A Plummet in the Polls

by Alana Ling

  ‘Okay, but I still think we need to interview Harold as well.’

  I slammed my hand on the table, making her jump.

  ‘I told you, Harold would never do this.’

  ‘I know. I know he’s your godfather, but he might tell us something that will give us a clue.’

  ‘I don’t want to make him think we’re suspecting him,’ I said.

  ‘But we’re not. He hired us, for crying out loud. If he’d done it, it’d be pretty creepy to have hired us to investigate. But we need to know if he saw anything suspicious. He’s the party leader and mayor of this town. He should know something.’

  ‘I’ll think about it. Until then, let’s pay a visit to Ms. Green.’

  Eleven

  We first tried City Hall, but the receptionist told us Arthur’s secretary was on leave after the incident. With a bribe of cookies and a little white lie we got an address for her, so we visited the east side of Haven-on-Sea and parked outside the block of flats she resided in.

  We climbed two flights of stairs and found 3D to knock on. A petite woman with a French fringe and dark hair that tasted of burger opened the door. She looked in her early twenties and couldn’t have been older than Sam. Her skin was pale and her face was dotted with freckles.

  ‘Ms. Green?’ I asked.

  ‘How can I help?’ she asked, leaning on her door.

  ‘We worked on the gala. We were there the day Mr. Foster…passed. We were wondering if we could talk to you,’ I said.

  ‘Why? I already spoke to the police.’

  Sam lowered her head. ‘We know. We are trying to help them. You see, an innocent man is being accused and we’re trying to find out the truth.’

  ‘Who?’ she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  ‘We can’t say, unfortunately. To protect him, you understand. Can we? Talk to you about Arthur?’ I asked, making to go inside her house.

  She didn’t budge.

  ‘We can talk here,’ she said.

  ‘Sure,’ I gulped. ‘Of course.’

  We stared at each other and I could see Sam’s eyes darting from me to Rebecca Green.

  ‘So?’ Ms. Green broke the silence.

  I rattled my brains. ‘Uhm, yeah, uhm, did you see anything on the night? Anything suspicious?’

  ‘If you mean anything other than the dead body of my ex-boss, no,’ she said, bluntly.

  ‘Right,’ I replied. ‘And where were you when Arthur disappeared?’

  ‘With my girlfriends.’

  ‘And they would be…’ Sam said.

  ‘Roberta and Cilia.’

  I nodded. ‘Do they—do they work at City Hall?’

  ‘Yes, in reception,’ she said.

  ‘Right, right,’ I chuckled. I know if I was a friend I wouldn’t have given her address away in exchange for some cake, but oh well.

  Rebecca didn’t flinch.

  It was like trying to get blood out of a stone.

  ‘Do you know if anyone disliked Arthur enough to hurt him?’ I asked.

  I heard a purr and Rebecca looked inside her flat. Then back at us.

  ‘Everyone hated him,’ she said simply.

  ‘When you say everyone?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Everyone. Mayor, secretaries, MPs. Everyone. No one liked him.’

  ‘Why do you think that was?’ I asked.

  ‘He was a pig, that’s why. He had outdated beliefs and rubbed people the wrong way.’

  I kissed my teeth and squeezed my hands. I hadn’t felt this uncomfortable in the presence of someone since high school.

  ‘If you thought he was a pig, why did you work for him?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Do you like her?’ Rebecca asked her and nodded towards me.

  ‘I do. Best boss I’ve ever worked for,’ Sam replied. She smiled at me. I frowned at her.

  ‘Well, you’re lucky, aren’t you? And to answer your question, he was going to be mayor. So, I bit my tongue and succumbed to his idiotic lack of charm until he did so I could say I’d worked for the mayor.’

  I flinched. ‘Wasn’t Nina going to be his new secretary?’

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. ‘No, Arthur would never work with someone like her.’

  ‘Nina is an amazing girl,’ I said.

  ‘I know, smartass. I’m just telling you how Arthur felt,’ she said. ‘Is that all? I’m bored now. I’ve got to feed my cat before she tears my couch.’

  She started to close the door, but I put my hand on it. ‘One more thing.’

  She stopped and glared at me.

  ‘Did you notice anything strange with Arthur lately? Any meetings or phone calls? Any letters? Anything at all?’ I asked.

  Her glared turned into thought. Then she took a breath. ‘There was that one time. I don’t know how important it is, but it was weird.’

  ‘What did you see?’ Sam said.

  Rebecca looked back inside her house and shushed her cat.

  ‘I saw Tatiana coming out of Arthur’s office late one night. She looked genuinely upset. She was crying when she came out.’

  I looked at Sam. Why did they always leave the important stuff for the end?

  ‘Who is Tatiana?’ Sam and I asked at the same time.

  ‘One of the cleaners. She’s been working at City Hall for a year now, but everyone loves her,’ she said. ‘Can I go now?’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ I told her and she shut the door.

  ‘Tatiana,’ Sam mumbled. ‘She might be the key.’

  We made a stop at Bean Therapy to refuel and make a phone call. On the third tone, Harold picked up.

  ‘Hi, Joanna. Do you have an update?’ he asked.

  ‘Maybe. Not sure yet, Harold. But I do need something from you. I’m looking for one of the cleaners that works at City Hall. Her name is Tatiana.’

  Harold paused. ‘Uh, I don’t know her. Sounds foreign, doesn’t she? No, doesn’t ring a bell. But we’ve got a cleaning company that sends the cleaners.’

  ‘Do you have their name and number?’ I asked.

  I heard a shuffle on the other end of the line and a few drawers being opened and closed. ‘Sure, it’s here somewhere. Hang on a minute, Joanna darling,’ he said and then I heard a muted Harold shout to Althea, asking her about his diary. A few minutes later he returned with an address and a name. ‘Spotless Incorporated.’

  ‘Got it,’ I said.

  We filled up our to-go cups and walked all the way up Elms Grove, turned left on Oakhill Circus and turned left again onto Haven High Street. After a quick browse of the street numbers, we found number seventy-one and rang the bell. We were buzzed in shortly after and we took the narrow stairs to the first floor where the office was.

  A young man with a long fringe greeted us, pausing his incessant typing on his computer long enough to acknowledge us. He even tasted of soggy crisps, which dried up my mouth real quick.

  ‘Welcome to Spotless Incorporated, ladies. How may I help you?’ he asked and carried on typing on the keyboard.

  ‘I—we,’ I started, but the typing was louder than my thoughts and I stopped.

  He turned his head back to us, not stopping, and intensified his smile. ‘Yes?’

  ‘We are looking for Tatiana,’ Sam said for me.

  He turned back to the monitor, grabbed the mouse and clickity-clackited, not paying us any mind.

  ‘Tatiana is off today, I’m afraid,’ he said, turning to us.

  ‘Do you know where she lives? Like an address or something?’ Sam asked.

  ‘I’m afraid we cannot give that information, miss. That is private and confidential,’ he answered and resumed his typing.

  I reached across the desk and grabbed his wrist. ‘I’m sorry, could you—not do that while you’re talking to us.’

  He stared at my hand on his and then side-eyed me. ‘I’m sorry. I’m trying to finish that book I’ve been working on.’

  ‘It’s rude,’ I said and removed my hand when a thought occurred to me. ‘In fact, I’m appalled by this ser
vice. Is there a manager around? I’d like to complain about your customer service skills.’

  The man pouted and withdrew his fingers from the keyboard. He looked at the corridor behind us.

  ‘I apologise. I’m really sorry I’ve made you feel disrespected,’ he muttered.

  ‘Disrespected? Try disgusted, revolted and offended,’ I made to stand up and raised my voice ever so slightly. I did not want to be heard after all. ‘Where is the manager? Is there anyone in here that will take us seriously?’

  ‘Keep it down, miss. Please,’ the secretary said, standing up. He glanced behind us and his eyes kept fleeting from us to the back of the office.

  ‘Is there a complaints department? Can I have their email? This is an absolute joke. Not only are you not getting me your manager, you’re trying to silence me as well.’

  ‘Please, miss,’ he repeated. ‘Keep it down, will you? I apologised, what more do you want?’

  ‘For you to do your job right? For you to respect potential customers? For a manager so I can express my disappointment with how we’ve been treated today.’

  Sam stood and started walking towards the back.

  ‘Excuse me, you can’t go there,’ the guy told her.

  She huffed. ‘Well, try and stop me. We want to complain.’

  He ran after Sam and stopped in front of her. ‘Are you ladies trying to get me fired?’

  ‘Well,’ Sam started.

  ‘If that’s what it takes to be treated with respect here,’ I added.

  ‘Stop, please,’ he begged. ‘This job is boring, okay. I’m trying to finish my book when the phones are quieter. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Please stop.’

  ‘And what’s in it for us?’ Sam asked.

  ‘What do you mean? What’s in it for you if I lose my job?’

  ‘A more deserving person will get the job of course.’ I chuckled.

  ‘Please don’t do this. I’ll do anything,’ he begged.

  I looked at Sam and she looked at me. ‘Anything?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘We just want Tatiana’s address?’ I said.

  Forty minutes later we were standing outside her front door, which was a quaint little maisonette along the coast at the end of town. The car park was empty and there was no answer from the door, even on the fourth ring of the bell.

  ‘Joanna! Fancy bumping into you here,’ I heard behind me and turned to see Daniel. He was wearing an amused smirk, both his hands in his trouser pockets.

  ‘Daniel! I see no lackey today.’

  He exhaled. ‘He’s not my lackey, Jo. He’s my partner. Ms. Tully,’ he greeted Sam.

  She crossed her arms and didn’t greet him back.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

  ‘Looking for the same person you are, I suppose. I wouldn’t know. I’m just going in blind,’ I said.

  He pulled a face and nodded. ‘I deserved that. Any luck?’

  ‘Why don’t you try for yourself?’ Sam told him.

  ‘Don’t need to. I’ll see you later, ladies,’ he said and tipped his non-existent hat to us.

  ‘Not even an apology?’ I huffed.

  ‘Don’t dwell on him. Tatiana’s not home. What do we do now?’

  ‘We’ll try again tomorrow,’ I said, staring at Daniel driving off in his car.

  Twelve

  I drove us back to the town centre and dropped Sam off at her home. Then I set off for my house, but as I passed Caverley Crescent I realised I hadn’t heard from Effie since before the gala.

  I made a U-turn and stopped outside ‘A Stroke of Art,’ Mum’s shop. As I headed for the door I noticed the window display had changed for the first time in five years. My father’s painting of the Haven coast was still there and so was Mum’s crochet replica. In addition to those was another portrait, an amateur painting of a woman, and a table of mini crochet animals. I scratched my head and pushed the door to get into the shop.

  Mum was at the front, serving an elderly man who tasted of plain vinegar.

  Her hair was now green and so were her spectacles, contrasted by her purple lipstick. She threw me a glance and smiled while she finished up with her customer.

  I browsed the shop that Mum had started only a few years before Dad’s passing. This place had become Mum’s hope and soul since Dad’s passing. I wasn’t surprised her network of friends had grown significantly.

  As I browsed the knitting needles section and went on to the wool section, my glance fell on a frame hanging on the wall.

  It was beige and blue. Splashes of colours interspersed with abstract shading made up the figure of a woman. The naked figure of a woman with blue hair.

  I realised I was looking at a nude painting of Mum’s.

  Horrified, I shielded my eyes away from the canvas and retreated to the back of the shop where Effie’s office was.

  She appeared only moments later, her chocolate marble cake seeping into my taste buds.

  ‘You’ve got a nude on your wall,’ I said to her.

  She crossed her fingers under her chin and smiled. ‘I know. Isn’t it marvellous? Coffee?’

  I nodded and Mum turned to her ibrik and proceeded to make our customary drink.

  ‘How’s Althea? Have you spoken to her?’

  ‘Oh,’ Mum chirped. ‘It’s so horrible. How can Daniel blame Harold for what happened to that idiot?’

  ‘It’s not Daniel’s fault, Mum. He’s doing his job.’ I reasoned with her, despite my personal feelings on the case.

  ‘I don’t care. He should be ashamed. Harold has done great things for this town.’

  ‘I know,’ I said and she passed me my cup of Greek coffee.

  ‘See, I told you there’s a black cloud over your head. What I didn’t see is it hanging over all our heads,’ she said, taking a seat opposite me. ‘You didn’t bring any cake,’ she added, eyeing the empty space around me.

  ‘I’ve been busy.’

  ‘So how is the investigation going? Any news?’

  ‘He told you?’ I said, choking on my drink.

  ‘Althea did. Of course. Why wouldn’t she? She’s my best friend and your godmother.’

  ‘No, Mum, what I meant is I’m shocked you haven’t called me in two days considering you know. Weren’t you the one that gave me an hour’s worth of tirade when I was looking into Poppy’s murder?’

  Mum waved away. ‘Don’t be silly, my baby. I knew you’d be busy trying to get the real murderer. And this one’s important.’

  I couldn’t decide if I was excited she was trusting me with something so crucial, or offended by the notion that Poppy’s demise wasn’t equally important. I decided to stick to excitement.

  Who knew how it long this would last?

  I entered the Oak Tavern and sat at the bar. Jamie came to stand in front of me with my favourite drink after a long day. Gin on ice with a slice of lime and a drop of tonic. The sparkling drink’s gas tickled my nose as he placed it in my hands and leaned forward.

  ‘You don’t look that great, pal,’ he said. My stomach groaned, reminded by his baked camembert, rosemary and maple syrup flavours that I hadn’t eaten any proper food yet.

  His beady brown eyes glowed in the candlelit pub.

  ‘I’m not,’ I answered.

  ‘What happened?’

  I quenched my thirst with my drink and ordered another one. It wasn’t going to last long. ‘Where do I even start?’

  He huffed and put his head on his hands, which were settled next to me on the bar.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ he said. ‘This day just won’t end.’

  My eyes narrowed as I leaned in closer and asked him what had happened.

  ‘Alice quit. And one of the chefs didn’t turn up. It was his second week. And so, Kit has been working in the kitchen all day. Mind, we still haven’t got a head chef and more staff is going back to uni soon. I’m already dreading winter.’

  I petted his curly hair and gave him m
y best puppy eyes. Haven-on-Sea might only be a small town, but tourism alone brought eighty per cent of our revenue. And while most coastal towns were heaving during the summer, Haven had a never-ending trade of travellers stopping by for one of our festivals and funfairs or our winter bazaar, which had won awards for being the best Christmas fair in the world in 2015 and 2016.

  The Oak was one of the town’s main attractions, with its position right near the coast and the pier, so Jamie wasn’t being dramatic, which was a common occurrence anyway, but realistic. He’d been working at the Oak full-time for the last seven years and even longer before that, in-between school, university and life.

  ‘It’s okay, Jamie. Kit will figure it out.’

  He pushed himself off the bar. ‘That’s just it. I need some holidays. I’ve not been anywhere for the whole year and it’s July for crying out loud. I need some time off to physically recuperate and mentally prepare for crazy season.’

  ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you took off for a week or two. Just ask him.’

  ‘Aren’t you listening? I can’t,’ he said. ‘We’re already down two people and a third one next week.’

  ‘Kit is a grown man. He’s been a manager for years. I’m sure he’ll manage whatever life throws his way.’ I stared at my drink. ‘Besides, he will need all his best people energised and ready to face the busy winter time, so you’d be doing him a favour if you took some time off.’

  I pointed to my glass, which was in need of a refill, and he responded to my call.

  ‘Spain or Turkey?’ he said and hummed, passing me a third drink.

  ‘I see you’ve made up your mind already.’

  He shrugged and flashed me his white teeth. ‘What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good pep talk. What’s up with you, anyway?’

  I kissed my teeth and took a sip of the gin, decided it was sickness waiting to happen and pushed it back to Jamie. ‘Do I need more than the murder of the month newsletter?’

  Jamie grimaced. ‘Not much luck then?’

  ‘What do you think?’