Death at the Duck Pond

by J New

  “Oh dear. I presume you mean Milo’s wife?”

  “Indeed, I do.” Celia lowered her voice. “I don’t know where she gets all her airs and graces from. I heard she used to be a stripper, you know.”

  “Surely not.” Penny didn’t want to encourage that sort of talk, although to be fair, Celia was right. Burlesque dancers did take their clothes off, as far as she understood. “Some kind of a dancer, I think.”

  “Hmm, dancing around poles, more like. I’ve seen her on the television, pretending she’s a fancy Nancy in that reality show, and anyone can see she’s common as muck. Anyway, after that nice Inspector Monroe left this morning, What’s-Her-Face called me in and said they’d like me to make a list of everything that’s missing to help the police find the things James has already sold. If the stolen goods can’t be found, then they’ll need it for making an insurance claim.”

  “I suppose you’re the only person who can do that, if James won’t cooperate.” Penny looked around the kitchen. Cake tins lined every available surface, as well as the large island in the centre of the room. “Are you feeding an army, Celia? It does seem unreasonable if they’ve asked you to do all of this as well.”

  “And pack my things and be out by next week,” Celia reminded her. “Master Milo has an appointment with Mr Hawkins, the solicitor, when he gets back from his holiday on Tuesday.” She motioned to the cake tins. “These are for the do in the village hall tomorrow after the funeral. The Pig and Fiddle are in charge of the soup and sandwiches, but I’m making the cakes. I want to do Mrs Montague proud.”

  “I’m sure you will, Celia.” Penny looked down at Fischer, who was pawing her leg. “What is it, Fischer?”

  He jumped up at her pocket, and she remembered the brooch. Taking it out, she handed it to Celia. “Fischer found this by the duck pond. I think it might belong to Mrs Montague. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking it was part of James’ haul.”

  Celia squinted at the brooch before passing it back to Penny. “This wasn’t hers, I’m sure of it. It looks kind of familiar, but then I suppose it’s a classic design. The only cameo Mrs Montague owned was a hair barrette she wore when she was much younger. When she started wearing her hair in a shorter style, she gave it to one of her goddaughters.”

  “I’ll hand it in to the police station, in that case. Someone else might be looking for it.” Penny put it back in her pocket, confused. She had been certain she’d seen this exact brooch not long ago, but then she’d also been convinced Mrs Montague was murdered, and that was way off the mark. As Celia said, it was a classic style of brooch.

  Several minutes later Mr Kelly arrived and they moved to the library.

  “Look at this one. There’s your mother and father, with party hats on. I think that was at a Christmas dinner in the village hall.”

  Upstairs in the library, Mr Kelly handed Penny a black and white photograph. The festive decor didn’t look much different to how it had been at the most recent Christmas party a few weeks before.

  “They look so young. And my dad still had a full head of hair!”

  “You’re the image of your mother in this one.” Mr Kelly handed her another. “Although the man she’s talking to isn’t your father, so best not show him that one.”

  Penny gazed at the picture of Sheila, who was engaged in animated conversation with a young man with long sideburns. In her twenties, she was dressed to the nines in a silk sweater, full skirt and pointy heels. It was hard to imagine her parents as she knew them now, being that young once. “Is that Mrs Montague?” She pointed to a woman at the side of the frame.

  “That’s right.” Mr Kelly’s face lit up. “She really was a stunner, wasn’t she?”

  “Wow.” All the young women looked pretty to Penny, but Mrs Montague was beautiful. Leafing through the photos, Penny was struck by how she was laughing in practically every one of the shots. She seemed oblivious to the stares she garnered from people around her, as though they were somehow drawn to her magnetism. “She and Mr Montague look like a couple of movie stars.”

  “Yes. Although, it seems like they’ve annoyed her for some reason.” Mr Kelly indicated a woman who was glaring at the young Mrs Montague. “If looks could kill, eh?”

  Penny gasped. She had seen that stare before, but it had been aimed squarely at her. Those same beady eyes, squinting into a purse full of money to count out pennies to meet a library fine. And the curled up mouth, sneering at her about how unfair the system was. The brooch on the woman’s dress was the same as the one currently in the pocket of Penny’s coat.

  Mr Kelly gave her a concerned look. “Penny are you all right? Do you need a glass of water?”

  Her voice came out as a whisper. “Do you know the name of the woman staring daggers at the Montagues?”

  “Yes, that’s Dawn Hampton. She was going out with Daniel Montague before he got together with Myrtle. The rest, as they say, is history. The Montagues lived happily ever after. As for Dawn, the story goes she was so brokenhearted she moved away not long afterwards. I heard she went overseas, although I’m not sure where.”

  “South Africa, by any chance?”

  “Come to think of it, you might be right.” Mr Kelly gave Penny a quizzical look. “Are you going to tell me where this is leading?”

  Penny’s heart was pounding. “Is Mrs Nelson’s first name Dawn?”

  “Yes, I believe it is.” Mr Kelly held the photo up close to his face and scrutinised it for a long time. “My goodness, I see what you mean. The resemblance is uncanny. Dawn Hampton and Dawn Nelson could very well be the same person. Out of context and with so many years gone by, it never occurred to me. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Penny nodded. “Probably. Let me show you something else.” She got up from her chair and came back with her jacket, taking out the brooch. “Fischer found this today. I thought it was Mrs Montague’s but Celia said not, but what if it actually belonged to the person who was with her on the night she died? The person who is wearing the same brooch in the photo you’re holding, and who I saw wearing it on her coat at the library van?”

  “I thought you said murder was off the agenda?”

  Penny grimaced. “I know. But this…” Her voice trailed off. Part of her wanted to let it go, but a niggling feeling was stopping her.

  “I agree it’s worth looking into. We really need to make sure one way or another.”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t make sense. Mrs Nelson was at the cinema the night Mrs Montague died, Mrs Potter already vouched for her.”

  Mr Kelly clicked his tongue. “Convenient, but not conclusive. What else do we have?”

  “Apparently, Mrs Nelson is going on holiday on Sunday. She was cagey about where and how long for. She just said somewhere warmer.” Penny’s heart began to beat faster. Perhaps they were on to something after all.

  “I’ll tell you what. How about we each see what we can find out about Mrs Nelson this afternoon? My daughter Laura has a friend who works in the travel agency in Winstoke, so I’ll follow that up.”

  “Great.” Penny lifted the photos and placed them back in the envelope. She wanted to study them again later in more detail. “Let’s get going. I can give you a lift there now.”

  Then, after dropping Mr Kelly off and before any investigating, she knew she would have to do what she had been putting off all day. Etched in the forefront of her mind were two words.

  Call Edward.

  A sheepish looking Edward met Penny in the Pig and Fiddle that evening, still wearing his work suit. She had chosen the pub as neutral territory, and also as a potential source of information about Mrs Nelson.

  There was no getting around the fact Mrs Nelson appeared to have a solid alibi. A word with Celia on their way out from the manor confirmed she had seen some of the ladies from the knitting group, Mrs Nelson included, buying sweets in the foyer before the mo
vie. Penny had made no further inroads on the investigation that afternoon. On the walk past the duck pond on the way to drop Fischer with her parents, she observed the lighting, although dim, did not lend itself to people hiding unseen. If Mrs Montague wasn’t alone when she died, Penny was certain she had been with a person she knew, rather than someone who had taken her by surprise. She had racked her brains to think of who Mrs Montague might have been going to meet that night and drawn a blank. There was still a missing piece to the puzzle, but for the moment, she had a different matter on her mind.

  Edward stood up awkwardly to greet Penny, leaning forward with his hand stuck out, as though he couldn’t make up his mind whether to kiss her cheek or shake her hand. Eventually he decided a peck on the cheek would be appropriate, but at the exact moment he moved in Penny turned her head and his nose butted into her temple with a crack.

  “Ow. Sorry. Hello, Penny.”

  “Hi, Edward.”

  She sat opposite watching his eyes dart everywhere but at her. She couldn’t ever recall having seen him look so nervous before, and it gave her no pleasure. The over-confident Edward was reduced to a quivering wreck, and all she could feel was sadness.

  “I ordered you wine,” he said, pushing a glass of white across the table towards her, spilling it a little as he did so.

  “I’ll just have an orange juice, if you don’t mind.” She said, thinking wine would be a bad choice under the circumstances. She started to get up. “I’ll just go to the bar.”

  “No, I’ll get it,” he said, springing to his feet. “Won’t be a minute.”

  Penny watched him at the bar, solemn-faced, trying to catch Katy’s attention. The pub was busy with the Friday evening after-work crowd, but she knew it would quiet down in a couple of hours. The Pig and Fiddle wasn’t the sort of place where people stayed for hours and got rowdy or drunk. Mellow and homely, most of the clientele lingered just long enough for a couple of drinks or a meal before heading on their way. She idly patted the wet patch on the table with a napkin.

  Edward returned with her orange juice and sat down again.

  “Thanks.” She proceeded to sip her drink in silence, waiting for him to speak.

  “I owe you an apology,” he blurted out when he realised she wasn’t going to start the conversation for him. “I’m sorry.” He dropped his gaze, unable to sustain eye contact with her. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

  Penny set down her glass. “You mean, I wasn’t supposed to find out?”

  “No, not that. None of it was meant to happen. One thing just led to another, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “It’s a little late for that, Edward.” Penny’s voice was calm and even. “But I think I deserve an explanation, don’t you?”

  He nodded, his face glum. “We met in December at a talk about tax fraud. I needed to get my professional education hours up. Renee was one of the speakers. Our paths crossed again the night of our office Christmas party. The firm she’s a partner with was having their party at the same hotel. What a coincidence, eh?” He smiled nervously.

  “Indeed.” So, the sexy blonde had a name. And she worked in the same field, as a partner to boot. Right up Edward’s street. “Go on.”

  “I introduced myself and told her how much I’d enjoyed her talk. I had a few questions, so we swapped numbers. It just kind of went from there.” He shrugged.

  Penny’s cheeks smarted as if she had been slapped. The dreamy look in Edward’s eyes when he talked about Renee told her he was smitten.

  “I didn’t want to say anything until I’d decided what to do.”

  “The thing is, while you’ve been playing both sides of the fence I’ve made the decision for you.” Penny wasn’t interested in whether she’d made the cut after his careful cost-benefit analysis of whether to continue their relationship, or to go all-in with his bit on the side. “Apart from the fact you’ve cheated on me and been dishonest to boot, I think we both know our relationship’s not been great for a while.” Had it ever been really great? He certainly had never had the same dreamy look on his face for her, as he had for Renee. But there was no point raking over old coals. They were where they were. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it last weekend. Now, I can understand that you had other things on your mind.”

  Edward spluttered. “You’re the one who was so wrapped up in Mrs Montague’s book project and solving her non-existent murder, to pay any attention to me or what I’ve been doing. Clearly, your priorities lie elsewhere. Tell me, Penny, am I supposed to twiddle my thumbs, waiting for you to fit me in to your busy schedule while you’re off playing Miss Marple?”

  Penny took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to tolerate being blamed for Edward’s behaviour. She knew he really did believe she had been unreasonable, but that was still no excuse for what he had done.

  “That’s not how it should be, Edward. It’s not my role to be at your beck and call. I’m sorry our relationship has run its course. It’s just a shame that things had to end this way. I thought more of you. Unfortunately, you didn’t extend me the same regard.”

  “Oh.” Apparently, Edward was lost for words. If so, that was a first.

  Penny pulled the diamond solitaire ring off her engagement finger and handed it to him. Immediately, she felt lighter without it.

  Edward rolled the ring in his fingers. “If that’s how you feel, I suppose we should call it a day. I was going to reconsider, if you’d asked, but there you go.” He frowned, perhaps surprised she wasn’t going to cry and beg him to come back to her.

  She took a sip of her orange juice. “Yes, there you go.”

  He regarded her in earnest. “I hope we can still be friends. If you need any accountancy work doing, you know where I am. I’m sure I can arrange a small discount off my normal rate.”

  Penny nodded. “That’s kind of you, and yes, perhaps we can learn to be friends again in the future, but at the moment I need my space. I hope you understand.”

  “Sure.” Edward stuffed the ring in his pocket and checked his watch. “Are you going to be all right? I need to be off. I’ve arranged to meet someone. Do you want me to call Susie to take you home?”

  Penny shook her head. Edward’s concern was genuine, but she didn’t need a shoulder to cry on. “You go on, I’ll be fine.”

  “Well, if you’re sure.” He stood up and straightened his suit jacket. “Bye, then. Take care.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to shake her hand, but this time he did manage plant a kiss on her cheek. “Goodbye, Edward.”

  Fifteen

  Penny stretched out on the sofa, a throw covering her pyjama-clad legs. She dipped her spoon into the tub of vegan ice cream, promising herself to put it back into the freezer after one more mouthful. Fischer, curled up beside her, was chewing loudly.

  “I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying your Friday night dog treat. We’re so rock and roll, aren’t we, Fischer? I could get used to this.”

  She set the ice cream tub down on the coffee table and reached for the Winstoke Gazette. Susie dropped a complimentary copy through her letterbox every issue. With no Edward to dictate what to watch, a whole new realm of weekend television was opening up in front of her. That, and many more constructive activities, of course. But a feel-good television show or film would do for starters.

  Distracted, she realised the ice cream was still calling to her. There was no point getting up from her comfy position and walking all the way to the freezer, she reasoned. That would involve disturbing Fischer as well, and besides, there really wasn’t enough left to make the effort worthwhile.

  “I may as well finish it, what do you think?”

  Fischer’s tail thumped against her leg, a sure sign of his approval.

  Reclaiming the ice cream tub and spoon, she began to flick through the paper to t
he television guide. The movie review Susie had written for the Hollywood musical blockbuster caught her eye, and she smiled as she read the first paragraph.

  ‘Opening night for the hotly-tipped Oscar contender was a sell-out at Winstoke Cinema on Thursday. Your intrepid movie critic, Susie Hughes, made it through rush hour at the popcorn stand and into her seat just as the opening titles started to roll. Only one solitary seat remained empty as she squeezed her way to the end of the row, thanking her lucky stars she wasn’t the only straggler. But the delights of Hollywood wait for no one and the prime view seat was never claimed. What a waste! Someone missed a corker…’

  “Typical Susie, always running late for everything. There’s an idea. I might go to the cinema tomorrow night, Fish Face. Edward won’t be coming around anymore, you see.”

  Fischer gave her hand a slobbery lick.

  “Eww. Unfortunately, dogs aren’t allowed in the cinema, so I can’t take you.” The movie had been open for just over a week, so the crowds should have died down. Going by herself did not faze her in the slightest. She decided to play it by ear, and check with her parents first if they were free to watch Fischer. “Let’s see what Granny and Granddad say when we see them tomorrow.”

  Her phone buzzed on the table, and when she saw the name on the screen she answered right away. “Hello, Mr Kelly. How did you get on at the travel agency? I hope you had more luck than I did. I’ve nothing to report at all, I’m afraid.” After Edward had left the pub, she had said a quick hello to several people, but she hadn’t seen anyone with a possible connection to Mrs Nelson. “I’m all out of ideas.”

  Mr Kelly sounded excited. “In that case, I think you’ll be very interested in what I’m about to tell you.”

  Penny leaned forward in anticipation. “I’m intrigued, what did you find out?”

  Mr Kelly let out a chuckle. “I’m afraid the staff at the travel agent’s might think I have a crush on Mrs Nelson, or worse, that I’m some sort of stalker. I said I had been talking to her about her upcoming holiday and it sounded fabulous. Asked them for prices for the same round trip she was going on and if there was any availability. Laura’s friend didn’t bat an eye. She pulled up the details straight away.”