevitable eruption.

  ‘Yes,’ said Halloran, his tone flattening a little bit on seeing Kitt’s distracted manner. ‘In fact, I think we’ve caught our murderer.’

  Kitt was pulling on her coat as those words left the detective’s mouth, and she paused to look at him. She opened her mouth with the intention of making a sincere and helpful comment, but somehow that was not what came out. ‘Who do we think it is today? If you still think it’s me and you’re here to arrest me again, I won’t be best pleased.’

  Halloran tilted his head. ‘That’s a bit unfair.’ It wouldn’t have taken a detective to see that there was something off about Kitt’s manner. ‘Are you all right?’