by Ruby Loren
Fortunately, he liked the sound of his own voice.
“We think we’ve found our killer,” he said, transparently thrilled to have one over the ‘private detective’.
“You really think it’s George?” she said, still unwilling to entertain the idea.
“It looks that way. He’s a historian whose hobbies include archery, and the weapon you both ‘just happened’ to stumble upon belonged to him.” The officer shook his head. “Maybe it was his way of impressing you. Why he’d want to do that, I don’t know…”
Holly ignored the last part. She was thinking back to the way George had looked when he’d seen the weapon. He’d been pale and scared. Unless he was a brilliant actor, she’d have staked a lot that he hadn’t known the axe was in the box.
“But the guy in the costume shop described a customer who looked like Dylan. He came in to buy the scar kit.”
“Criminals wear disguises,” the officer said, as if that solved everything. She knew she couldn’t be sure, but disguised or not, wouldn’t the shopkeeper have recognised George? He’d seemed more observant than most.
“We’ll know for sure any second now,” the man said, his eyes fixed on the phone on the wall.
Holly crossed her arms. “Why am I here if you’re so sure it’s George?” she asked, already suspecting the answer.
“You two seem pretty friendly. Chittenden thinks there may have been an accomplice for some of the murders.”
Holly snorted. She couldn’t help herself. It was just beyond ridiculous.
“Actually, I think he’s just doing it to waste my time,” she muttered, finally starting to understand why all of the private detectives she’d met at Horn Hill House had not been the police’s number one fans.
The phone rang just as Holly said ‘Well, if you’re not arresting me…’
“They found it? I knew it! Chittenden is always right,” the sergeant said excitedly. He even smiled before he hung up. “The golf club that was used to batter Aidan to death was just found in George’s house. Case closed.”
The silence stretched out before Holly meekly asked: “Can I go?” and was released.
She walked along the streets on her way back home, wishing she’d brought a thicker coat with her. She also wished this case made more sense. The police were sure they’d got their man, but something was tickling in the back of Holly’s mind. There was something that she was missing…
“Hello Holly!” Wilbur called from his front garden. Holly nodded politely to him, unwilling to be the first to share the news. She walked a little faster and wondered whether she should call Rob.
No.
He was already convinced that George had done it.
She sighed. What if she was wrong? Perhaps she’d got too involved with the case and couldn’t see what was right in front of her. She twisted her fingers around her keys, using the motion to calm her mind so she could think.
She almost had it…
“Evening,” a voice said. Holly looked up to see Carl standing right in front of her, before something hit her on the head from behind and she blacked out.
Holly woke up with one hell of a headache, but at least she woke up.
She looked around and found she was tied to a chair in a cold, dark room. She was in someone’s cellar. It looked like the house had been built on a natural cave, she observed, as she looked around and dreamily wondered if they’d reported it. She’d heard that buildings of this nature were quite rare. She tried to stand and quickly remembered she was tied up. Then her last memory of Carl saying ‘Evening’ came flooding back, and she realised how much trouble she was in.
It was a lot.
Right now, she was sitting in the cellar of a murderer. No… two murderers! she realised.
And she had no way out.
“So… you’re the world’s worst private detective,” Carl said, walking down the stone stairs that led into Holly’s prison.
“You and Louise…” Holly said.
There was an excited giggle from behind Carl. “Ooh, she has worked it out,” Louise said. Holly wished her voice wasn’t so shrill. It was hurting her head.
“You’ve been working together. Carl… you killed Maria and must have planted the weapon in Louise’s car and made it look like someone could plausibly have broken in to plant it. You did it before you even got to the Christmas dinner. That meant she had an alibi. The police assumed you did, too, because you were waiting around for her to pick you up. That in turn meant you needed a lift and couldn't possibly have walked all the way out to the town hall, only to walk back again…” Holly paused, her head felt like it had an axe embedded in it. With these two around, it might not be long before that actually happened.
“Let her go on, this is interesting,” Louise said, holding Carl’s arm and looking up at him adoringly.
He grumbled and picked up the modern-looking bow that was leaning against the cave wall. “We’ve got time. But get on with it,” he said.
Holly chewed her lip as she quickly put everything together and wished she’d managed to figure out what had been bugging her before.
“The golf clubs… I saw you with the golf clubs the other day before you killed Aidan. I assume you stole them from George when you went to fix his sink?” she asked and found herself starting to loathe this awful pair - who were looking more proud by the second.
“That’s right. I took the axe, too. The problem was with the drain… I was the one who caused it by blocking it on the outside of the property, so it would all back up,” Carl announced.
“George is so scatterbrained, we thought he wouldn’t notice a few things going missing. Golf was one of his past hobbies. He always flits from one to another,” Louise explained. Holly gave her a questioning look. The other woman beamed. “He’s only lived near Little Wemley for a few months, that’s why no one knows him, but I used to work in London at the same office,” Louise told her.
Several things suddenly made sense to Holly. Louise’s prior knowledge of George’s habits and the town’s view of him as an outsider made him the perfect person to frame for their crimes.
“You murdered Aidan and made it look like Tutankhamen. Carl - I suppose at that murder you were playing the role of the jealous, older advisor to the pharaoh - who was most likely the killer in the original murder? The advisor then married the murdered king’s wife against her wishes. I know you never got over Chrissy, but to kill Aidan like that…” Holly trailed off, feeling sick when she remembered the scene of Aidan’s murder and realised her own scene of death wasn’t far away.
“What?!” Louise said, whirling on Carl.
He shook his head. “It’s one of the theories about the original death. She’s just trying to divide us,” he told her - rather cleverly for Carl.
“I still think we should have killed Chrissy,” Louise pouted, but Carl ignored her sulkiness.
“You wore a disguise to the costume shop, so the owner would describe someone who looked like Dylan,” Holly added. She noticed Carl was looking at her with more predatory intent. His grip on the bow was tightening.
She didn’t have much time left.
“How about Bernie? How did he die?” she asked.
This time it was Louise who spoke up. “That old fool? He was easy. He tried it on with anything that moved. I got myself invited over to his house and spiked his coffee.”
“Why did Jayne have to die?” Holly questioned, and then realised the answer as soon as she said it. Jayne’s eyes had wandered to Aidan at the Christmas party. She was probably used to picking up Chrissy’s leftovers, which meant that she and Carl had probably had a dalliance or two themselves.
Louise’s stony face confirmed it, but Carl looked a bit awkward. “Louise did that one,” he said and raised the bow.
“Wait a second… how does killing me fit in?” Holly desperately played for time and wondered if there was a way she could talk them out of this. She didn’t have any hope of rescue. No one would even not
ice she was missing until Rob arrived in town.
“The police are going to be bailing George, probably sometime later tonight, or even tomorrow. There’s a lot of evidence against him, but annoyingly, I know he has an alibi for Maria’s death. That was part of the reason why Carl put her in the freezer. We hoped it might make people question her time of death. You know… like they do in films and stuff,” Louise said and then sighed. “But we forgot about the turkey.”
Holly’s mind was racing now. “What happens now? You kill me, and somehow that will prove George did it once and for all because he’ll have been released by the police?”
Carl and Louise exchanged a glance.
“Actually, it’ll probably only be another inconvenience for George. There’s evidence, but they’ll figure out he didn’t do it in the end. We don’t really care. We’re going away. We’ve had our fun. Louise and I just don’t like you,” Carl said, and Holly wanted to scream.
“This town is too small for us now. We can go anywhere we want and do it all over again,” Louise whispered lovingly to Carl.
Now Holly felt sick. “Sounds great, guys. Here’s the thing, how about you let me go? You said it yourselves… George probably won’t go down for this, so is there really any reason to kill me? You could just let me go…”
The pair laughed.
It had been worth a shot.
“You also know too much. The police will probably put two and two together when we suddenly move away, but by then, it will be too late. We’ll be gone, and they’ll never find us,” Carl said, and Holly realised it was her time to die.
“Just one more thing…” she said weakly, staring down the shaft of an arrow. “How is shooting me in the face with an arrow historically accurate?”
“It’s the Battle of Hastings. King Harold was shot through the eye. No one knows who shot him, although there were numerous claims. That’s why it’s so appropriate for you. You’re the owner of the most successful new business in town, which can symbolise kingship. And all because you survived at Horn Hill House.” Carl shook his head to show how disgusted he was by the other mass murderer’s failings. “An arrow through the eye will be your end and your death will have fingers pointing in the wrong direction, before they realise it was us all along. We’ll be long gone by then.”
“Why make it all about history in the first place?” Holly asked, trying to make it sound casual whilst she tested her bonds. It was no use. She was really stuck.
“It was the society that brought us together. When we began looking at ancient murder mysteries, Carl and I really enjoyed it. That was when we started dating. I finally let slip my little fantasy, only to find out that Carl shared it,” Louise simpered.
Holly felt the bile rise in her throat. She’d been living in the same town as two genuine psychopaths and hadn’t known anything about it until now.
“It’s been so much fun,” Carl confirmed. “We get to see what it must have looked like when those people died, so long ago. We recreate their deaths and we get to watch. It’s the best thing I've ever done in my life. In fact, I wasn’t really living until now,” he said, raising the bow. “Try not to move or you’ll ruin my aim,” he warned, which was Holly’s cue to thrash around wildly.
The Explosive Ending
There was a muffled boom.
Holly dazedly wondered if Carl had shot her with a gun instead of an arrow, but no - she was still in one piece.
She opened an eye and saw that her would-be killers were both staring at the cellar door that had just been blasted off its hinges.
“Holly!” a voice called. She recognised George when he staggered down into the room. He slipped on the steps, having misjudged his footing in all the smoke and dust. It was lucky that he slipped, or the arrow Carl had already had notched and drawn on his bow would have got him right between the eyes. Fortunately, it sailed over his head and out through the doorway - where it harmed no one.
“ARRGH!”
Holly heard a scream of pain from outside the door.
“An arrow? Are you serious?!”
Holly was elated to hear the familiar voice of Rob Frost.
“Looks like there’ll be three bodies instead of two,” Carl said. He fired blindly out of the door, before re-notching and drawing with the bow fixed on George - who only stood a foot away from him.
“There’s something you should know about archery,” George said, calmly standing there until Carl released the string. George nimbly stepped to the side. “It only works well long range,” he informed the killer and booted the other man in the crotch.
It wasn’t the most heroic of takedowns, but it had the desired effect. Carl dropped the bow and crumpled on the ground. While all this was going on, Rob had staggered in with an arrow sprouting from his thigh, before promptly falling off the steps and landing on Louise. Holly wouldn’t like to say whether it had been intentional or not.
A minute later, both villains were tied up.
Holly leaned against the wall at the entrance of the cellar, standing between Rob and George. “Thanks for saving me, but how did you know?” The two men exchanged a look over Holly’s head that she didn’t see.
“I arrived in town earlier than expected. Your secretary girl told me you’d been taken in for questioning,” Rob said and frowned. “She was very nice to me, by the way. I think you’re being too hard on her.”
Holly ground her teeth and didn’t bother trying to explain to Rob that it was because he was male and good looking.
“I’d been released by the police - although, they said they were going to have an officer check up on me every couple of hours. They let me know you’d also been let go. I have alibis for a couple of the deaths. The police couldn’t figure out how I could have done it - despite the weaponry evidence,” George said… and not without some bitterness.
Holly could empathise.
“I was on my way to the station and George was on his way back home. We bumped into each other and realised you’d gone missing. We walked back towards the station and that’s when we saw your keys on the ground, halfway under a parked car,” Rob informed her.
Holly’s eyebrows shot up. She suddenly remembered she’d been playing with them before the villainous pair had knocked her out.
“Then, I just figured out the rest,” Rob said, none too modestly.
George glared at him. “I was the one who realised that whoever had framed me must have got into my house. That left me with Chrissy or Carl. You’d already told me how Chrissy reacted to Aidan’s death. That didn’t sound much like a coldblooded killer to me. I’ve also called on her since, and she’s not the same person she was before what happened to Aidan. I knew she was innocent.”
“That and the keys were right outside Carl’s house,” Rob said. George just shrugged.
“It’s lucky I always carry a few army regulation explosives with me,” Rob continued.
Holly squinted at him. “Army regulation?”
Rob shuffled his feet. “I’d already sneaked into Jack’s room and stolen them as a joke before he was, you know… disintegrated. I’m sure he’d have wanted me to have them,” Rob said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.
Holly sighed but didn’t bother contradicting him. Rob seemed to have the luck of the devil, but this time, that luck had been extended to her - and for that she was grateful. Stolen grenades and all.
“I don’t even think the door was locked. The front door was open, but he didn’t let me try the cellar door,” George said.
Holly glared at Rob, who smiled back at her.
“You’ve got to make a proper entrance!”
She resisted the temptation to ask just how long it had taken him to set up the explosives and also resisted the urge to tell him just how close she’d been to getting an arrow through her eye.
“At least we’re all fine,” she said, deciding to make the best of it.
“Yeah, apart from the arrow in my leg,” Rob said.
; Holly looked down at it. “Oh.”
Rather a lot of blood was leaking from the wound. She suspected that the tip may have pierced a vein.
“We should probably get you to a hospital.”
A day later, nearly dying felt like a surreal bad dream. The police had arrived and taken away the crazed killers, and Rob had been carted off to hospital. There was no acknowledgement of anyone’s help by the police force, but Holly would always remember that she owed her life to Rob and George.
She hummed a tune as she added the chocolate drops to her hot chocolate. She supposed that made her and Rob even again. A thought flashed across her mind as she wondered if he would withdraw his support of the agency now he didn’t owe her a life debt, but she shook her head. Bridges like that could be crossed when everything was back to normal again. Anyway, the agency had started to turn a small profit - despite Becky’s brusque handling of calls. Holly thought it may turn out to be a success after all - especially now that the townspeople would hopefully revise their opinions of her potentially being involved in the recent spate of murders.
There was a knock at the door. Holly got up to answer it, knowing that the chocolate would be perfectly melted by the time she returned.
She’d been expecting the postman, but when she opened the door, Rob stood there with a bunch of flowers and an envelope.
“For me?” she asked, a little startled.
“No, for me. You didn’t send any, so I got them for myself,” he said, walking straight past her into the kitchen. “Thanks by the way. They’re my favourites! How did you know?” He plonked himself down on a chair and took a slurp of her hot chocolate.
“You’re an idiot,” she said. “I heard it only took them an hour to fix you up. You spent the rest of the night at the local pub telling your sob story to anyone who’d listen. Don’t try and fish for sympathy from me.”
Rob grinned and lowered the bouquet and envelope onto the table. He was about to say something else when there was another knock at the door.
