Murder at the Old Abbey

by Pippa McCathie

  “Do you think that’s what I’m suggesting? Don’t be stupid,” she snapped. “But you could bear it in mind when you’re questioning people.”

  “What makes you think I’m not going to?”

  “Well, are you?”

  The silence stretched out, the atmosphere thick with misunderstanding. Fabia got up and began to put their plates and cutlery in the dishwasher. She felt a little sick. This was going so wrong; it wasn’t what she’d intended. She told herself she was being stupid. Matt was right, why did she have to be so touchy? But she couldn’t think of a way out of the maze they seemed to have got themselves into. She turned and looked at Matt. He was staring straight ahead, his expression full of anger and frustration.

  “Perhaps,” he said as she came back to sit opposite him, “I shouldn’t have involved you. It wasn’t really fair of me, I’m sorry.”

  “What do you mean, not fair?”

  “Well, you’ve had such a hard time over this last two and a half years, coping with being vilified, knowing that you’d been stitched up and unable to do anything about it, all that, and making a new life for yourself with your art, followed by– well, it must have put a hell of a strain on you.”

  “I can accept that, but I’m absolutely fine now.” She tried to instil as much conviction into her voice as she possibly could.

  “Are you? What with the nightmares and everything?”

  “What everything?”

  “You told me, a while ago, that you had panic attacks.”

  “Only the one, and that was months ago,” she said.

  “I still think I’m expecting too much of you. It’s not as if I was asking for help from someone still in the force. It’s not your job anymore.”

  Fabia felt a tide of anger rising up inside her. “That’s a bit of an insult,” she said, her voice a little unsteady.

  “No, it’s not,” Matt insisted. “It’s just a fact.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Fabia said bitterly. “But I haven’t forgotten all my training. It doesn’t mean I’m a different person to the one who used to be your boss. Why ask me to help when this is your attitude? I just– I just don’t know what you want from me,” Fabia said, a crack in her voice.

  “I want your expertise, your perception, your wisdom, but I don’t want to stress you out by asking too much,” Matt told her, “and I also want your friendship.”

  “Is that all?”

  “What do you mean? Isn’t that enough?”

  “Oh Matt, I don’t know.”

  He pushed his long fingers through his hair, making it into even more of a mess, then he stretched a hand out and took hers. This time she didn’t draw away. His thumb stroking the back of her hand set up a tingling in her skin.

  As he began to speak again, he didn’t look at her but down at the table. “Do you remember,” he asked quietly, “years ago, must be about five years now, just after you moved in here after your aunt left you the house, I came to help you decorate this kitchen?”

  Fabia nodded but said nothing.

  “And I told you I wanted more out of our relationship, but you said no because we were colleagues and you knew how disastrous those relationships could be. You said you loved me, as a friend, a brother.” There was self-mockery and a touch of bitterness in his voice. “You told me the age difference didn’t matter, but there was no chance of anything more.”

  Still, she said nothing.

  Matt looked across at her and there was determination in his eyes. “I seem to remember telling you at the time that I wouldn’t give up hope.” The grip on her hand became tighter. “Fabia, I care about you. I want more than just this friendship, and that’s one of the reasons I keep coming back to consult you. I suppose it’s an excuse to see more of you.”

  “So, it’s not because you feel I have any particular expertise,” she said, and immediately regretted it.

  “Fabia! I’m trying to tell you I love you, that I want to be with you, and all you can do is go on about work and whether or not I respect your opinions!”

  Matt jumped up, grabbed her arm, pulled her up out of her chair and close against him, close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. For a moment they were both absolutely still, then he put a hand to the back of her neck, feeling the soft curling hair wrap around his fingers. Slowly he bent his head and, for the first time since they’d met all those years ago, when he’d been a lowly sergeant and she his inspector, their lips met in a kiss that was very far from a friendly hallo or goodbye. It was an exploration, gentle, tentative at first, but it didn’t stay that way. The kisses became deeper and more urgent and Fabia felt Matt’s hand slide up inside her jumper, move up her back, warm on her bare skin. For a while there was silence except for an occasional murmur, and then she came to her senses.

  “Matt–”

  “Can I stay?” Matt whispered.

  “No, no, I can’t–”

  “Please, Fabia.”

  She leant away from him, said more firmly, “No, love, not tonight.”

  He tried to pull her back close, but she said softly, “Matt, please, stop.”

  They broke apart, both breathing rather hard. Fabia leant her forehead on his chest. “Oh lord,” she said, her voice shaking. “That was not – um – not what I was expecting to happen this evening.”

  Matt gave a gurgle of laughter. “Nor me.” Then he added, “You said not tonight, does that mean another night you’d say yes?”

  She pushed him gently away. “Give me time to think, Matt, please.”

  “I feel as if I’ve been doing that for a very long time,” he said wearily.

  “I know, I know.” She took his hand, lifted it to her lips and kissed it. “And I promise I’m not just stringing you along. Look, can we just get through this case–”

  “We?”

  “You’ve asked me to talk to Bella. I can keep my eyes and ears open when it comes to the family, and I was planning to see if I can get proof of what I suspect.”

  “Oh no. Come on, Fabia, don’t start putting yourself in danger again.” He pulled her back into his arms. “I couldn’t bear it.”

  “Don’t be silly, Matt, that’s not going to happen. Who do you think is going to beat me up this time?”

  “If you don’t promise me you’ll be sensible, it may well be me!” he exclaimed, exasperated.

  “Then I’ll just have to report you to Dilys, and your career will be ruined.”

  He grinned and hugged her so hard that she thought her ribs would crack. Then, abruptly, he let her go.

  “If I don’t go now, I don’t guarantee being able to leave at all.” He took a deep, shuddering breath and stepped away from her. “I absolutely still want your help, understand?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ll speak to Bella tomorrow.”

  “Good, and let me know when Anjali gets back, I need to speak to her.”

  “Will do.”

  For a moment they stood there, uncertain of this new dynamic between them, then Matt put out his hands and clasped Fabia’s arms. “At least now you know I love you, and not just as a friend.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss and before she could respond he strode down the hall and out of the front door, closing it firmly behind him.

  It was a long time before Fabia felt calm enough to go up to bed and, even then, she lay awake until the small hours thinking about what had happened and wondering why on earth she hadn’t allowed Matt to stay.

  Chapter 21

  On Saturday morning Dilys arrived at work not long after Matt. She had become used to his moodiness lately and hadn’t been expecting anything different today, so being greeted with a broad smile and a cheery, “Hallo, Dilys, how are you this morning?” was something of a surprise.

  “Morning, sir.” She grinned. “You’ve got your happy face on today.”

  “What?”

  “Just saying,” she added.

  “Yes, well, I suppose I have,” he said, and returned the grin.

  Before sh
e could enquire further, they were interrupted by Chloe Daniels.

  “Sir, something’s come up on the stuff stolen from White Monk Abbey. A dealer in Cardiff, a man by the name of Carey Hutchinson, says he was offered what the customer said was a Fabergé egg, green and blue, gold embossed, about the size of a hen’s egg with a gold four-pronged stand,” she said.

  “Have you checked up on this dealer?”

  “Yes, sir. He hovers on the edge of what’s legal, known to us but not for anything in particular. I think he might want to get some brownie points. He says he was suspicious because the person who brought it in didn’t appear to realise the value of it. It’s not one of the originals, I did some research and they go for silly money, but he says it is pretty valuable. Apparently, the man told him he’d inherited it, but the dealer didn’t believe him.”

  “Did he say why not?” Dilys asked.

  “He said the man ‘wasn’t the type to own such a thing’, but I’m not sure how he could tell. He told the bloke he had a collector who might be interested, said he’d get back to him, then he phoned us.”

  “And did he describe this ‘type’.”

  Chloe glanced at some notes she’d made. “Male, around six feet tall, shaved head, snake tattoo on the back of his hand, well spoken with a Swansea accent.”

  “Observant, your dealer. Get Tom to bring up the mug shots of those pals of Cotter’s in the Welsh Dragon Soldiers outfit, then contact Cardiff. Ask them to go round and check if this dealer recognises any of them,” Matt said.

  “Will do, sir.”

  “They’re going to love us, giving them more work,” remarked Dilys.

  “Maybe,” Matt said, “but I’m sure we can return the favour some time.”

  * * *

  Saturday breakfast at White Monk Abbey usually saw all the family gathered in the kitchen, it was another of Nonna’s little rules, and it didn’t occur to Megan and Rodric that this Saturday should be any different.

  Nonna was already busy preparing the meal when Rodric came into the kitchen, dressed and ready for work. He was followed by Megan, looking exhausted and still in her dressing gown. They helped themselves from the old French coffee pot which, as usual, was keeping hot on the Aga, and Nonna put a plate of toast on the table.

  “Who wants what?” she asked, and added, without waiting for an answer, “you need to keep your strength up, Rodi, so you’d better have a proper breakfast, there’s bacon and lava bread keeping warm and I’ll do you a couple of eggs.”

  He didn’t argue.

  “Megan, bach, how about you?”

  “Just toast for me, Nonna.”

  “I’ll do you some scrambled egg to go with it. You need some proper food inside you as well.”

  Megan didn’t argue either.

  “You said you found Delma’s address book, Rodi,” Nonna said as she broke eggs into a bowl. “Have you found those phone numbers?”

  “Yes, but neither of them is picking up.”

  “I can’t understand why she went off without a word,” Megan said, “it makes it look as if she was responsible for–”

  “Let’s not go there, Megan,” Rodric said, his voice sharp.

  “But why not, Rodi,” Nonna said quietly as she ladled scrambled egg on to toast and broke two more eggs. “I have to say it does make it look bad for her, running away like that.”

  “Look. I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

  Both women, with a quick glance at each other, subsided without another word. With a sideways look at her brother, Megan changed the subject. “I managed to get hold of Anjali last night,” she told her brother, “and she’s going to come for a couple of days when she gets back from London on Monday.”

  “For goodness sake, Megan, isn’t that a bit hasty?” Rodric said, frowning. “I know we’ve got to have that meeting with John about the will, and obviously she’ll have to be included, but we don’t have to have her come and stay do we?”

  “I want her to come,” Megan said, digging in her heels. “She’s our niece and I think we should get to know her, and Nonna agrees. I’ve spoken to Fabia and she’s offered to pick her up from the station and bring her to us Monday morning. It’s all arranged.”

  “You might have asked me!” Rodric protested. But, before he could go on, Nonna intervened.

  “I think Megan’s right. It only needs to be for a couple of days. She’ll probably be going back to London soon anyway. I think your father would have wanted us to welcome her.”

  Rodi looked surprised at this reaction but didn’t comment further, he just added, “Delma said we should try to persuade her to reject her inheritance, are you thinking we could do that?”

  Megan shook her head. “I don’t think that would be right, it wouldn’t be what Da wanted.”

  “Let’s leave it for now. Eat your breakfast,” Nonna said as she sat down, took some toast for herself and spread it with butter and marmalade. “That’s settled then. Hopefully John will arrange that meeting soon. Has he suggested a date yet, Rodi?”

  “I’ve got to get back to him about it.” He glanced at Nonna. “It’s even more difficult now, with Delma not here. She should be there, she is my wife, after all.”

  “Well, since Anjali has to be there, and Garan and Bella as well, of course, you’d need to consult them. And, as you say, Delma should be included. You should keep trying to contact her then maybe leave it to John to organise. At least that takes the pressure off you,” she said.

  “I’ll do that.” A few minutes later he pushed his plate away, drained his coffee, and got up. “Thank you Nonna. I’ll go and call those two numbers again.”

  Megan and Nonna watched him leave but neither spoke.

  * * *

  Having slept for a few short hours, Fabia woke just after eight and lay there going over and over the events of the evening before. Deep down she felt a warm glow when she thought back, but overlaying that were doubts. Did she really want to sacrifice her independence? Her past experiences of being tied into a relationship had not been good. Wasn’t it safer to go on as they were? But she knew that wouldn’t be possible now. They’d taken a first step into the unknown, there was no way they could turn the clock back. And the thought of losing Matt made her feel sick. After a while she told herself to stop fretting about it, just get up and do something useful.

  As she threw the duvet back, her mobile rang. Her heart leapt, it might be Matt, but it wasn’t, it was Bella. “Hallo, love,” Fabia said. “How are things?”

  “Not so bad,” she replied, but her tone gave the lie to her words.

  “Have the police been back to talk to Garan again?”

  “No, and the uncertainty is really getting to him, but I suppose there’s nothing we can do about that. Look, Fabia, I really need to talk to you. I’ve been thinking back to conversations with Caradoc over the years and, well, there are things he told me that might be relevant to all this. I may be letting my imagination run away with me, I don’t know. I just need you to tell me if I am. Can I come around?”

  “Come now if you want. I was intending to give you a ring today anyway.”

  “I will. I’ll borrow Sheryl’s car.”

  “Okay, see you in about half an hour.”

  Forcing herself to push Matt to the back of her mind, Fabia had a quick shower and threw on some clothes. When she got downstairs, she lit the fire in the sitting room, and she’d just finished checking her e-mails when the doorbell rang.

  Fabia opened the door to Bella whose eyes were shadowed and her face paler than Fabia had ever seen it. She took her friend’s hand and pulled her into a hug, then released her and said, “Come on, we can sit by the fire, have some coffee and you can tell me what you need.”

  Once they were settled, Bella leant back in her chair and sighed. “It’s great to get away for a bit. I’ve been helping out in the pub and the gossip is off the scale. Sheryl and I are trying to protect Garan from it because he gets so angry. We keep telling him
flying off the handle won’t help at all, but it’s so difficult for him.”

  “And for you and Sheryl too. You’re right, it’ll be much better if he keeps as cool a head as possible,” Fabia said.

  “That’s what I keep telling him. The police have told him not to leave the area, which was a bit worrying, as if he’s going anywhere when he’s got a pub to run!”

  “I know, but they do have to warn people, they would have said the same to the rest of the family.”

  “I suppose.” Bella sounded unconvinced.

  “Some would do a runner no matter what responsibilities they had,” Fabia told her, then thought it best to change the subject. “You said there were things Caradoc told you – what exactly?”

  “Well, one thing he mentioned, and this was only a few weeks ago, was that he thought Delma was pinching stuff from the Abbey and selling it on. He said he was going to tackle her about it, and I wondered if that could be a motive, if he threatened to tell the police. Do you think she might have been responsible for killing him?”

  “It’s possible, and she of all of them at the Abbey could have had access to that tranquiliser. As it happens, Matt wanted me to ask you if Caradoc knew things were disappearing. Did he say exactly when?”

  Bella frowned. “It was around the time Delma’s brother turned up. He told me about that too. He was so angry, fuming about the fact she’d invited him without consulting anyone, and he loathed the man.”

  “Did he suggest that Mike might have been involved in the disappearances?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “But if Mike or Delma killed Caradoc, why did someone kill Mike?”

  “Well, that could have been Delma too; if he threatened to turn her in, that’d be reason enough, wouldn’t it?”

  Fabia frowned. “I suppose. But I’ve just got this feeling we’re missing something.”