Cars and Cold Cases

by Diana Xarissa

  Fenella shook her head. “He also said he hadn’t actually seen anything, so maybe there isn’t any letter to find.”

  “Also a possibility,” Daniel said.

  “Did you find him yesterday after I called you?” Fenella asked.

  Daniel shook his head. “The constable on duty in Douglas had a look around for him, but didn’t find him in any of his usual places. I had someone check his house three or four times last night, but he was never home. I didn’t think it was urgent, but I should have tried a lot harder.”

  “You can’t blame yourself,” Fenella said, hearing the frustration in the man’s tone. “He probably didn’t know anything, anyway.”

  “He must have known who was buying his food and supplying him with alcohol,” Daniel said. “Someone was also paying for a cleaning service that came in once a week.”

  “That’s odd,” Fenella said. “I suppose I can see keeping him in food and drink, but a cleaning service?”

  “We’re checking into it,” Daniel said. “Someone was paying the bill. I can’t believe they’ve been paying in cash for the last thirty years.”

  “The cleaners didn’t clean his bedroom?”

  Daniel hesitated and then nodded. “They had strict instructions to stay out of his bedroom,” he said. “I’ve spoken to the woman who has cleaned his house for about ten years now. She said that when she started she did the whole house. In the last few years, though, Roger had become increasingly secretive. He moved a lot of his personal possessions into the bedroom and told her not to go in there.”

  “But she doesn’t know who was paying the bill?”

  “No. The company that employs her is actually owned by a company in Manchester. Someone there is meant to be going through the records to see who has been paying for that particular account.”

  Fenella sighed. “I tried to warn him,” she said. “I told him he should go to the police.”

  “And I tried to find him,” Daniel said. “There’s no point in either of us feeling guilty.”

  “I know, but I still do,” Fenella said. “I should have followed him and called you as I walked, or something.”

  “I doubt it would have made any difference. I doubt he would have answered my questions, and I couldn’t have held him for long. If the killer was determined to kill him, he or she would have just waited until Roger was out.”

  “But maybe Roger did know something,” Fenella said. “I should have pushed him harder.”

  “You would have been wasting your time. If he did know something, he wasn’t about to share it with anyone and risk cutting off his support.”

  “I suppose.” Fenella got up and walked around the room. “I’m just angry and upset,” she told Daniel. “The man was a drunk and a blackmailer, but he didn’t deserve to die.”

  “No one deserves to be murdered,” Daniel said. “But all I can do now is try to work out who killed him and get that person put away.”

  “I wish I could help,” Fenella told him.

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d take me back through your conversation with the man,” Daniel said. “I want to make sure I have every little detail.”

  Fenella did her best to remember, but she wasn’t sure how well she’d done when she’d finished. “I hope that’s most of it, anyway,” she told Daniel. “I wish I had a better memory.”

  “I appreciate you taking the time to go through it with me again,” Daniel said. “Now I think I should go and help the constables with their search. If Roger did leave a note, we might just be able to wrap up two murders in short order.”

  “I hope he did,” Fenella said as she walked the man to the door.

  “It would be too easy,” Daniel replied. “But it would be nice.”

  Fenella shut the door behind him and leaned against it for a short while, just focusing on breathing. She felt sad and guilty and angry all at the same time.

  “You did everything you could have done,” Mona said in a sympathetic voice.

  “I should have dragged him to see Daniel,” Fenella replied.

  “He wouldn’t have told Daniel anything, even if you did manage to get him to the police station. And I doubt you would have managed it.”

  Fenella shrugged. “I should have tried.”

  “You did your best,” Mona said firmly. “Now you need to think about something else.”

  “I’m too upset to think,” Fenella replied.

  “Go visit Shelly,” Mona suggested. “She’ll cheer you up.”

  Fenella hated the thought of dropping in on her friend uninvited, but after pacing around her apartment for twenty minutes, which annoyed both Mona and Katie, she finally decided to follow her aunt’s advice.

  “Fenella? But what’s wrong?” Shelly asked as soon as she saw Fenella’s face.

  It only took Fenella a few minutes to tell Shelly the whole story. Once she was finished, Shelly pulled her into her apartment and sat her down in her comfortable living room. Smokey, Shelly’s cat, came over to investigate.

  “Now, you play with Smokey while I do some baking,” Shelly said. “You need chocolate. Let me think, I suppose chocolate chunk cookies would work. How does that sound?”

  “Perfect,” Fenella replied, snuggling Smokey, who rubbed her head against Fenella’s and purred softly.

  Half an hour later, Fenella was covered in cat hair, and the first tray of cookies was coming out of the oven.

  “Here we are,” Shelly said. “Cookies and milk.”

  Fenella joined her friend in the kitchen and eagerly accepted a plate of warm cookies and a glass of cold milk. When they were both empty, she felt much better.

  “Thank you so much,” she said to Shelly, putting the plate and glass down and giving the woman a hug. “I was feeling so out of sorts that I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” Shelly told her. “Are you really feeling better?”

  “Yes, much, thanks,” Fenella said. “What about the pub later, though?”

  Shelly blushed. “I sort of have a, well, I’m going, that is, I’m meant to be having dinner with Gordon tonight.”

  “You have a date?” Fenella asked. “How wonderful for you.”

  “It isn’t a date,” Shelly said firmly. “I’m not ready to start dating again. But Gordon and I are old friends and he was kind enough to invite me to dinner, that’s all.”

  “What are you going to wear?” Fenella asked.

  “I don’t know,” Shelly wailed. “I don’t think I have anything appropriate.”

  “We should go shopping.”

  Shelly glanced at the clock. “There isn’t time,” she said. “Come and help me find something in my wardrobe.”

  An hour later the pair finally found the perfect outfit in the back of Shelly’s wardrobe. She slipped on the simple black skirt and then added the dark red jumper and studied herself in the mirror. “It isn’t too bad,” she said after a minute.

  “It’s lovely, although much more subdued than what you normally wear,” Fenella said.

  “But that feels appropriate for tonight,” Shelly said. “Maybe I’m just feeling shy, but I don’t want to be too loud.”

  “You shouldn’t feel shy,” Fenella said. “It’s up to you to decide whether you’re ready to date again or not. And if you aren’t, that doesn’t mean you can’t have dinner with an attractive man anyway.”

  Shelly smiled. “I’m sure John would want me to be happy,” she said. “I know he wouldn’t mind my seeing Gordon, but there are people on the island who will gossip about me if I’m seen to be having too much fun before a suitable period of mourning has passed.”

  “Who cares what they think?” Fenella asked.

  “Not me,” Shelly said stoutly. She laughed and then gave Fenella a hug. “I truly don’t feel ready to think about a new romantic relationship,” she told her. “But I’m quite excited about getting to know Gordon better. He seems like a wonderful man.”

  “I just h
ope you have better luck with him than Peter had with Anne,” Fenella said with a laugh.

  “But how was your dinner with Peter last night?” Shelly asked.

  “Oh, it was nice,” Fenella said.

  “Just nice?”

  “Very nice? I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready for a new romance, either,” Fenella said. “I was with Jack for such a long time.”

  “Well, I’m sure Peter will take things slowly for you,” Shelly said. “As will Daniel, from what I’ve seen.”

  “Donald Donaldson keeps calling me as well,” Fenella told her.

  “I wouldn’t count on him taking things slowly,” Shelly said. “But as he isn’t even on the island at the moment, you needn’t worry about him.”

  Fenella smiled. “You make it all sound so easy,” she said.

  “It is easy, when it’s your love life,” Shelly replied.

  They both laughed, and then Fenella helped her friend return the dozens of rejected outfits to their hangers and their places in the wardrobe.

  “I’d better let you get ready,” Fenella said when they were done. “Have fun tonight.”

  “We might drop into the pub for a drink after dinner,” Shelly said. “Gordon’s never been to the Tale and Tail.”

  “Maybe I’ll see you later, then,” Fenella said. “Although you mustn’t feel obligated to come and talk to me if you do come in. You can just sit together and ignore me if you want.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Shelly laughed. “If we come to the pub, we will talk to all of my friends, especially you.”

  Back in her own apartment, Fenella made herself some dinner and then ate it in front of the television. She was of two minds about the pub and was just about to give up on the idea and go to bed when Peter knocked on her door.

  “I know it’s getting late. I was just going to go down for one quick one,” he told her. “Would you like to join me?”

  “Yes, I would,” Fenella said impulsively. She ran a comb through her hair and added a fresh coat of lipstick before following Peter out of her apartment.

  The pub was quiet, and Fenella and Peter settled in on bar stools on the lower level for a change.

  “I love it in here,” Fenella said as she sipped her wine. “I would live in here if they’d let me.”

  “I don’t think the cats would approve,” the bartender told her with a laugh.

  “I suppose they like having the place to themselves sometimes,” Fenella said, looking around at the half-dozen or so cats that were sprawled around the room.

  “Oh, they do,” he replied. “They don’t even like it when we change our hours a little bit here and there. They’re all creatures of habit, our cats.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Fenella said with a grin.

  “I am,” Peter said. “Maybe that’s why I found having Anne around so unsettling. She brought far too much drama into my life.”

  “What was she like as a child?” Fenella asked.

  “Quiet and shy,” Peter said. “I was friends with her because she lived in our neighborhood, but I didn’t spend much time with her once I hit my teens. She never really wanted to do anything except sit at home and watch telly. There wasn’t much to watch in those days, though.”

  Fenella smiled as she remembered her own childhood. They’d had one television in the house, and until she was around ten, it was black and white. It hadn’t mattered all that much, as they’d only been able to receive three channels and very little of what was shown was targeted at children.

  “Her mother made the best cakes, though,” Peter added. “She used to bake cakes for every special occasion that came along, and I think she often made up her own, just so she had an excuse to bake.”

  “Really?”

  “We used to stop at Anne’s house every day after school. Her mum used to bake cakes for every minor royal’s birthday, and for religious holidays for religions that we knew nothing about. She also baked cakes for the birthdays of just about everyone she’d ever known, no matter where they lived or even if they were still alive.”

  “The poor woman must have been bored to tears at home,” Fenella said.

  “Yes, I’m sure she was,” Peter said. “But of course at the time I just enjoyed the cakes.”

  “Good evening, Peter,” Mel interrupted the conversation. “And Ms. Woods. Peter told me you often come in for a drink on an evening. I was hoping to catch you.”

  “Oh, why is that?” Fenella asked the man as he waved to the bartender.

  “I have to cancel tomorrow’s lesson,” Mel said after he’d taken a large drink from his glass of lager. “I’m going to be, um, busy.”

  “I hope everything is okay,” Peter said, sounding concerned.

  “It’s fine,” Mel said with a sigh. “Or rather, it will be. But I need to talk to the police, you see, and that will probably take some time.”

  “Something about Kay?” Peter asked, putting his hand on the other man’s arm.

  “Yes, something about Kay,” Mel sighed again. He finished his drink and waved to the bartender again.

  As the man steadily worked his way through his second pint, Fenella tried to work out how to phrase what she wanted to ask. “Have the police found a new lead, then?” was what she eventually came up with.

  “No, not that I know of,” Mel said. He downed his second drink and caught the bartender’s eye again.

  “Maybe you should slow down a bit,” Peter said as the man behind the bar handed Mel a third drink.

  “Yeah, probably,” Mel said before he swallowed nearly a quarter of his drink.

  “What’s going on?” Peter demanded. “I’ve known you since childhood and I’ve never seen you drink like this.”

  “Except when Kay went,” Mel said. “I drank a lot when Kay went.”

  “Yes, but you had good reason,” Peter said.

  “It didn’t start out to be a big deal,” Mel began. “I didn’t see any harm in keeping quiet. I didn’t think it mattered, really.”

  “What are you talking about?” Peter asked.

  Mel stared at him for a moment and then shrugged. “It’ll all come out soon anyway,” he said with a sigh. “And you’ve known me the longest. I suppose you ought to know first.”

  “We’ve been friends for a long time,” Peter said. “You know you can tell me anything.”

  Mel nodded and then glanced over at Fenella. She did her best to look as if she wasn’t listening, but she doubted she was successful. Mel stared at her for a moment and then shrugged again.

  “Let’s get a table,” Mel suggested. “Upstairs, where no one can overhear us.”

  Fenella tried not to let the words bother her. It was only natural that Mel would want to speak to his friend alone.

  “You can come, too,” Mel said over his shoulder as he and Peter started across the room.

  Jumping off her stool, Fenella followed quickly. She just hoped that by the time Mel was done talking she’d have a better idea of what had happened to Kay.

  The upstairs was all but deserted as the trio reached the top of the spiral stairs. Mel headed for a corner, with Peter and Fenella following. Peter took Fenella’s arm and stopped her.

  “Are you sure you want to hear this?” he whispered to her. “I have no idea what Mel is going to say, but it might not be pleasant.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” Fenella said with more confidence than she felt. “And at least this way he can’t get any more drinks in a hurry.”

  Peter nodded, and the pair joined Mel at the table where he sat, slumped on a couch.

  “Thirty years is a long time,” he told them both after they’d sat down. “If I could rewind time, I’d do everything very differently.”

  “The night Kay disappeared?” Peter asked.

  “Oh, no, before that,” Mel said. “I’d rewind to when Kay told me about the baby.”

  “So there was a baby,” Fenella said.

  “Aye, there was a baby,” Mel sighed. “Or at le
ast, Kay told me there was a baby. I never doubted her. She came to me because she was in trouble and she was hoping I would help her get the money together so that she could get rid of the baby. I offered to marry her instead.”

  “That was very kind of you,” Peter told him.

  “Yeah, that’s me, kind, caring, wonderful,” Mel said bitterly. “I’d been in love with Kay since I was eight years old. She never even noticed me, really, and I can’t say as I blame her. She was gorgeous and smart and she always had half a dozen men chasing after her. I was just the kid from the house down the road.”

  “But she came to you when she found herself in trouble,” Fenella pointed out. “She obviously trusted you.”

  “She was making the rounds,” Mel replied. “She’d already been to see Anne, who was sympathetic but broke. She was going to ask Peter next.”

  “I’d have given her the money,” Peter said. “I never would have thought to marry her.”

  “Well, I did,” Mel said. “I offered, and after a day or two she agreed. We got married only a few weeks later so that when the baby arrived there wouldn’t be too much talk.”

  “I’m sure Kay was grateful,” Fenella said.

  “She was,” Mel agreed. “Until a few days after the wedding. She lost the baby.” He stopped talking and stared down into the last inch of his beer. After a moment, Peter patted him on the back.

  “I wish I’d known about all of this thirty years ago,” he said. “Not that I could have helped, but at least you could have talked about it.”

  “Nothing to talk about, really,” Mel said. “Kay didn’t think I should be upset, as the baby wasn’t mine. She did her best to act like she didn’t care, either, mostly because she didn’t want anyone to know about the baby. We talked about splitting up, but Kay said she wanted to try to make a go of it, and I wasn’t going to argue, was I?”

  “Whenever I saw you two together, you seemed happy,” Peter said.

  “We were working on it, anyway,” Mel said. “We were even talking about trying for a baby of our own before she went. That would have been something wonderful.”