A Plummet in the Polls

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A Plummet in the Polls Page 10

by Alana Ling


  ‘Sounds like my mum.’ I raised my brow.

  ‘I can’t believe I still haven’t met her. And I’ve heard all about her from Jamie. Is she as hands-on as he makes her out to be?’

  I laughed. Loudly. A few heads turned my way, but I didn’t pay them any mind.

  ‘He’s probably tame in his description if I’m honest. She’s quite flamboyant. A typical Greek mum, despite having grown up here and having gone to an English school.’

  ‘Mr. Rider?’ A waiter stopped in front of us. ‘Your table is ready, sir. If you follow me.’

  We took our cocktails and nuts and followed the waiter to a window candlelit table. The candle holder was Himalayan salt crystal. A menu on linen paper was presented to us and the waiter left us to decide what to have.

  ‘Speaking of Effie, it reminds me, I need to check on her. Althea is her best friend and I haven’t heard from her in a while when she usually calls me, like five times a day,’ I said and looked for my phone in my purse. ‘Plus, at this point we’re going so blind, I could really use her reading my fortune,’ I added and got hold of my mobile.

  ‘Your fortune?’ he asked.

  I looked at Kit and realised he had no clue what I was talking about. ‘My mum reads the coffee grains. It’s a Greek thing. It’s like our little ritual. How we usually spend our time together. You’ll understand once you meet her. She will have your coffee cup read before you know what hit you.’ I unlocked my phone while Kit chuckled.

  I had six missed calls and a text message from Sam.

  Jo wer ar u? Why an’t u answering ur phone? Harolds bin arrested. Sleazys dead.

  I needed to get my assistant to spellcheck her messages. If that was what she sent me, I could only imagine the sort of emails my clients got.

  As I reread the message I shot up.

  Harold!

  ‘I-I’ve got to go,’ I said.

  Kit stood up. ‘Is everything okay?’

  I shook my head. ‘No. No it’s not. Harold has been arrested. And Sylvester Meyers is dead.’

  ‘Oh, crap! Are you going to the station? Do you want me to come with you?’ he asked.

  ‘No. It’s okay. Sam’s there. I’m really sorry. I was looking forward to our date.’

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ Kit said. ‘Rain check?’

  I was so tense I hadn’t even noticed his worry when I’d panicked. That along with his offer to postpone made me feel even worse for ditching him at our first official date.

  ‘You’re a sweetheart. I’m so sorry. Rain check,’ I said, kissed his cheek, and then I left La Roca.

  Sixteen

  I met Sam outside the station. She was tapping her high-heeled foot and looking at her phone every three seconds.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said before I could ask her anything. ‘I didn’t mean to ruin your date with Kit. I didn’t, really.’

  I waved my hand in front of her. ‘It’s fine. How is Harold? Have you seen him?’

  ‘Yeah, they’ve got him in the interrogation room with food and drinks. Daniel said they’d treat him with respect and so far, they have.’

  ‘What happened? Why has he been arrested?’

  ‘They found Harold over Sylvester’s dead body. In Arthur’s office,’ she said.

  ‘And?’

  ‘That’s it. He was holding the murder weapon and had blood all over his front.’

  ‘But—but that’s hardly proof he killed the man. How did the police find them? What were they doing in Arthur’s office?’ I said.

  She shrugged.

  ‘I don’t know. That’s all I managed to get out of Daniel. He won’t tell me anything else.’

  I growled. ‘How are we supposed to help Harold if we don’t know what happened?’

  ‘He said family only, so I don’t qualify.’

  ‘Well, let’s see if god-daughter is good enough for him.’ I stormed inside and breezed past the front desk.

  Daniel, who was sitting at his desk, stood as soon as he saw me.

  ‘Jo, I’m so sorry,’ he said.

  ‘Harold’s not dead, Daniel. He’s just been wrongfully accused. There’s a difference.’

  ‘I know you’re close to him, but all the evidence points to him.’

  I huffed. ‘Then all the evidence was planted. Can’t you see it? Show me. Show me the evidence and I can prove it to you.’

  He pursed his lips.

  ‘I’m sorry. I can’t do that. But speak to him. Get him to tell us what he was doing in Arthur’s office and perhaps he has a fighting chance.’

  I crossed my arms and bit my cheek. ‘I will. Can you at least tell me how the police found him?’

  ‘We got an anonymous tip,’ Daniel said. ‘They told us they saw the mayor arguing with one of his colleagues. That they heard screams and that they saw them going into Arthur Foster’s office.’

  ‘Oh, come on. That screams like a plant.’

  ‘Which is why we’re investigating where that tip came from, but this thing would be a hell of a lot easier if Harold told us what he was doing in Arthur’s office.’

  I nodded and asked to be taken to him. One of the officers led Sam and me to the room just as Oliver was coming out. His hair was dishevelled and his head was hanging forward. The door closed behind him. We stopped in front of him.

  ‘Ollie! Are you okay?’ I asked him, putting my hands on his shoulders.

  He looked at us and his eyes lit up. ‘Jo, Ms. Tully? How wonderful to see you, even under the circumstances.’

  Sam bit her lip.

  ‘How is he holding up?’ I asked.

  Ollie turned to look at me. ‘He’s shaken. But my old man is strong. He’ll be fine. How are you girls getting on with your investigation?’

  ‘Well, one of our suspects turned up dead, so not good I guess,’ I answered.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll find whoever did this.’

  ‘Are you staying around? We were just going in to see him, but I don’t want to leave you alone like this,’ I said.

  He waved my notion away. ‘I’ll be fine, Jo. Really. Go on in and do your job. Don’t worry about me.’

  Sam gave his arm a squeeze and a pat and then we left Ollie and went to see his dad.

  The officer that stood by the door to the interview room opened it for us and let us in. Harold was there enveloped in a warm blanket. He gave us a half-hearted smile as soon as he saw us. A red smear was on his chin. His Earl Grey was the only sweet note about his state.

  ‘Has anyone called Althea? Do you need a change of clothes?’ I said.

  He replied with a warm smile. ‘She’s on her way. My, Jo, thank you for coming.’ He groaned.

  I gave him a quick hug and then sat across from him.

  ‘What happened, Harold? What happened tonight? Why won’t you tell the detectives?’

  He huffed and turned his head to his left. ‘Because it’s mortifying.’

  ‘What could be more mortifying than being accused of a murder you didn’t commit?’ Sam asked.

  I nodded and looked to the mayor for answers.

  ‘I got a message when I was home. They said I needed to get to Arthur’s office.’

  ‘And you did? That sounded like a trap,’ I said.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘I know. I’m stupid.’

  ‘Wait, why did you even bother? What did they want you to do in his office?’ Sam asked.

  ‘And who sent you the message?’ I added.

  ‘I don’t know. They left the message with Althea and she gave it to me straight after.’

  ‘What was so important? What did the message say?’

  My foot tapped on the floor, giving the room a sense of ticking doom.

  ‘They said I needed to take back Arthur’s file or Sleazy would get to it first.’

  ‘Why would you care about Arthur’s files?’ I raised my brow.

  Harold inspected the room and every inch from top to bottom without moving much of his head. Once that was done h
e took a deep breath.

  ‘Arthur was threatening me,’ he mumbled.

  ‘What?’ I gasped.

  ‘How?’ Sam asked at the same time.

  ‘Arthur was an obnoxious man. I told him I would never support him in the upcoming elections. He told me if I didn’t, he would leak information about me that would lose me my retirement plan.’

  ‘What sort of information?’ I asked.

  Harold’s eyes shot up. ‘I’m not proud of myself, but I was young and naïve once.’

  I placed my hand on his and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Harold, what did he have on you?’

  Harold deflated and his eyes fixated on our hands.

  ‘When I was younger, when I first joined the party, I-I would spend large sums on personal expenses and, well, sort of, not declare everything,’ he mumbled.

  Seeing my well-spoken godfather, whose manners and class were a staple of this town as much as the ground and soul of Haven, break down into a hot mess was heart-breaking.

  ‘Scumbag!’ Sam spat out.

  ‘I know. I’m sorry,’ Harold muttered.

  ‘She means Arthur,’ I told him. ‘Harold, that was decades ago. We’ve all made mistakes. No one will think any less of you after everything you’ve done for Haven.’

  Harold shrugged.

  This wasn’t the Harold I knew. This Harold had given up.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us any of this before?’ I asked.

  ‘Because it wasn’t relevant. I didn’t want you to think any less of me.’

  ‘You know I would never think that,’ I said and gave his hand a squeeze.

  He looked up at me and his eyes glistened. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Who else knew about this?’ Sam asked.

  Harold looked at her and then at me.

  ‘Nina found out. She was furious,’ he said. ‘But she didn’t hurt him. I know she didn’t.’

  Harold could never harm a fly. And I believed him through and through. But Nina I didn’t know. Even though she’d been by Harold’s side for years.

  ‘Still, we need to talk to her. Do you have her address?’ I asked.

  Seventeen

  I felt terrible going to Althea without a sweet offering, but there was no time. We needed to get my godfather, her husband, out of custody before he became a shell of the man we all knew and loved.

  The next morning we were standing outside her door.

  ‘My Jo, so nice to see you,’ she said and gave me a kiss as soon as she opened the door. Sam was next. ‘Come in, come in. Don’t just stand there. Effie is here too.’ She took us in.

  The tone that threatened Harold’s joviality was affecting her too. Her flavour was sourer than I remembered.

  Mum was there with the same emerald hair she had had the other day and matching specs, and she was holding a small cup of coffee. As soon as she saw us she put it down and came to greet us.

  ‘Althea is telling me you’re helping poor Harold,’ she said. ‘That’s my girls.’ She squeezed both our faces and gave us a sad smile.

  ‘Would you like some coffee?’ Althea asked as Effie took her seat back. ‘Your mum has brought her brew in.’

  I passed, but Sam accepted the offer.

  ‘Psychics to the rescue?’ I commented at Mum.

  Sam giggled.

  ‘If I can help, why not?’ Effie said.

  ‘How have you been, Mum? Is the shop busy?’

  ‘You know, the usual,’ she said and dipped a biscuit in her coffee. ‘Have you seen Harold? What’s your plan?’

  Before I could answer her, Althea returned.

  ‘I thought you might like some lemonade,’ Althea told me and set the tray down.

  ‘I’d love some,’ I said.

  There was nothing more complementary to Althea’s citrusy presence. It even went well with Mum’s chocolate marble cake flavour.

  ‘Have you been to see Harold yet?’ I asked.

  ‘I took him some fresh clothes. The police had to keep the…dirty ones.’

  ‘How is he?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Very patient, bless him. I can’t say the same about myself, though. Have you seen today’s paper?’

  Sam shook her head.

  Effie passed her the copy of Haven Herald and she held out the cover.

  ‘Mayor murders career’ the headline read. They had a picture of Harold from his last campaign that they had greyed out and made to look dramatic. They had also added a sketch of a ballot paper with Arthur’s and Sylvester’s names crossed out. I didn’t bother reading the article. There was still time to restore Harold’s respectability.

  ‘Which reminds me,’ I said to Althea, ‘Harold told us you picked up the phone and passed him the message last night.’

  Althea exhaled. ‘I wish I hadn’t. I knew it sounded suspicious.’

  ‘Do you know who the caller was? What did they sound like?’ I asked.

  ‘It was a deep voice. I think they were covering the speaker with a tea towel or something because the sound was croaky. I don’t know who it was. I just wish I never told him.’

  Effie sat next to her friend and hugged her.

  ‘Now, don’t be silly. My baby will find out who’s done this to poor Harold. Don’t worry, darling. It will all be okay.’

  With another dead end I wasn’t sure how much help I was going to be. There was only one more lead that was left on the agenda.

  Later on, we were sitting in Nina’s quaint little house right across from Emerald Park, which held a magnificent view of it from the front and a beautiful snap of the sea from the kitchen side.

  Nina was dressed in a robe and her hair was rolled up in curls. She was brewing us some tea as we sat quietly at her dining table. A large quartz and an onyx sat in the middle of the table and in-between them a tarot set.

  ‘I read them only yesterday and I couldn’t understand a thing,’ she said as she took a seat at the head of the table and pushed the teapot to our side. ‘I was hoping to find out who killed these two men, but they keep giving me contradicting messages.’

  ‘What is?’ Sam asked.

  ‘My tarot,’ Nina said.

  Sam squinted and looked at the deck.

  ‘Do you ever get any clear messages?’ I asked.

  Nina blew in her cup. ‘All the time. I’m hoping this teacup will give me more of a clue on this occasion.’

  I looked inside my teacup. ‘You read the tea leaves?’ Nina nodded. ‘My mum reads coffee,’ I said.

  Nina clapped her hands. ‘Oh, how exciting. Why did Althea never tell me? Maybe she can teach me?’

  I chuckled. ‘I’m sure she’d love to.’

  We all took a sip. It was a strong Earl Grey. It was as if she knew Harold’s flavour and was honouring him with it.

  And I was pleasantly surprised how well it matched her spaghetti Bolognese flavour.

  ‘This is nice,’ Sam said. Sam had claimed to be an avid tea drinker when we’d met. Looking at her indulging in her tea, I was curious if she was only drinking my special coffee brew to impress me.

  ‘I get it from the local organic shop. It comes all the way from China,’ Nina said.

  ‘Have you seen Harold yet?’ I asked, bringing the conversation to the subject of our visit.

  She shook her head. ‘I was going to go later. Is he okay?’

  ‘He told us about Arthur’s threat,’ I said.

  She pursed her lips. ‘He was an atrocious man.’

  Sam agreed. ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘I heard him shouting at Harold one day, and after he left I asked Harold what was going on. So he told me.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘He was mortified,’ she added.

  ‘Same when he told us,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t understand how it would hold up after all these years,’ Sam said.

  ‘You know the press. They love a good story. Remember when I transitioned?’ She looked at me and I nodded. ‘They were making Harold out to be a freak because he kept me in his em
ploy. They would jump at the opportunity to turn him into a monster. Like, all the good he’s done for this town isn’t enough for them.’

  I could tell she was getting agitated and I reached out and put my hand on hers.

  ‘Why would they do that? What does it matter who you are?’ Sam said.

  Nina chuckled. ‘That was in the nineties, love. People weren’t as accepting back then, even in such a progressive place like Haven.’

  Sam shook her head and drank her tea. ‘Still, though.’

  ‘Nina, did you see anything strange on the day Arthur died?’ I asked.

  ‘No. I wasn’t even there when he fell.’

  ‘Where were you?’ Sam asked.

  ‘I’d gone to use the loos. Too much champagne.’ She giggled.

  ‘Did you use the ones on the first floor?’

  Nina nodded. ‘Of course. The ground floor was inundated with guests. You should have seen the queues.’

  ‘Did you see anyone there?’

  Nina looked up and thought for a moment and then came back at me. ‘No. No one.’ Acting as if she’d found the answer in her cup, she added, ‘I did see Patrick Gardner though.’

  ‘Where?’ I asked.

  ‘He was climbing the stairs to the second floor. I don’t think he saw me,’ she said.

  ‘Are there bathrooms on the second floor?’ I asked.

  ‘Private ones, yes, but no communal ones.’

  I drank my tea and thought back to Patrick’s interview.

  ‘I think another visit to Patrick is due,’ Sam said.

  Eighteen

  We knocked on Patrick’s door and Remus’s bark echoed from the other side. Alfie sniffed the door, but I restrained him. Rose opened the door for us and when we went in we saw Remus standing by the staircase, barking. His tail was wagging, sweeping the floor and both his and his master’s chocolate flavours hit me at the same time. Alfie cried, pulling on his lead and begging to be released to greet his furry friend.

  ‘Is he okay?’ I asked.

  Rose laughed. ‘He’s grounded and he’s trying to butter me up. Hello, cutie-pie,’ she told Alfie and bent down to pet him.

 

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