Chapter 7
“Bree!” shouted Allie, when she saw the woman was free. She was across the other side of the café, and Allie wanted to be loud enough to be heard. She certainly succeeded.
“Allie!” hissed Jackie. “Don’t shout like that.”
Bree stopped arranging things on the other side of the room and bustled towards them, a concerned smile on her face.
“Worked, didn’t it?” said Allie with a grin.
“I hate it when you’re like this,” said Jackie, the smile on her face belying her words.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes—” said Jackie, clearly intending to follow up with more.
“No.”
Bree’s eyes flicked across the two girls and then settled on Allie, with a ‘well then?’ look.
“It’s about Larry,” said Allie.
Bree’s face fell into a worried frown. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now. I suppose his son will inherit, and then who knows what he’ll do? Still, can’t do anything about it, so no use worrying. Though I do anyway. Worry.”
Allie nodded politely while Bree rambled on.
When she was done, Allie said, “The newspaper implied that I might have been involved in his death. And people have been giving me funny looks. So, I want to find out who might have actually killed him. We’re looking into his death.”
“Oh, my. That sounds like it could be dangerous. He was murdered, after all.”
“We’re just going to talk to a few people. No...” She struggled while she tried to think of some examples of more dangerous activities, “... horseback riding or unwashed lettuce for us!”
Bree nodded uncertainly. “Ask me whatever you want, but I doubt I’ll be of any use to you. As you know, I’ve only been here a couple of years myself.”
“But you knew Larry pretty well, right?”
Bree shook her head. “Not really. He didn’t even come in here much. I met him when I first rented the place of course. That’s really the only time I spoke to him properly, and then after that he came by twice for annual property inspections. Apart from that, I really didn’t see much of him.”
“What about Michelle upstairs?” asked Jackie.
“Yes, you should talk to her,” said Bree thoughtfully. “She’s been here for, ooh... twenty years? Something like that. She must have known him before he became just a grumpy old man.”
Allie immediately stood to her feet. “Thank you, Bree. Come on, Jackie.”
In order to get to the B&B, they had to leave the café and re-enter the building through another doorway, which immediately opened to a staircase leading to the second storey.
The staircase was lined with black and white photographs of Hawthorne from times past, when horses and carts were the preferred method of transporting goods. The village looked like it had been substantially busier than it was these days.
They caught Michelle in the hallway at the top of the stairs, a pile of fresh bedlinen in her arms. When she saw them approaching, she placed the bedsheets on a side table and offered them a smile. She knew what they had been through and had been extra nice to them.
“Good morning, girls. How are you getting on?”
“Good, except people think I’m a murderess,” said Allie with a happy smile.
“Oh, I’m sure they don’t dear. I saw the paper, and it didn’t actually say you were a killer.”
“Unfortunately, people like to read between the lines,” said Jackie.
“But there isn’t anything between the lines,” said Allie, shaking her head. “Otherwise they would be lines too.”
Michelle and Jackie both laughed at her ‘joke’.
“I suppose you want to head off back to London early, do you?”
“Nope,” said Allie. “We can’t leave until this is resolved.”
“Is that what the police said?” asked Michelle.
“The police? Oh, no. They have our home address and phone numbers.”
“So, you’re going to stay and weather the storm? I must say I’m pleased. I doubt I’d find anyone to take your room at this last minute. When I saw you coming towards me with those looks on your faces, I thought you were going to be checking out immediately.”
“Nope!”
“I’ll let you get on then.” Michelle made to pick up her stack of bedsheets again, but Jackie interrupted her.
“We wondered if we could ask you a couple of questions? About Larry?”
Michelle left one hand resting on top of the sheets like she was about to pick them up again. “Mmm?” she said, sounding as noncommittal as humanly possible.
“Can you tell us about him?” asked Allie. “What do you know? What was he like? Did he have any enemies that you know of? How old was he? What did he like to do? Wh—”
Jackie gave Allie’s arm a firm squeeze that stopped her dead.
Michelle had the look of a startled cat at the onslaught of questions overwhelming her.
She took a deep breath before answering. “I don’t know what I can tell you, really. I met Larry about fifteen years ago, when I—we, Harry and I—bought this place.”
Allie remembered Harry, albeit vaguely. He had been around when they were younger.
He was Michelle’s husband, and from what she could recall, he had been a rather difficult man. It had been more than a decade since he passed away.
“What was Larry like back then?”
“Oh. You know. Tough, racist, sexist and a bit of a mean streak. But he wasn’t all bad. He could be quite funny sometimes.”
“A mean, racist, sexist and funny man, huh?” said Jackie. “I guess he didn’t change too much over the years then. Though he wasn’t very funny when we met him.”
“He didn’t tell us a single joke,” confirmed Allie.
“Not that kind of funny. More... funny funny, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes,” said Jackie.
“No,” said Allie.
“Was he mean to everyone?” asked Jackie.
“He wasn’t always nasty.” Michelle flicked her head over her shoulder as if briefly considering heading deeper into her establishment, perhaps to offer them a cup of tea. But then she thought better of it. “After Harry died, he was understanding. He let me pay a month of rent late, until the life insurance paid out.”
“Wow, so kind,” said Jackie rolling her eyes.
It wasn’t that kind, thought Allie.
“And I heard he made quite a sizable donation to the Christmas food bank, last year. He was mean, but not always. There was an occasional patch of softness lurking underneath that gruff exterior.”
Michelle put both her hands under the pile of bedsheets.
“It looks like you’re busy,” said Jackie.
“I’ve got to get on, I’m afraid. No rest for the wicked!”
“You’re not wicked!” said Allie.
“Thank you, dear. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course,” said Allie with a smile. “We can talk to you any time since we’re staying here.”
“Right, of course,” said Michelle without enthusiasm. She gathered up the pile of sheets and held them under her chin. “See you later.”
Michelle turned away from them and hurried off.
“She didn’t seem exactly thrilled about talking to us more about Larry, did she?” said Jackie.
“No. No, she didn’t. Is that suspicious?”
Jackie shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows?”
“I think it might be,” said Allie with a nod. “Who wouldn’t want to talk to us more?”
“Good point. Come on! What’s next?”
“Well… next...”
Allie’s words trailed off with a frown. Her call centre work didn’t ever involve solving murders, so she was at somewhat of a loss as to what to do next.
“Ooh, I know. Let’s talk to Eddie.” Jackie seemed positively enthused at her idea.
“Eddie? Who’s Eddie?” Allie didn’t kn
ow anyone called Eddie in Hawthorne.
“Eddie Biswas. You’ll see,” said Jackie with a mischievous smile. “You won’t be able to stop seeing, in fact.”
Before Allie could reply, Jackie had already started back down the stairs, two at a time of course.
“Slow down!”
Of course, she didn’t.
Chapter 8
It turned out that when they had been interviewed by the police, the interviews had been conducted by different police officers.
While Allie had been interviewed by an iron-haired female police officer, Jackie had been interviewed by the so-far mysterious Detective Inspector Eddie Biswas.
Allie deduced they had been interviewed separately for procedural reasons; if they were separated, they wouldn’t be able to consult with each other about their stories. Real criminals who were lying would probably end up with conflicting stories, leading to them being found out.
Jackie had a different theory.
She thought that the murder was so exciting for these country police officers that they all wanted a piece of the action—even if the action was merely interviewing the two women from London who found the body.
“So, while I was being interviewed by a woman as tough as old boot leather, you got this handsome Eddie?”
Jackie wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “Not just handsome—tall, dark, and handsome.”
“Ooh, I do love clichés,” said Allie with a smirk.
“I’m telling you—you’ll love him. In the interview room, he had three different pencils!”
“Pencils? Am I into pencils?”
Jackie punched her on the arm. “But get this: he lined them up, perfectly perpendicular to the edge of the table, and all of them were sharpened to a precise point.”
“Ooh. Okay, he sounds all right. Were they arranged in size order?”
“You know it!” Jackie punched her on the arm again. “Smallest on the left, largest on the right.”
“Okay, I admit it. You’ve grabbed my attention. It’s hard to find people with any sense of... rightness.”
“That’s how I know you’re going to just love him! Here we are!”
They had arrived at Hawthorne’s police station.
It was, like every other building in the village, built from the local grey stone that gave it a sturdy, timeless look. When buildings like this were well maintained, it was hard to tell the difference between a mere hundred-year-old “new” building and one that was pushing five hundred.
“Are you ready?” asked Jackie with a mischievous grin.
“Bring him on!”
But before they could venture inside, the object of their mission, if not their desires, emerged from within.
“There he is!” said Jackie in a loud whisper, poking Allie with a sharp finger at the same time just to make sure she noticed.
Allie looked at the man exiting the police station.
Him?
There was nothing objectionable about his appearance.
He was indeed quite tall, he was dark, and his features were roughly as you would hope them to be. But there was no wow factor, at least not for Allie. So, it was with a mild sense of disappointment on her part that they greeted him.
“Hi again, Eddie!” Jackie stepped forward to meet him, hand outstretched.
Just as he went to take it, she went insane, at least in Allie’s opinion, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug instead of giving him the professional handshake that Allie, and seemingly Eddie, had been expecting.
“Ugh, whuh—hello,” mumbled Eddie in a confused word jumble as Jackie squeezed the life out of him. For a moment, Allie thought she might even lift him off the ground. Instead, it was Jackie who gave a small little mid-hug hop.
When Jackie finally let go, Eddie stepped back rapidly from her, an expression of mild panic on his face.
“This is my sister, Allie,” said Jackie, seemingly oblivious to the discomfort she had caused him. “She’s not my real sister. Our family adopted her after her—” Jackie realized she was jabbering and simply stopped speaking, closing her mouth and keeping it shut in a tight line.
Cautiously, Eddie stepped towards Allie.
He stopped a couple of paces away, as if worried she might try the same kind of greeting. He needn’t have feared. Allie didn’t even like handshakes.
“Allie,” she said shyly. Her shyness wasn’t because his looks intimidated her, but due to embarrassment caused by her sister.
“Eddie Biswas,” he answered. He didn’t extend his hand to shake, and Allie was pleased about that.
“We were wondering,” said Allie, “could we talk to you later? About Larry, and, well, everything?”
“I probably shouldn’t. It’s an active case. And you two are still suspects.” He paused for a moment, as if considering. “But your alibi—that you were still driving at the time—holds up, so far. So, why not?”
All three of them smiled.
“You’re staying in the B&B, right? Do you know Bree’s Café?”
“Know it? We practically live in it,” said Jackie with a wide grin.
Allie shook her head. “Surely it’s the B&B we practically live in.”
Jackie frowned at her, while Eddie flashed her a grateful smile. He understood what she meant.
“How about I meet you guys there later? Have you ever had the cream tea?”
They both shook their heads. Jackie wasn’t exactly the cream tea type—too many carbs or too much fat, she’d always say.
Allie never quite grasped what it was they were supposed to eat or avoid eating, no matter how often Jackie tried to tell her. Allie had a sneaking suspicion that Jackie’s dietary advice actually kept changing, since she found it hard to remember despite her good memory and love of details.
In the end, Allie had never ordered the full cream tea herself because it wasn’t the kind of thing you did by yourself, was it?
“If you’re up for it, we’ll have a cream tea later and a little chat.”
“Brilliant! Allie will look forward to it, won’t you?”
“I like tea. I like cream. I like scones. I’ll definitely look forward to it!”
Jackie nudged her in the side, but Allie didn’t get the hidden message this time.
“Great, then I’ll see you later.” Eddie was looking directly at Allie as he spoke and smiled at her as he went to leave.
Jackie stepped towards him. Allie worried that she was going to try and hug him again.
Fortunately, Eddie’s defences were now up, and he stepped around Jackie and gave her a gentle pat on the arm as he did so, quickly hurrying past both of them and heading off down the High Street in the opposite direction from which they’d come.
“I wanted to hug him goodbye,” said Jackie with a frown.
“I know you did,” said Allie.
“To be polite.”
Allie snorted. Even she knew that wasn’t true. She turned to face her sister, took her by the arms, and stared into her eyes.
“Jackie.”
“Yes?”
“You’ve got a crush on him.”
“Eh? Me? No way!”
Allie nodded her head up and down three times, slowly and seriously, the barest hint of a smile turning up the corners of her lips.
“Oh yes, you do. All that nonsense about him being perfect for me—you were projecting!”
“But he’s so much like you!”
Allie cocked her head and gave her a smile that was more mischievous than amused.
“And that’s precisely why you like him.”
Chapter 9
Jackie went for a run before their afternoon tea meeting, while Allie stayed in her room reading. A couple of minutes before the clock struck four, Jackie knocked on the door to Allie’s room.
The first thing Allie said as soon as she opened the door was, “Why are you wearing makeup?”
“You noticed.”
“Of course I noticed. I notice everything.”
Jackie’s sigh of agreement showed that she knew she was busted.
“And you’re...” Allie ran her eyes over her sister while she contemplated the correct word. Jackie was wearing jeans rather than shorts or tracksuit bottoms, and a tight T-shirt that didn’t quite scream ‘I’M FOR EXERCISE!’ at the top of its cottony lungs like most of her apparel. “...dressed up?”
“Do I look foolish?”
“No! No way! You look great.” Allie gave Jackie’s arm a supportive squeeze and could feel the hard muscles of her bicep right under the skin.
Jackie beamed back at her. “Come on, let’s go.”
When they entered the café, Eddie was already there, sitting at the front right-hand table. Allie was pleased to see that he had chosen the correct spot—the only other occupied table was the front-left one, and Eddie had chosen the spot that was symmetrically opposite.
Smooth move, Eddie, thought Allie with satisfaction.
He stood up when they entered and awkwardly reached across the table to push out the two chairs on the opposite side. One of them almost toppled over after catching on the floor, but he managed to catch and steady it just in time.
It was a shame there weren’t four of them, or so Allie thought as she sat down. It had been the same problem when they’d been sitting with Grandma Em: one side of the tables was unbalanced.
Bree came over and took their order as soon as they sat down: three cream teas.
“You’re very lucky, Eddie,” said Allie.
“Oh? And why’s that?”
Allie poked her sister in the arm. “She never eats cream or scones or anything like that. She’s a health nut.”
“Hey, I’m not a nut. I just like to take care of myself. You’d do well to follow my example.”
“Oh, I’m an addict,” said Eddie with a self-deprecating smile.
“An addict? Drugs?” Allie’s expression was of shocked wide-eyed innocence.
Alarmed at Allie’s response, Eddie’s eyebrows flew up and his denial was fast and confused. “What? No! I mean, a cream tea addict!”
The girls giggled at his panicked reaction.
An Alibi A Day Page 5
