A Memory for Murder Mystery

by Ruby Loren

  “Ah oh… that’s good then,” the builder said, his broad Sussex accent shining through. He scratched his head for a moment, looking lost in thought.

  “You were telling me about pouring concrete for a parking space,” I prompted and his expression cleared. I was seriously starting to doubt that I would learn anything of interest at all from Cedric Jameson.

  “I remember it being decent weather for January. It was mild and not rainy, so I called Mr Abraham up and asked if he wanted that car parking space done. He didn’t sound so good over the phone but he said he still wanted it and that the space would be a big help, so I went over. I remember being pretty curious to see the place. I knew they were turning it into a zoo, but I couldn’t figure how they were doing it without builders. I’d met Mr Abraham a couple of times before, back when he was doing better, but he'd always said I had to come see the place for myself. Even the barn they were living in they’d done themselves.” He shook his head. “I thought it was weird, all that wood and mud and so on, but it did look pretty good. I’d already spoken to Mr Abraham about the job when he’d managed to come over to see me in person, so I just got on with my work. The old lady came out and asked if I wanted tea, which I said I did. At one point, I looked in through the window into the kitchen and saw Mr Abraham making some tea. I remember thinking he was on his way out. Why would I have thought that?” He frowned for a moment. “Oh right… he was wearing the black hat - the one with the brim. A bit after that, the young lad, Matthew came out to look at the concrete and asked a couple of questions. I told him the concrete had to be left to set overnight but should be okay by tomorrow and to watch his step until then. That was the last time I saw any of them.”

  “What did the police ask you?”

  “Oh, the usual stuff,” Cedric said, clearly not realising that raised all kind of red flags for a potential employer. I decided to let it slide. After all, I knew exactly what ‘the usual stuff’ meant, and I wasn’t a convicted criminal. “They wanted to know how deep the concrete was and if it was the same way I’d left it. I told them there was no way it had been disturbed. I know my own work, you see, and it was exactly how it’d been the last night. No one touched it. There’s nothing more that I can think of. I’ve told you what I told them.”

  “Thank you,” I said, surprised by the thorough report. Perhaps Jameson had been a lot sharper in the past and that was why he was running the company these days rather than doing the work himself.

  “No problem. You’ll let Mr Avery know Jameson Contractors would be very happy to provide quotes, won’t you?”

  “I certainly will,” I promised him, hoping that Auryn wouldn’t mind me using his name to get my own way. I reassured myself that my boyfriend was currently doing everything he could to promote the zoo using my comics as a selling point. We were probably even.

  On my way back from visiting Cedric Jameson, I realised I was going to be passing Laurel Cottage. On a whim, I decided to stop the car and pop in on Mrs Kendal. Perhaps she’d be able to shed some further light on what I’d found out over the past week or so.

  I knocked on the door and the same ‘who is it?’ rang out.

  “It’s Madigan Amos from the zoo. I just thought I’d pop in and let you know how it was all going.”

  The door swung open and the suspicious face of the old lady looked out at me. “What do you want?”

  “Just to give you a few updates. I thought you might be interested,” I said, wondering what had put her in such a bad mood.

  She hesitated for a moment more and then opened the door a little wider, indicating that I could come in.

  I walked through into her living room and looked around at the pickles and herbs with fresh understanding.

  “Mrs Kendal, I found a toy lion in the barn. Did it belong to you?” I asked, believing it was an innocuous question.

  “What were you doing poking around in there? It was all sealed off.”

  “Oh, a piece of the wall fell down,” I said, hoping I sounded blasé about it. “A member of staff had a look inside and found the lion.”

  “Hmmph,” was all she said, not sitting down on a chair. I got the message loud and clear. This was not going to be a long visit.

  “The zoo is going to open on schedule. All of the animals are in and things are going really well.” Then I jumped into the other stuff. “I had a thought I wanted to ask you about. I was just wondering if you knew where Rosalie Bridges is now? She might want to see the zoo finished?”

  “I don’t know,” Mrs Kendal said. “The last I heard, her parents were still living near Newport in Abergavenny. Heaven knows where they are now. I haven’t heard from them since it happened. There wasn’t any funeral, of course, and after the police had been so unhelpful she just drifted away. I don’t know anything more than that.”

  “I’ll have to see if I can contact her,” I said.

  All at once, the old lady’s demeanour changed.

  “You just won’t quit will you? I know you’re going round asking all of these questions. What’s wrong with you? You think you’re better than the police? My family is gone and they’re not coming back. Just let it lie!”

  I stared at the elderly lady, whose face was white with fury.

  “I didn’t mean to cause any offence…” I began.

  “Get out,” the old woman said before I could continue.

  I obligingly moved towards the door.

  “Coming here claiming to be working for the zoo when really all you are is a nasty gossiper. You’re just another one of those morbid idiots. I’ve had enough! It’s over! I want to live in peace. When will you people understand that?”

  “I am sorry,” I said, backing out of the door. I could understand Mrs Kendal’s frustration at being bothered over the years, but I was only trying to help. If she’d seen the terrible things they were doing with the barn… surely then she’d understand why I wanted to put a stop to it.

  “I heard all about that disgusting project you’re working on at the zoo. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You’ve got some sort of recording device on you and you’re going to use it. Well, I didn’t talk to those bloodhounds back then, and I won’t talk to you now. You may not use any of my words to promote your sickening amusement attraction!”

  I stepped back giving her enough room to slam the door in my face.

  Apparently Mrs Kendal did know about the ghost tour after all.

  As I walked back down her garden path towards my car I finally figured out what it was that had been bothering me ever since I’d spoken to Cedric Jameson.

  It was the wrong hat.

  Art Abraham had been wearing his going-out hat when Cedric had seen him, but that can’t have been what he’d been wearing when he’d disappeared, because it had still been hanging on the hook in their bedroom when Derek Hurst had looked around the barn the next day.

  If the family had gone out later that evening, it would have surely been included in Fiona Kendal’s eyewitness account she’d given to the reporter. But even if they had left the barn, they must have come back, because Mr Abraham’s going-out hat was still on the hook.

  I had no idea what to make of it.

  12

  Seven Minutes in Hell

  The first week of March turned out to be a strange one. I was still doing my best to finish my final review for Mellon Zoo, but it wasn’t coming along as quickly as I’d hoped - largely because I’d completely forgotten I had wall to wall press conferences and photo opportunities booked.

  My first traditionally published comic book was officially being released on March 5th, and after my webcomic had seemingly taken over the internet, the events booked to promote the release were piling up. I’d done my best to veto as many as I could, mindful of the obligation I had to Mellon Zoo, but my perceived exclusivity had just pushed demand even higher.

  In the end, I’d resigned myself to missing the week. Fortunately, Amanda had said it was fine for me to return after the boo
k’s release and continue my review then. I’d actually been pleasantly surprised by how understanding the normally stressed out zoo leader had been.

  Now here I was, in a fancy conference room in an upmarket London bar addressing a room full of journalists. I answered questions left, right, and centre about the inspiration for the comic, story line, and even which animals would be reappearing in future comics. I’d already had a small taste of this back before Jordan had got in touch with me to talk about becoming my agent. People had often messaged to let me know their favourite characters, but it was still pretty strange to have journalists asking me about what was essentially a bunch of thoughts in my head.

  I was still reeling when I walked off the stage and was met by Jordan.

  “That was perfect. You’re so good at this. I guess working at a zoo must help with all of the crowd-facing skills.”

  “Sort of. It’s more the consulting work. I actually have to speak to people when I do that,” I explained, still feeling a little lightheaded.

  Jordan smiled at me. “Well, whatever it is… it’s going great. Everyone is still talking about the book and momentum from the strips that went viral is growing rather than declining. When the book comes out on Friday, it’s going to be huge.”

  “What if people don’t like it?” I was suddenly filled with a horrible fear that the strips I’d done for the publishers somehow weren’t the same standard as my webcomic storylines.

  Jordan shot me a funny look. “We’ve already sent out a hundred review copies to top reviewers, and the feedback has been wonderful. Most of the reviews gave the book five stars and likened it to classics like Snoopy and Garfield but even funnier. You can’t get much higher praise than that.” He reached up and smoothed down a stray strand of my hair.

  I looked at Jordan in surprise, feeling his eyes focus on mine with a not very businesslike look.

  “Sorry, you never know when there’ll be more photos,” Jordan explained. I nodded, but I wasn’t entirely satisfied with his excuse. It wasn’t the first time I’d wondered if Jordan wanted to be more than just my literary agent. Whatever his aims were, our relationship was only ever going to be business related. Jordan may be a beautiful man, but I was in love with Auryn.

  My heart seemed to sing when I thought about my boyfriend, back home at Avery Zoo. He’d already called to wish me luck. Whatever cloud had been hovering over him when we’d spent Valentine’s Day together seemed to have drifted away. I was happy, and everything in life seemed to be going perfectly.

  Just so long as I ignored the other stuff. Stuff like… Lowell watching me from the back of the room while I spouted nonsense about my comic.

  During the break between groups of people (I was conducting interviews en masse) I resolved to ignore Lowell entirely. When Jordan had moved away to speak with Leona, who nodded approvingly at me, I headed for the snack table to see what food was put on for the press conferences of a future bestselling author.

  I picked up a pastry (all right… three of them) and smiled to myself. I wasn’t taking the bestselling author thing seriously at all. No matter what happened, I was still going to be a zookeeper. I thought all of this hubbub would pass in time. I took a bite of a custard pastry and reflected that - fortunately - I wasn’t the one who was really famous. It was my comic, and I was perfectly okay with that.

  I was just starting on my second pastry when I happened to look across the room and see Jordan and Leona walk out together. What caught my attention was Lowell, who immediately peeled off from his position at the back of the room and followed them.

  I stopped chewing my pastry. What if Lowell wasn’t here to keep an eye on me after all? What if he was following his true target right now? For the first time in my life, I popped an unfinished pastry in the bin and followed the vanishing three down the corridor.

  As I walked down the hallway I kept my ears open. Everything was silent. Even the lights were dim in this part of the building. I had the distinct impression that no one was supposed to be here. It was the perfect choice of place to have a quiet meeting. I hesitated for a moment, wondering what I would say if I happened upon Jordan and Leona, or even Lowell. I supposed I’d claim I’d been looking for them to ask a question about the next conference. Unlike Lowell, I had a perfectly good reason to be snooping around.

  I thought I heard the sound of footsteps off to my left and turned down the corridor. Halfway down, a door on my left opened inwards and someone grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

  The brief scuffle that followed was all too familiar.

  “Stop fighting me or you’re going to get us both killed!”

  I was transported back in time to when Lowell had said the same words the first time we’d been trapped in a dark room together. That time around we’d been in a shed watching a couple of criminals break-in to the animal food store at Avery Zoo.

  I reflected that a lot of things had changed since then, including my knowledge of Lowell’s real line of work.

  “Why are we in a cupboard?” I hissed, hoping that passed for being quiet. My eyes had adjusted to the dark interior and I hadn’t failed to notice the assortment of mops and buckets we were currently standing amongst. One wrong move and the whole thing would come crashing down… and what would our cover for being caught in the broom cupboard be? I thought I would rather come clean than let the ‘obvious’ explanation be the one that was accepted.

  “Jordan is not who you think he is,” Lowell said and then pressed his hand tightly over my mouth to stop me from replying.

  “No one’s around,” I heard Jordan say, what sounded like right outside the cupboard.

  “You checked all of the corridors?” Leona responded.

  “Of course, although I don’t know why we’re being so careful.”

  “Then you’re an idiot. In case you haven’t noticed, this whole thing is out of control. We agreed a print run of a thousand would be enough to do the job and then we’d drop the contract. You said this choice was convenient and it wouldn’t arouse any suspicion if we allowed her to carry on with her online comic - but now look at what your good deed has done. The stupid thing went viral and now we’re under more scrutiny than we’ve ever been. We’re having to act like a genuine publishing company!” Leona did not sound like a happy bunny.

  It was lucky Lowell had his hand over my mouth or I might have done something really stupid like gasp in shock - something that was apparently only a little more stupid than believing my publishing contract was the real deal. Was this some kind of big scam where they took all of my money? I had a million thoughts running through my head but none of them would answer why MI5 would be interested in a couple of small-time author scammers.

  “What’s the big deal? It might help us out. The bigger you are, the easier it is to fix the books so they look right. Who’s going to notice a few million slipping through the cracks? Especially when we’re paying the accountant not to look.”

  I couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of Jordan’s mouth. He’d been so nice to me. I’d actually started to consider him a friend and had suspected he might even want more than that from me.

  I was a complete idiot.

  If it weren’t abundantly obvious that we would get in unimaginable trouble if we were caught right now, I’d have asked Lowell what the heck was going on. How long had he known my publishing deal was a sham and not told me? Instead, I forced the personal hurt down and tried to think like a professional. I didn’t yet know all of the facts but some of them, at least, were being spoken right now… and hadn’t I wanted to know the truth all along?

  “We’ve had to take on extra staff. The office is supposed to be a temporary thing we set up and take down for visitors. Now we’re renting it permanently just to get all of these ridiculous orders done. I’ve got highly skilled operatives who make me millions of pounds a year dealing with press enquiries. Do you know how messed up that is?” Leona growled.

  I jumped when something thum
ped against the door. My shoulder knocked the handle of a mop and it began its silent fall to the ground… one second away from landing and revealing our hiding place.

  With catlike reactions, Lowell caught the mop handle on his foot and gently laid it on the floor. His grip became steel-like on my shoulder, but that was the only sign I had that he was sweating this half as much as I was.

  “You’re an idiot, Jordan. Your only job is to scout small-time writers and artists, tell them they’re a genius, and convince them to pick the cheapest publishing deal with the best ‘artistic freedom’ benefits. They get their deal and their advance. We print their books, we sell them at our prices, and we move on. We do not launch the next freaking J.K.Rowling! Did you know, I’ve had calls about a film deal this morning?”

  Jordan made a ‘ungh’ sound. I presumed Leona had grabbed him.

  “If I wanted to work for a living - any living - I wouldn’t have become the person I am today, do you understand?”

  “It’s not like we can do anything about it,” Jordan said, sounding huffy. “We’ve just got to go with it. Who knew that underworld business knowledge works just as well when you’re trying to be above board? It’s going well, isn’t it? We’re not losing money…”

  “I don’t care if we’re making it hand over fist! This. Is. Not. Our. Business.”

  “It’s okay, we’ve talked about this. We’ll sell the contract to another company - a real company.” Jordan was doing his best to sound soothing.

  “Oh, sure. That won’t attract any attention at all. A tiny unknown publishing company sees stars with their new signing and then inexplicably palms her off on someone else. Are you mad? We set this whole thing up to fly under the radar. You know we’ve already had a few glitches. The temperature’s rising,” Leona said, her voice filled with implication.