It was the 21st email that caught her eye. Her English publisher had an idea for her next project and wanted to run it by her. She clicked the email open but only got as far as the first sentence.
“You’re hitting summer over there,” he wrote, “just wondering whether a Spa Special might be in order?”
That’s when all her good intentions went awry.
Alicia sat back, eyes wide, then clicked the email shut, grabbed her handbag, and retraced her steps. Ginny was still giggling beside the courier, who clearly wasn’t living up to the ‘Express’ part on his contract. Or was this another courier? Alicia wondered, giving Ginny a quick wave and marvelling yet again at her strike rate.
“Where you off to now?” Ginny called out but there was no time to explain.
Thanks to her publisher’s email, Alicia had finally remembered where she’d seen the word ‘Hydro’ and why it had rung a bell. She had to get back to the Parlour house, and she had to get back there pronto.
On the way Alicia put a quick call in to her sister who was also in transit, this time making her way back from Balmoral Beach.
“Just letting you know where I’ll be,” Alicia said. “I brought the car to work today, haven’t got the energy for pubic transport, so I’m driving there now.”
She glanced down at her thighs and scowled. They had been sorely neglected of late. Perhaps it was time to renew her gym membership?
“Great,” said Lynette, her voice just slightly crackly, “but why don’t you take someone with you? Give Anders a call.”
“Anders? Why should I?” She felt her hackles rising. “I don’t need a man to protect me.”
“Easy, tiger. I’m just saying, might be more fun that’s all. I thought you and Anders were, well, you know...”
“Well you’re wrong,” she said. “How many times do I have to tell you, there’s nothing going on between us. He’s married.”
“Yeah, about that, I think you have that all wrong—”
“No, no I do not.” She calmed her tone a little. “He told me so himself, just yesterday. Besides he’s not very interested in all of this.”
“All of what?”
“This investigation. Barbara Parlour. I think he’s about to quit the club.”
“Really? That’s not the impression I got.”
“Yeah well that makes two of us then. How’d you go with Niles?” She wanted to change the subject, was not interested in Anders’ behaviour right now.
“It was very interesting, actually.” Lynette relayed the words Niles had said about his sister and her bitterness towards her husband. “But there’s one really big thing I have to tell you.”
“You better be quick, I’m almost there.”
“Okay, okay,” said Lynette who then lowered her voice as though avoiding eavesdropping fellow passengers. “So remember what Missy said about her hit and run the other week?”
“Missy? What does Niles have to do with Missy?”
“Just humour me. Do you remember what she said or not?”
“Yes, she said some hoon in a dark BMW tried to take her out. Why?”
“I know a hoon with a black BMW. And it’s got dents all over it.”
“Oh my God! Niles?”
“The very one.”
Alicia gave this some thought. “But... but why would he want to hurt Missy? That’s illogical. As far as I know they’ve never even met.”
“Good question, I have no idea,” said Lynette. She sighed long and low. “Look, the more I think about it, the more I think it has to be a coincidence. A strange one, that’s for sure. Still, it’s worth noting...”
“God my journal’s turning into a novel with all these ridiculous little ‘notes’ that seem to add up to diddly squat. Oh, I’d better go, I’m getting close and no doubt there’ll be coppers swarming the place. Don’t want to get done for phone-driving!”
“Okay, fine. Just be careful, Alicia, okay?”
She promised she would then hung up and began searching for a park.
Despite Alicia’s expectations, there wasn’t so much as a flimsy blue and white ribbon anywhere near the Parlour mansion when she arrived and the media had all cleared off. She felt a rush of relief as she walked up to the front door and pressed the now familiar buzzer. Then a sudden flash of panic.
She imagined Arthur swinging the door open, a bloody gash across his head, a frown upon his forehead, ready to berate her yet again for interrupting his perfect, polished life. Alicia felt deep regret. What had she done to the poor man? Why hadn’t she left him alone? Maybe he’d still be alive if she had?
A second later, much to her surprise, Holly answered the door. While she was very much alive, Holly was dressed today like someone from the living dead—black top, black leggings, black tutu over the leggings, giant black, stomper boots on her feet, and thick black eyeliner smudging her eyes. She had also put a purplish-black tint through her already dark hair, which was hanging in greasy strands around her face, and there was a poorly drawn tattoo of a tiny black cross on her arm that Alicia hadn’t noticed before. She was either in deep mourning or had turned emo overnight but in any case the look did not suit her.
Alicia felt her heart pang for the poor, confused child.
“Hi Holly,” she said, trying not to stare at her gothic transformation. “I’m so sorry about your Dad.”
“Really?” said Holly, her upper lip curling slightly. “I thought you were gunning for him.”
“Not at all! I was just trying to find your mum, that’s all. How are you holding up? I thought you were staying with friends.”
“No way, man! Heidi’s mum treats her like a child, much better here. Besides, I’m, like, 16 you know, old enough to live on my own.”
“Rosa’s not here?”
“As if! Took off days ago.”
“Really? Isn’t that odd?”
“Nope. Why would you stay around this place? It’s cursed.”
“So who’s going to look after you? I mean, I know you can look after yourself and all...”
She pulled a face. “My Dad’s sister Harriet is on her way from Adelaide. Yawn.”
“Well, it’s probably for the best.”
“I’m not scared being on my own. They did catch the killer, you know.”
“So I heard. Wanda Birchin, apparently. That’s if she did it.”
“’Course she did it! The cops told me Dad’s fingerprints are all over her house, and, get this, her fingerprints are, like, all over the golf club that killed him! So CSI.”
“Which golf club?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“Was it a 9-iron?”
Holly had that you’re-a-nutter look on her face again. “Who gives a shit? Whatever it was it killed him...” She choked back a sob now, tried to fight it, determined not to cry in front of her mother’s boring friend. “I always thought Wanda Bitchface was dodgy. Always real sleazy with Dad when she called up.”
“I heard she phoned your house the day your Dad died. After lunch some time. Did you answer it?”
“Why would I? That’s Rosa’s job. Well... it was.”
“So Rosa was still around then?”
“Dunno.” Her claggy black eyelashes scrunched together. “What’s it all got to do with you anyway?”
“Listen, Holly, I’m not trying to be sneaky or get the goss. I genuinely want to help; all of us at your mum’s book club do. We’re good people and we want to find her. You do want to find your mum, don’t you?”
“’Course I do!” She sniffed loudly. “I thought she was just being a cow. But now, well, after they found Dad...”
Unable to dam the flow any longer, Holly began to cry, great gulping, snotty snobs, and Alicia pulled her into a hug. The young girl did not fight back. She might think she’s all grown up, but really Holly was still very much a child. Still reeling from her mother’s mysterious disappearance, her father’s death must have come as an enormous shock.
No amount of te
enage bravado, or gothic gear, was going to change that.
After a while, Holly struggled free looking excruciatingly embarrassed and glanced around as if worried someone had seen her.
“Can I come in?” Alicia asked gently. “There’s something inside I really need to look at. I promise, it will help your mum.”
Holly wiped a hand across her nose and let her in. Alicia headed straight for the kitchen fridge and the magnetised advertisements she had seen there the day that Barbara hosted that first official Book Club.
It was just as she’d expected. One of the magnets was advertising a luxury spa called the Hydro Majestic in the Blue Mountains, just northwest of Sydney. She scooped it off and studied it.
“What’s this got to do with anything?” asked Holly, snatching it from her.
“Did your Mum know anyone at this spa, the Hydro Majestic, do you know?”
She shrugged. “Her usual place was the Golden Door up in Queensland. Why she needed to go to a spa when she did f-all I’ll never know.”
Holly stopped, bit her lip and choked back a sob. Bitching about her mother wasn’t so much fun now that the poor woman was missing.
“Oh, where is she?!” she wailed again. “Where could she be?”
Alicia gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I’m not sure, Holly, but I have a hunch this place holds the key. Can I keep this?”
Holly shrugged, handing it back. Alicia was about to turn away when something else on the fridge caught her attention. Or, rather, something that wasn’t there.
“Where are the pictures of your mum, Holly?” she asked.
Holly followed her eyes to the fridge and her own eyes widened a little. The usual cluster of family photos were still there, but this time only those of Arthur and the young Holly. There were none of Barbara.
“Hm, that’s strange. Wonder where Mum’s pix got to...”
“Did she maybe take them with her, that Saturday she left?”
Holly shook her head furiously. “Nuh, I definitely saw them after that because I was so narky with her I wanted to take them off and rip them up...” She must have seen Alicia’s startled expression. “But, hey, don’t look at me, I didn’t touch them! I swear!”
“Then who did? Your Dad?”
She shrugged again. “Maybe, he was angry, too. Maybe he wanted to get rid of her.”
“Yes, except he told my friend Missy that he wanted your mum home, ‘back where she belongs’, so why would he remove her photos?” She had a sudden thought. “Did someone give them to the police or the press, for identification, maybe?”
Holly thought about this. “Maybe. I know I didn’t, and it’s not like I’ve seen them on the news.”
Alicia hadn’t seen them either. The pictures of Barbara she’d seen on the TV news had obviously been taken out of an old photo album circa 1982. “Do you mind if I look in the lounge room?”
Without waiting for an answer Alicia strode through, and gasped aloud. Several photos of Barbara had also been removed from the top of the mantelpiece and the side table, and her trophies for tennis and acting were also gone. Then she spotted the stilted family portrait that was hanging above the grand piano, and froze. This time, instead of a cheesy picture of three faux happy people, she saw just Arthur with his daughter standing in front. Alicia stepped towards it to take a closer look, and gasped again.
Barbara had been crudely chopped out of the frame; you could still see a little of one shoulder and part of her bleached blond hair.
Someone had sliced the rest of her away.
“Oh my God!” said Holly, behind her, a nail-bitten hand to her mouth. “That’s creepy! It’s like someone’s trying to get rid of her.”
“That’s exactly what it’s like,” said Alicia, turning back to Holly. “When was Rosa last here?”
“Rosa? Um, I dunno, the cops came around on Thursday night to tell me about... um, about... Dad.”
“And was Rosa here then, Holly?”
“No, she’d taken off.”
Alicia blinked several times. “So when did Rosa actually leave?” Holly shrugged non-committal. “This is really important, Holly, try to think. Let’s start at the beginning. What time did you get home the Thursday that your father died?”
“Okay, okay, take a chill pill. Um, I’d been at school, and got back about 2-ish—we had, like, a free period after lunch. Um, that’s right, Rosa was here then, had just made popcorn so she gave me a bowl. I don’t know after that as I went up to my room to, you know, hit the computer and shit. Dad was still around when I got home, too, but he told me he was heading off to play golf and would see me later for dinner... I didn’t think anything of it...”
Alicia needed to keep the girl on track. “So when did you next see Rosa?”
She considered this. “Um, that’s right, I came down to watch Neighbours on the big screen.”
“So what, that’s on about 5:00 p.m?”
“Yep. Dad was gone but Rosa was still here. As soon as I came down she said she had to leave, that she had a family crises or some bullshit story. She had, like, a suitcase with her. I knew she was pissing off for good. Knew it was gonna happen sooner or later. I mean, like, we were the cursed family with the missing mother...”
Alicia gripped her by the shoulders hoping to ward off another tearful outburst.
“Holly, this is extremely important. Tell me, do you know if Rosa was home before Neighbours started, around 4—4:30 p.m? Did you see or hear her anytime between 2-ish when you went to your bedroom, and 5:00 p.m. when you came down to watch TV?”
Holly looked a little alarmed now, choked back a sob. “I don’t know! Honest I don’t! As I said, I was in my room then, had my earphones on listening to some iTunes and stuff. I came out just after Neighbours had started. What’s all this about? Why you asking all these questions about Rosa?”
Alicia gave Holly’s shoulders a squeeze. “Not sure Holly, but if Rosa comes back, call the cops. Got it?”
Holly’s eyes filled with fear and she looked 12 all over again. Alicia glanced at her watch. It was lunchtime. She had to get Holly out of here. Just in case.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at school now?” she asked.
“Yeah, like, so?”
“So it mightn’t hurt to go, be a good distraction from all of this. Must be pretty lonely here by yourself. Be good to see your friends.”
Holly thought about this, did a half shrug. “Jake was gonna come over... hours ago.” She sniffed. “He’s ignoring my calls, my texts, I thought he... Like, I just thought...”
She let the sentence dangle and Alicia pulled her to the couch and forced her to sit down. “What’s going on with you guys?” she asked softly and Holly just looked away.
It was time to get some straight answers, Alicia decided, so she said, “It’s pretty obvious you two were having an affair.”
“It’s not an affair!” she scoffed. “We’re not, like, 105 or married or something! Besides, he loves me.”
Alicia felt her heart break for the foolish young thing. The first in a long line of heart breaks, she wanted to tell her but said, instead, “Jake Smith loves no one but himself, Holly, I’m sorry to tell you that. I wouldn’t be waiting for him to come rescue you.”
“I’m not!” She looked indignant, but there was vulnerability there, too, in those smudged, black-lined eyes.
“So what were you screaming about with Jake that day Claire and I saw you on the tennis court?”
Holly automatically reached for her stomach, a blush creeping across her chubby cheeks, and the penny finally dropped.
“Oh, I see,” said Alicia softly. “You’re pregnant.”
Holly dropped her hand and scowled. “No I’m not! Or... at least, not anymore. I thought I was... I was just late.”
“So that’s what you were screaming about? You wanted Jake to tell your Dad that you were pregnant with his baby?”
“But he wouldn’t! Said he couldn’t even be sure the baby was his! Like I
’m some ho’! Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. He doesn’t even want to know me anymore. I thought... I thought he loved me...”
She sobbed heartily again and Alicia sat there for several minutes, this time letting her get it all out.
“You know, the world is made up of good guys and bastards,” she told the crying teen. “Jake falls into the second category. Always did, always will. You’re better off without him.”
She sniffed loudly. “That’s what Mum said.”
“Your mum knew about—”
“No way!” She looked mortified, swiping away the tears. “Well, I dunno... she might have suspected, I’m not sure. But I didn’t want her to know. That’s why I went to see a different doctor. One my friend Sara goes to in the city. He’s really cool.”
For Alicia, another penny dropped, but for now she let it stay there as Holly rattled on.
“I couldn’t go see Mum’s doctor, stupid interfering biddy. She’d dob me in for sure, tells Mum, like, everything. But I reckon Mum’d worked it out anyway. Told me Jake wasn’t, like, good enough, responsible enough. I told her where she could shove that.” Tears began streaming down her face again. “The last time I saw Mum I screamed at her! Dad didn’t fight with Mum the day she disappeared, like all the TV shows are saying. I did! It was me!” She gulped hard. “Dad didn’t tell them that because he was trying to protect me. He was a good man, he didn’t deserve...” She broke off and sobbed some more.
Alicia waited a few minutes then grabbed the girl’s hands and pulled her up. “Come on, you’re going to school. Go and pop your uniform on and I’ll drop you in. Honestly, even algebra has to better than sitting around here moping all day.”
Much to Alicia’s surprise, Holly did as she was told, returning after ten minutes in a crumpled uniform, hitched too high above the knees, and her backpack slung across one shoulder. She had tied her black hair into a tight ponytail on top of her head, removed the nose ring and covered up the tattoo, clearly not de rigueur at her swanky private girls’ school.
Within 20 minutes Alicia had dropped Holly off and was making her way to the Woollahra police station. She had just solved the case of the dead husband, and the police had it completely wrong.
The Agatha Christie Book Club Page 20
