Chapter 27
Alicia’s third visit to the Woollahra police station was not received as warmly as she’d come to expect. Instead of being shown straight through to Inspector Ward’s office, this time his sidekick, Roger, appeared and ushered her into the busy station and over to his messy, paper-strewn desk right in the middle of the room. He indicated for her to take a seat across from him and stared at her, trying to look tough. He didn’t succeed. Roger had a kind of cute, baby-face look about him, not helped by the dimples in his cheeks and the bald head. Bad cop was not his forte.
“I really need to speak to Inspector Ward urgently,” she said. “It’s about Arthur Parlour.”
Roger looked suddenly smug, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re one step ahead of you, Alicia. We’ve got Wanda Birchill in custody now.”
“It’s Wanda Birchin! Birchin! My God what is wrong with you people? You could at least get the poor woman’s name right if you’re going to lock her up and throw away the key. Anyway, that’s beside the point, she didn’t do it.”
He looked at her sideways.
“I mean it, Roger. You’ve got the wrong woman. Listen, can I ask you a question?”
He nodded tentatively.
“Was Arthur killed with a 9-iron?”
“Sorry?”
“He was hit on the head, right? Was it a 9-iron golf club?”
“A-ha!” He grinned smugly again. “No it was not. It was a putter.”
“Just as I thought,” Alicia said, wiping the smile from his face. “Come on, Roger, you have to get me in to see your boss. I know who killed Arthur Parlour, and it was not Wanda Birchill, I mean Birchin! Bloody hell, you’ve got me doing it now!”
*****
The Agatha Christie Book Club were now gathered at The Orient Express restaurant in Potts Point, a venue chosen as much for its name as its delectable, traditional Chinese cuisine. The food was outstanding, and it needed to be, this was a celebratory dinner of sorts. Thanks to Alicia’s keen eye, they had helped solve the mystery of Arthur’s recent murder. Sadly, however, Barbara remained missing so no one was popping the champagne corks just yet.
Rosa Lopez was now in police custody, under arrest for the murder of Arthur Parlour, and Wanda Birchin had been released and was no doubt home, licking her wounds and facing the wrath of a jealous husband. She probably had Alicia’s face on a dart board somewhere, and the younger woman felt a tinge of guilt which was being quickly washed away by cheap chardonnay and back slaps from her fellow book clubbers.
“You are truly amazing, Miss Finlay,” Claire said a little breathlessly as she took her seat, grabbed some chopsticks and began surveying the food. There was crispy skin duck, ginger beef, twice-cooked pork and a large platter of mixed entrees. She had arrived late, saying something about a “squabble” with her fiancé, and the group had let it go for now, even Perry who usually couldn’t resist a dig.
It had been a busy week for the amateur sleuths, and all of them were beginning to face growing impatience from partners, flatmates, work colleagues and the like. Alicia wasn’t even sure Max was still talking to her or Lynette at this stage. Not even homemade treats could cheer him up.
Anders had also shown up late, choosing the chair furthest from Alicia, and she was surprised to see him, offering him a curt hello, then returning to the rest of the group. She was in too good a mood to let him get her down tonight.
“So how did you know Rosa ‘done it’ so to speak?” Claire asked, her chopsticks settling on a vegetarian spring roll.
Alicia swallowed her mouthful of ginger beef and explained. “It was the missing photos and trophies, Claire. You know, Missy, you almost picked it yourself. Remember when you made that impromptu visit to Barbara’s house and we all got cranky with you? You said you felt like something was missing?”
“Oh my god, yes!” said Missy. “I couldn’t work out what it was, but something wasn’t right. So you think Barbara’s photos and trophies had been taken by then? Really?!”
“I can’t say for sure, but Rosa had probably started to remove them one by one so no one noticed. It was Rosa’s way of cleansing the place of the ‘demon wife’. By the end of the week there was no trace of her.”
“But why didn’t Arthur say something?”
“He probably didn’t even notice,” said Alicia. “I know that Holly hadn’t.”
“Oh, how simply depressing,” said Perry, waving a scallop in the air. “Poor Barbara, no wonder she was crying out for our help. Her family are monstrous!”
“One of them is dead, Perry, and the other’s an orphan,” said Claire.
“Doesn’t change the fact,” he replied, thrusting the mollusc into his mouth.
“Perry’s right,” said Lynette. “As Poirot says, it’s not unkind to say what the victim is like. In fact, it’s the kindest thing you can do if you want to catch their killer. Missy was on the ball there, too. Being honest about the victim helps to explain why they got bopped over the head in the first place.”
“Precisely,” he said, sneering at Claire. “If he hadn’t been such an utter bastard to Rosa, let alone his wife, sleeping with anything with a pulse, he’d probably still be alive and kicking as we speak.”
“Having an affair is certainly vile,” Claire said stiffly, “but it does not justify murder. No way.”
“Anyway guys, can we get back to the subject please?” said Alicia, throwing Anders a quick glance. He hadn’t yet said a word, was just staring at the table as he chewed his food, his jaw tense. She glanced away again. “Here’s how I think it went down, and the police tend to agree with me. Arthur was obviously having an affair with Rosa, I mean we can all accept that’s a given, judging by his track record. So, when Barbara disappeared, Rosa was overjoyed. She probably assumed that she now had Arthur all to herself. She could stop being the domestic slave and step into the role of mistress of the house. And in fact, that’s what we noticed. Suddenly she was always there, she’d dropped the apron, was dressing all sexy, acting like she owned the place. And, we now know, ridding the mansion of reminders of Barbara. She’s the one who sliced Barbara’s face out of the family photos. Took great delight in it, too, I can imagine.”
She turned to Missy again. “Once again you picked it and none of us caught on.”
Missy gave her an enquiring look.
“Remember you were raving on about your sister’s mother-in-law was it? The one who came in and took over?”
“Oh, yes, Mildred!” said Missy. “She was minding my sister’s kids for a weekend but acted like she’d moved in permanently, changing the radio station, the furniture. That was the exact same vibe I got from Rosa. She was acting like Lady of the Manor, except Arthur wasn’t buying it. I heard him tell her to get back in her box, or words to that effect.”
“Exactly! And you said she looked pissed off.”
“Majorly.”
“Right, and that’s probably when Rosa began to realise that Arthur was never going to marry her—no matter what happened to Barbara. It must have finally dawned on Rosa that she would always be seen as the hired help, just a bit of rump on the side.”
Perry sneered at Claire again. “See, utter bastard. So, what, Rosa followed him to the golf course?”
“Yep. We know that Wanda phoned Arthur earlier that fatal afternoon—the police have confirmed her call came in around 2:30 p.m. Holly was in her bedroom, heard the phone ring but didn’t answer it. My guess is, Rosa answered and then eavesdropped in on Arthur’s conversation with Wanda. That’s when she overheard Arthur say he wanted to rendezvous with Wanda during his afternoon golf game. Rosa must have been furious, perhaps she had thought she was now the only one. In any case, she followed Arthur to the golf course and then over to Wanda’s house.”
“But didn’t Wanda tell you nothing actually happened that afternoon between her and Arthur?” asked Lynette.
“Still, he was there long enough to kiss Wanda, and Rosa probably saw that. Worse still, he declared h
is undying love and demanded that Wanda break up with her hubby. He didn’t mean it, of course. Wanda said they always spoke like that to each other, it was just a silly game they played.”
“But Rosa didn’t know that.”
“Exactamondo!”
Lynette waved a waitress over to order more rice. “Anyone want anything else while we’re at it?”
“I’ll have some more wine,” said Anders, speaking for the first time.
“Oh and some more of those deep fried wontons!” called out Perry, as the waitress scurried away. “Wanton indeed!”
“Anyway,” continued Alicia, “Rosa must have spotted Wanda and Arthur kissing and become enraged. She then followed Arthur back onto the fairway, probably confronted him or, more likely snuck up on him unawares, and belted him over the head with the putting stick.”
“Not the 9-iron then?” said Anders and she looked at him surprised.
“No, that’s partly why I suspected Wanda was innocent. Without thinking she rattled off the word ‘9-iron’, it seemed really spontaneous. She told me she was just guessing and I believed her. If she had really done it, she would’ve known it was a putter and accidentally said that. It got me wondering. Then I spotted all those missing fridge photos and trophies of Barbara at her house, and that eerie family photo with Barbara cut out. That’s when it occurred to me: the only person who could have had access to them was Rosa.”
“Well, there was also Holly,” said Perry.
“You’ve always had it in for her, haven’t you?” said Anders.
“And you’ve always stood up for her,” said Alicia, eyebrows raised. “Want to explain why?”
He shifted in his seat, couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “No, I do not.”
“Something to do with doctor/patient confidentiality perhaps?” His eyes snapped towards her, surprised. “Holly told me today, Anders. She was pregnant with Jake’s baby, or at least she was for a few weeks before she miscarried.”
“Really?” said Claire. “So that’s what they were fighting about at the tennis court?”
“Yep. Holly wanted to tell her father and Jake didn’t believe it was even his baby.”
“Pig!” said Missy.
“You were treating her, weren’t you?” Alicia said to Anders, who now looked almost relieved, like a man who had been carrying a load for too long and had finally let it drop. “Holly told me she was seeing some city doctor. It has to be you. You obviously recognised Barbara that first day at book club, I could tell there was something there that you were hiding. Then, when we had book club at her house, you seemed a bit edgy.”
“I was worried about running into poor Holly. She didn’t need her doctor showing up on her doorstep. Luckily, we didn’t cross paths.”
“Actually, that’s not true,” said Alicia. “Holly did spot you out on the terrace and came back into the kitchen and screamed at her mother. I didn’t know what she was on about at the time but she thought her mother had deliberately brought you here, to taunt her I suppose.”
Anders shook his head. “Oh, God, I didn’t realise that. The poor thing. I really should not have attended that club meet, should have stayed away. Given her some privacy.”
“But how did you know Barbara was Holly’s mother if you hadn’t met?” asked Missy, scraping the dregs of the rice into her bowl.
“When I was treating Holly she explained how devastating this would be to her parents and I recognised their names from the social pages.”
“Why didn’t you tell us all of this?” demanded Perry.
Anders looked around at their startled expressions. “I’m sorry, guys, I couldn’t tell you. It’s against my oath...”
Perry looked disgusted. “We were dealing with murder, Anders. I think the Hippocratic Oath takes a back seat.”
“Look, if I really believed Holly had something to do with all of this I would have spoken up, I would have. But I felt for the poor child. She’s just a mixed up, screwed up kid who turned to an arsehole for love and was treated shabbily. When she found the courage to come to me she was extremely distressed. And she came to me in confidence, I couldn’t go around telling her secret to an entire book club.”
Perry snorted at this but Alicia felt some sympathy for the doctor. Something to do with a rock and a hard place.
“I understand that, Anders,” she said gently. “I also couldn’t believe Holly would kill her father. Niles had already told us she was a daddy’s girl, through and through. It just didn’t seem right.”
Lynette was over this line of conversation. “Look, I’m sorry about Holly, really I am, but didn’t you say it was a false alarm anyway, Alicia?”
Anders spoke up. “She was pregnant but only briefly. Obviously the stress of all of this has taken its toll.”
“Again, I’m super sorry,” said Lynette. “But can we get back to Rosa, please? I still have so many questions. Like, how did you know she followed Arthur to the golf course, Alicia?”
Alicia took a quick sip of her wine. “Well, like I said, Rosa answered the phone that afternoon when Wanda called. So Rosa is the one that could have overheard where Arthur was going. But most telling is the fact that she’s got no alibi. There’s no one to account for her whereabouts during that pivotal time, around 4:30 p.m. when Arthur was killed.”
The waitress appeared with a fresh bowl of steaming rice in one hand and the bottle of wine in the other. They made room for them and then she left to fetch the wontons.
“More wine anyone?” asked Anders, and several of them raised their glasses for him to refill. He did so then took a large gulp of the Sémillon and cocked one thick brown eyebrow at Alicia. “So, based on everything you said, the police simply released Wanda and arrested Rosa? I don’t mean to sound rude, Alicia, but a few missing happy snaps isn’t exactly a smoking gun. I mean, it’s all just circumstantial evidence.”
She glared at him. So that’s how he wanted to play it, eh?
“Yes, Anders,” she spat back. “I realise it’s not enough to convict a person. I’m not an idiot. I mean, a chopped up family photo doesn’t exactly incriminate anyone, and the police certainly weren’t taking my word for it. Inspector Ward thinks I’m a meddling pain in the backside as it is.” She gave Anders a particularly pointed look. “But the cops were already on Rosa’s trail.”
Several of the group glanced between Anders and Alicia, wondering what was going on, so she turned her attention back to them and softened her tone a little. “You see, apart from Wanda’s fingerprints on the golf club—she says she must have inadvertently touched it when he popped in during his golf game—they also found Rosa’s paw prints everywhere. The problem was, they didn’t think much of it at first because, well, she was the housekeeper after all. Her fingerprints would be on the golf clubs, especially if she cleaned them and put them away.”
“So why do they suddenly suspect Rosa now?” Missy asked, helping herself to the wontons that had just arrived. Perry snapped at her chopsticks with his own and then grabbed the bowl from her, smiling cheekily.
“Well, here’s the clincher,” said Alicia. “About the time I was talking to Roger—he’s my buddy down at the police station—his boss, Inspector Ward, was reviewing CCTV footage of the car park at the golf club. They have someone who looks a lot like Rosa on camera, leaving at precisely 4:37 p.m.”
She flashed Anders another look.
“Sprung!” said Missy excitedly.
“Exactly, and then with the evidence of the affair—apparently they found a bunch of saucy texts from Arthur on Rosa’s phone when they picked her up—it’s motive, means and opportunity.”
“The holly trinity!” gasped Claire, clapping her hands with delight.
Lynette sat forward. “What I still don’t get, though, is where Niles fits into all of this?”
Alicia shrugged. “He doesn’t, he’s perfectly innocent. At least, when it comes to Arthur’s death.”
“So why did he ram into Missy then?”
“What?!” screamed Missy and Lynette held a hand up to placate her.
“I’m being melodramatic. It was probably just a strange coincidence.” She proceeded to tell them all about Niles’ battered black BMW. “The more I think about it, the more I think that it has to be a coincidence. I mean, there has to be more than one old battered Beamer in this city, right? Otherwise it doesn’t make any sense.”
When Missy looked at her, not quite buying it, she added, “Why, pray tell, would Niles want to hurt you, Missy? He doesn’t even know you, does he?”
“No, I’ve never even seen the guy,” she said.
This seemed to relax her a little and she chomped on her wine glass giving it some thought.
Eventually, Anders sat back and said, “Well you Finlay girls have certainly done some good sleuthing. Especially you Alicia. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “We didn’t do this alone. We can all give ourselves a pat on the back. It was a team effort.”
“True, but having said that I hate to put a dampener on it all—”
“But you will,” interrupted Perry, glaring at him.
“Yes, I’m sorry but I will. Where, exactly, does all of this leave poor Barbara?”
The group turned to Alicia, hopeful she had the answers to this riddle, too, but she held her palms out, empty handed, then sat back in her own chair, deflated.
“Sorry, guys, but that I do not know.”
Chapter 28
“Rosa murdered Barbara!” Perry declared dramatically. “She must have. Surely this proves that she would do anything to have Arthur to herself. Must have kidnapped Barbara to get her out of the way, and stashed her body somewhere, probably up near Hornsby station.”
“That’s certainly what the police think, and they’re interrogating her as we speak.” Alicia hesitated. “I’m just not convinced.”
“Why?” he demanded. “This is categorical proof that Rosa has a violent streak. I’m just glad I didn’t spill any crumbs on the carpet last time we were there.” He mock shuddered.
The Agatha Christie Book Club Page 21
