The Missing Party-Girl: A Rags-to-Riches Cozy Mystery Romance

by Nhys Glover

  “What is this?” Adie asked suspiciously.

  “My afternoon delight, my dear. My afternoon delight! A mint julep just like they drank in the South before the Civil War. Being American, I thought you’d appreciate a little taste of home!”

  Adie looked at Cage, who took a polite sip of his drink.

  How did the old woman know ahead of time that Americans would be visiting her? Then she remembered Cage’s phone call. They’d probably alerted the woman to the fact she was about to get visitors.

  Cage looked up after swallowing a token mouthful. “Thank you, ma’am, it’s great! Now, do you remember Michael Fredrickson? You would have been about eighteen when you knew him.”

  Adie took a sip of her drink as well, just to be polite. It was very strong and she had to fight the cough as the fiery liquid made its way down her unsuspecting throat.

  “It never rains but it pours, don’t you think?” Ruby declared with a shrill laugh. “I get no visitors for months, even years. Then, out of the blue, two sets of visitors arrive in the same week. Definitely pouring!”

  Adie shot a glance at Cage, her heart sinking at the news. There could only be one other person they knew of who would be visiting Fredrickson’s alibi.

  “What did Winsley want?” Cage asked, his voice as hard as granite.

  False eyelashes fluttering as Embers tried to be coy. “Oh, you stole the suspense right out of the moment. Yes, it was a man called Robert Winsley who came to visit me. Asked about Mickey, just like you did.”

  “Mickey? Do you mean Michael Fredrickson?” Cage demanded.

  The flamboyant woman took another sip of her drink to build the suspense. Adie could tell she was enjoying being the center of attention. Every moment she could hold off from sharing what she knew, meant a moment more she’d be able to hold onto her unexpected guests.

  “Whatever Winsley offered you, we’ll double it,” Adie said, trying to cut to the chase.

  The woman was creepy. And though she felt sorry for anyone who was so alone, she didn’t like being held captive in this way.

  The woman grinned maniacally, her red lipstick marking her obviously false teeth. “No need for that, dearie. If that fool of a man wanted to pay me to tell you the alibi I gave Mickey was legit, then who am I to argue with him? You could double what he paid, and I’d still say the same thing.” She shrugged her shoulders in an exaggerated fashion.

  Cage frowned. Adie found herself doing the same thing. What did this crazy woman mean?

  “Winsley wanted you to lie and tell us Fredrickson, sorry Mickey, was with you that weekend? Winsley believed Mickey wasn’t with you?” Cage said, putting the pieces together.

  “Exactly. He came here waving a hundred pounds in my face, saying I had to keep lying about that weekend. He said the police would arrest me for making a false report if I changed my story now. So I agreed and took his money. The thing is, I didn’t need to lie, did I? I remember that weekend well. Mickey was furious about something his ex-wife had done and it took me ages to calm him down. And then he got all, ‘I’ll show her what she’s missing. Let’s paint the town red!’ And we did. I’d never had a weekend like it before, and I never had one as good after it. I love, love, loved every minute!”

  “But are you sure it was the last weekend in March?” Cage checked. “At his first interview Mickey was unsure he had an alibi. Then a few days later he turns up with one. And this was two months after his ex-wife went missing. It would be easy enough to get the weekends mixed up when he asked you to be his alibi.”

  Embers nodded emphatically. “Oh, I know the weekend exactly. One of clubs we went to had the Locomotive playing. They were a band from Birmingham that were really starting to go somewhere. They had a different name like Something or other Seven… I’m not sure, but later they were the Locomotive. And that night they were playing at this club Mickey knew. He took me to it, and I kept the tickets for years after. So I know it was that Saturday night.”

  “Did you tell all this to Winsley?” Cage asked.

  Embers scoffed. “He never asked me what actually happened. He just told me what I had to say and handed me the money. Easiest hundred I ever made.” She grinned again.

  “And he arrived about lunch time on that Saturday and didn’t leave till late Sunday?” Cage checked.

  Embers nodded again vigorously. “Just like I told the Old Bill back then. Cross my heart!”

  She made a cross on her flat chest, slopping a little of her drink onto her kaftan as she did so. Her accent was deteriorating the longer she spoke.

  “But why didn’t he give you as the alibi up front?” Cage asked, more to himself than to her.

  It was something that Adie had found suspicious as well.

  “Oh, that’s easy. I wasn’t quite eighteen at the time Mickey took up with me. And his parents, especially his mum, blamed him and his philandering for the breakup of his marriage. He had his own money from a trust fund, but sometimes he had to top it up by asking his mum for more. You know how those rich toffs are.

  “Anyway, his mum was real mad at him for taking his son away from his wife. She said she wouldn’t give him another penny until he got his life in order. So he told his mum he was staying away from women and partying. When the Old Bill pulled him in that first time, he didn’t want to admit what he’d been up to with me. But after he left the Old Bill he knew he was in trouble, so he had to come clean.”

  As she’d told her tale, Ruby’s accent had deteriorated to the point where she was speaking with an accent very similar to their cabbie’s.

  Adie had no doubt she was telling the truth. Although a little bit tipsy, she was clearly recounting the events of a special weekend she remembered long after it was over.

  “Did he ever say anything about his wife going missing?” Cage asked.

  The woman shook her head thoughtfully. “Not that I can recall. He stopped coming around after he came clean about me to the Old Bill. I thought it was because his mum made him. Awful when a bloke has apron strings attached like that. But except to complain about his ex to me that weekend, he never said nothing about her that I remember.”

  “Did he seem different after that weekend, as if he had less problems?” Cage pressed.

  The old lady screwed up her face, thinking hard. “You know, now I think about it… He said she was always on at him about not letting her see her boy. Then she stopped bugging him and he was relieved. Maybe he said something like that. Or maybe I added that after I knew she was gone. I couldn’t swear to any of that on a Bible. It’s just too long ago… I have trouble remembering what I had for breakfast some days. But my time with Mickey… that I remember. Everybody deserves a prince in their life just once, even one tied to his mum’s apron strings. I love, love, loved my time with Mickey.”

  Her voice, by the end, had a faraway quality to it that made Adie’s heart ache despite herself. What must it be like to have your teenage dream come true, and then to lose it again. Would she have sometimes wondered if ‘Mickey’ had been real at all and not just a fantasy she’d made up to fill her loneliest hours? Maybe those tickets to the see the Locomotive had been her way to remind herself it had all been real.

  Adie shook herself out of her melancholy thoughts. They reminded her too much of her own situation with Cage. Even now, there were some mornings she woke up, sure that the big man sharing her life was simply a dream. On those mornings she’d feel the dread that always followed the realization he was real, but that he was not a permanent fixture in her life. No more than Fredrickson had been a permanent part of Embers’ life.

  Another sharp shake of her head to dislodge the sadness and she was back on track.

  Did this extra bit of information change anything? Fredrickson was being bugged by his ex and then the bugging stopped. He either found a way to get rid of her, or he just thought he’d won, and she’d given up. But if he’d paid someone to get rid of his problem, surely he’d have had his alibi well and truly in place
before the cops came on the scene. And probably an alibi that wouldn’t get him in strife with his mother.

  Cage rose, took Adie’s drink from her hands and place both glasses on the table next to the old lady. He then took Ruby’s hand, holding it between both of his.

  “Thank you for your honesty. You’ve been very helpful. Adie, do you have any other questions?”

  He turned to Adie as an afterthought, probably remembering that this was actually supposed to be her mystery to solve.

  “No, no. We have all the answers we need. Thank you, Miss Embers,” Adie rushed to say.

  The old lady beamed happily. “Glad to be of help. It wasn’t right what Mickey did to his wife. Taking her son from her, I mean. But nobody’s perfect, are they? He was always good to me.”

  “Thank you again for your time and your refreshments,” Cage said, ushering Adie towards the door.

  Adie couldn’t get away from there fast enough.

  Chapter 5

  By the time they were down on the street again Cage had called up their cab and they were able to step into it immediately. The whole visit had taken less than half an hour. It felt like a lot longer to Adie.

  “Sorry I took over up there,” Cage said awkwardly. “I just went into PI mode.”

  Adie laughed. “You and your good looks were her focus. You needed to be the one to ask the questions. Who knows how much extra stonewalling she would have done if I’d taken the lead.”

  Cage relaxed. “Good. I did notice her fascination with me. When stuff like that happens I like to use it.”

  Adie pulled a face. “For someone who thinks nothing of his appearance, you know how to use it to your advantage.”

  Cage shrugged a little guiltily. “You use what you have. Sometimes it’s my size and muscles, sometimes it’s my looks or color. Using what you’ve got doesn’t mean you place value on those things yourself.”

  This was an old argument Adie knew she could never hope to win. One day Cage might explain his attitudes to her more fully, but not today.

  “Where to now?” she asked instead.

  “To Soho and Minerva’s flat,” he announced, before leaning over to give Barry the address.

  After that Cage rang the estate agent and confirmed their arrival time.

  For another half an hour Adie enjoyed the sights of London as they made the trip back towards London’s West End via the scenic route. Her head was spinning with all the different sights she saw. All the while Barry regaled them with information all tourists ate up like candy. His spiel became more relevant to Minerva’s mystery the closer they came to their destination.

  “The West End of London has been the center of entertainment for the masses for centuries,” he told them. “It got a fresh injection of life in the 60s when places like Carnaby Street and the new trends started drawing young, talented people to a city that’d been dour and war-damaged up ‘til then. They called it Swinging London, and though it’s not a big deal to us now, back then it would’ve been. Short skirts? Men with long hair? Shocking! The hair was the Beatles influence, o’ course.”

  “I know the Beatles,” Adie spoke up.

  Barry laughed. “You should! Their music changed the world. People still love their music.”

  “This part you want to go to… it was the center of the mod culture. The Notting Hill area a little further out was a poorer area where the counter culture had its roots. Where the drugs and sex and rock and roll all started up. Trippy psychedelic stuff like LSD, that the middle-class mods weren’t into.”

  “We’re looking into a club from that time. It was called The Den, and it was supposed to be pretty seedy. They had go-go dancers. Short skirts, knee-high boots, cages… that kind of stuff,” Cage said.

  “Oh, aye. Any club in Soho area would’ve been seedy. That’s what the patrons wanted, you know? A walk on the wild side. But not the LSD and dope. That was further out, my ol’ da used to say. Kids with no future. The lower classes, you know. They turned to drugs and rebellion. Angry generation, that ’un. My da was no more’n a sprout back then, but he said the brawls were ugly. And the drugs just made it worse.”

  “Marihuana doesn’t encourage violence,” Adie piped up, surprising herself.

  “Not when its bein’ smoked. Same for LSD. If you’re tripping you aren’t usually violent. But when you weren’t up… then people’s anger came out. Oh, listen to me. Not exactly what I should be talkin’ about on a tour.”

  “Do you know if anyone from that time still lives in the area? Anyone who might have known The Den?” Cage asked, when Barry stopped yet again for lights.

  Really, they could have walked faster. But then they wouldn’t have gotten the Londoner’s perspective.

  Barry looked down at his sat nav, studying the address Cage gave him. “That’s not a club anymore. Building got torn down. But there are shops across the road that have probably been in the hands of the same families for generations. I’d start there, if you want to know more about that club.”

  Cage nodded.

  When they pulled up on a narrow, congested street, Adie looked about her doubtfully. There was nothing appealing about the setting. Tall, crowded-in old buildings that had little to no character. And the people hurrying everywhere, making the traffic move even slower than it had been going before that.

  “This is it!” Barry announced with a flourish. “Not quite the heart of the red-light district, but not far off. You want me to wait?”

  “No. We’ll be fine from here. The Strand is within walking distance,” Cage said.

  He took out his wallet and handing over a wad of cash. From the happy expression on Barry’s face Adie assumed the amount had included a good-sized tip.

  “Enjoy the rest of your stay in London. There’s no place like it!” Barry said, by way of farewell.

  A few moments later Adie was watching the black cab join the throng yet again, feeling like she’d lost a friend. It was a silly thought. The man had just been earning his tip. His friendly, open manner didn’t mean he’d actually liked them.

  Resolutely, she turned to take in the building they’d come to view. It sat on an intersection occupied by other multistory buildings that had seen better days. At the frosted glass and wrought-iron embellished door a sophisticated looking business woman stood, obviously waiting for someone. Them?

  Immediately intimidated, Adie fought the urge to huddle in a little behind Cage, letting him take the lead. But his arm through hers forced her to rethink that option. If they were supposed to be a couple looking for an apartment, she needed to act the part. At least her clothes were expensive enough that the realtor wouldn’t be turning her nose up at her. She’d probably be wondering why a gorgeous hunk like Cage was with someone like Adie, though.

  “Mr. Donovan?” the blonde asked, with a carefully modulated accent Adie had come to know as ‘grammar school’ elocution. It lacked the pebble-in-the-mouth rounded vowels Ruby had mimicked at the beginning of her interview, but in every other way sounded too stuck-up to be real.

  A perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted as the woman took them in.

  Cage held out his hand. “Yep, that’d be me. And this is my partner, Adie Reynolds. As I said on the phone, we’re moving to London for work and thought we might buy instead of rent. A good investment.”

  The big blue eyes, beautifully made up, opened a little wider, as if the amount of information he was giving her up-front was more than she expected. “Absolutely. The London market is buoyant right now. Perfect time to buy in. I’m Elizabeth Graham, and I’ve been working in the industry here in London for more than ten years, so I know what I’m talking about. You’re American?”

  She looked politely from Cage to Adie, trying to determine where to put her focus. At least she was wise enough not to flutter her eyelashes at a man when his partner was at his side. Especially when she couldn’t be sure who made the decisions.

  Adie wished she wasn’t so cynical. Forcefully, she plastered on a smil
e and took the hand the woman offered her.

  “Yes. London is very different from home,” she said, casting her eye around the neighborhood dubiously.

  “This area is quite gentrified these days,” the woman rushed to assure her. “It just doesn’t look that way from the outside. Part of its charm, in my opinion. And so well situated. The West End theatres are only a few blocks away. You couldn’t get more central to the beating heart of the city if you tried.”

  Elizabeth gave Adie’s hand a brief shake and then turned to lead the way into the old building.

  Adie tried to imagine what it would have looked like to an eighteen-year-old girl leaving home for the first time. Minerva had been English, so it wouldn’t have been as much of a culture shock as it was for Adie. But she hadn’t grown up in London. The city would have to have seemed loud, crowded and overwhelming. And Minerva’s dad, the one Adie had come to know from his wartime journal, would have been hypercritical of her choice when he brought her up here for the first time. Soho would probably have had a bad reputation, but it would have been the only place an unemployed girl could find accommodation in her price-range. And only then if she shared with other girls in a similar situation.

  “The flat is three bedroom and on the second floor. That’s the third floor to you, I imagine. There’s no lift, and the stairs are a little steep and narrow, as you can see. But it’s all been tastefully renovated and refurbished in the last ten years. Do you have problems with stairs?”

  Despite herself, Elizabeth’s gaze had done the up-and-down thing with Cage before doing the same to Adie. It was only too apparent which one of them she assumed would have problems with stairs.

  Adie could almost read the realtor’s mind. ‘The stairs will be good for you. Knock off a few of those extra pounds!’

  “The stairs are no problem,” Adie snapped, surprising both herself and Cage.

  Flustered, she tried to get her annoyance under control. The woman hadn’t said she needed the exercise. That was just how Adie had read her body-language and tone.