Till Daph Do Us Part

by Phillipa Nefri Clark

  “I did. But it can wait until we go out for dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Thought it time we visited Bell’s Bistro.”

  Whatever have you been up to?

  “Why do I get the sneaky suspicion this has something to do with the priest?”

  “And the graveyard.”

  Daphne turned in her seat to take a better look at John. He glanced at her with a wink, then put his attention back onto the road.

  “All will be revealed. Tell me about the ceremony.”

  Although she’d much rather find out what he was keeping for later, she knew John wasn’t going to budge until he was ready to talk. He liked to think things through and be sure of his facts.

  “Well, it was sad and sweet. Steve’s parents said little. His poor mother barely let go of her husband’s arm and both are clearly still in a state of shock. The rest of the guests were his extended family, of which there are many. Lots of cousins, aunts and uncles, two brothers. And friends, some I recognised from the bridal party. Someone bought a generator and they plugged in a screen with images of him and some videos from different ages.”

  “I heard some music.”

  “Yes. He played in a local band and they sang his favourite song. Everyone joined in which was kind of surreal.”

  “How so?”

  Daphne smiled. “They’re a heavy metal band so it was more like screaming rather than singing. But at the end of it, there was applause and hugging.”

  The car turned onto the main street of the town.

  “John, would you mind stopping at the police station? I just want to ask if they need anything else from us before we leave tomorrow.” Daphne said.

  “I’m sure they’d call.”

  “This might sound odd, but I’d rather know so I can stop thinking about it.”

  “Worrying about it, I imagine. Of course we can stop.”

  The police station was quiet, with only Senior Constable Barber present. “You are on my list of people to phone this afternoon, Mrs Jones. Couple of things to cross off if you have a few minutes?”

  Daphne explained they only had another day here. “Just one more ceremony and then we have another wedding to attend some distance away.”

  “I have your report typed up if you’d like to sign it.”

  “Perfect.”

  The senior constable stepped away from the counter to collect the paperwork. “Sorry I haven’t rung earlier.”

  “No trouble at all, but can I ask, if anything needs to be added, should I sign it now?”

  “What might need to be added?”

  Daphne shrugged. “With the Brooker farewell ceremony tomorrow there’s always a chance I’d hear or observe something of potential interest.”

  “If so, we’ll make a new report. But don’t put yourself in a difficult position with them.”

  “I won’t.” Daphne signed where indicated. “Not likely to find me snooping around or peering through windows. But people do say things in front of me.”

  Senior Constable Barber made a copy of the report and gave to Daphne. “You’ve been helpful and we appreciate your co-operation.” She glanced around. “In case you were wondering about our interview with Lisa, seeing as you will be at her home again, we’ve excluded her as a person of interest. There are too many witnesses to all of her movements for her to have committed the murder.”

  “What if someone helped her?”

  “We haven’t ruled out an accomplice but can find no motive for Lisa to kill her new husband.”

  “Except a history of her husbands dying young.”

  “Not under suspicious circumstances though.” Senior Constable Barber picked up her copy of the report. “Our enquiries are continuing and we’ll have homicide detectives arriving to assist us in a few hours. As yet we haven’t located a weapon nor been able to track the phone used to call Steve. That lead is one we are appreciative of, Mrs Jones.”

  They took her seriously. “So you think whoever phoned him was behind his death? Persuaded him to go to the pool and killed him there. Stabbed him in the back and pushed him in.”

  “Daphne.” John put a hand on her arm. “Speculation.”

  “Not far from the truth though, Mr Jones. He wasn’t stabbed in the back but it appears he was lured to the pool. But whether the caller was the killer is unknown. Thanks to accessing Steve’s phone’s SD card we know the number of the phone that called him. Finding it would help but the owner filed a report more than a week ago of its theft.” The senior constable raised a hand as Daphne opened her mouth. “Before you ask, no, I am not at liberty to disclose the name of the owner.” Little lines formed around her eyes as she smiled.

  “Fair enough. Just one more question and I understand if it is off limits. I wondered if you knew where Bertie Brooker was when he wandered off?” Daphne asked.

  “One of the staff found him not far from the house. He was sitting under a tree waiting for things to quieten down.”

  “Catering staff?”

  “No. It was the Brooker’s groundsman. Dempster. Before you go, I’ll fetch your knife.” It was in a bag on her desk. “Matty, as a fisherman, should have excluded this on the spot. Too flexible.”

  John took it from her. “Appreciate having it back. Old favourite.”

  “Thanks again for your co-operation.”

  Outside, John took Daphne’s hand and they returned to the car in silence. Once they both climbed in, he grinned at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Are you certain being a celebrant is the right choice? Back in River’s End, Trev always talked about the fact Charlotte should join the police force and now I’m wondering if you also missed your calling.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of squeezing herself into a police uniform and wearing a badge. Much as Daphne respected those who kept the peace, it wasn’t for her. More likely she’d make a good private detective. One of those old-fashioned ones with a hat and coat and magnifying glass.

  “Does that sound okay?” John asked.

  Daphne suddenly noticed they were back in traffic. “Does what sound okay?”

  “Dinner about seven. Unless you have other plans.”

  “Nope. No plans other than dinner with my husband.” She patted his leg. “And it is my treat because you’ve run me around all over the place this week.” Best way to enjoy the extra money the Tannings had insisted she accept for the beautiful ceremony. “It feels nice to spoil you for once.”

  Bell’s Bistro, Bingo, and Bad Women

  It was just as well John booked ahead as the bistro was busy when they arrived a little before seven. Attached to one of several pubs in Little Bridges, Bell’s Bistro was a large family friendly restaurant on two levels, plus outside tables. And it was noisy, but in a good way with conversation and music trying to outdo each other.

  “I had no idea I was so hungry!” Daphne gazed around after they were shown to a table. It was a bit quieter here where a row of tables for two lined a long window. Up a couple of steps was a larger area with an indoor children’s play area surrounded by bigger tables. The atmosphere was friendly and happy. “This was such a good choice, love.”

  “Although I did have an ulterior motive for suggesting it.”

  John still hadn’t enlightened Daphne on why, nor shared even a word about his visit to the graveyard.

  “You look very pretty. I like the new top.” He said.

  Even after all these years married, the sweet compliment made her smile. She reached out for John’s hand and when he took hers, she held tight. “I love you very much.”

  “Are you ready to order drinks?” A voice interrupted. “Or shall I come back?

  They released each other’s hands. “What would you like, Daph?”

  “You choose.”

  John asked for a bottle of local white wine and the young woman disappeared towards the bar. By the time she returned, they’d selected their meals. After ordering, John li
fted his glass. “To discoveries.”

  “Oh. I like that. To discoveries!”

  They clinked their glasses.

  A waiter hurried past and Daphne craned her neck to see his face. Not Lloyd. If Lloyd was indeed the person from the wedding.

  “I wonder if he does work here.”

  “Not sure he needs to be part of your list anymore.” John said.

  “But he acted suspiciously. And had a wet shirt. And stared at me.”

  “Yes. All of the above. But he might have spilled something on his shirt. And been surprised when you appeared out of nowhere. And looked at you wondering if you’d report him for being away from his post. There’s always another point of view to consider.”

  True. He might not be guilty of anything other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And as far as she knew the police hadn’t been interested in her information about him.

  “Okay. Let’s say he had no part in…” Daphne glanced around, not wanting to be overheard. “the situation. What makes you think he isn’t?”

  “Not sure at all. But you’ve been looking for a motive and I may have one which so far, nobody seems to have considered.”

  “You do?”

  John told Daphne about his chat with the priest and the story of two men, once close friends, killing each other over the woman they both wanted.

  “Let me make sure I understand. This was a young woman employed by Richard Brooker to look after his motherless children. And he married her. After a bit, his best friend decides he is prepared to destroy a lifetime of friendship by luring her away.” Daphne said.

  “Pretty much.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Disappeared. I’m planning on digging around a bit to see if there is any record of her after leaving the area.” He picked up his glass. “Would you like to accompany me to the library in the morning and see if there are old records?”

  “Maybe. Still need to finish the Brooker ceremony. But, love, what happened between those men was decades ago. Generations. Surely it would be forgotten and everyone moved on. Bertie even had a business relationship with one of the Tannings.”

  “Father McIntyre was specific about the feud. A Tanning will never be anything than a thief. That is how the Brookers view the Tannings.” John said.

  “I guess if Bertie and Toby also had a falling out, old feelings might have emerged. I wonder if Bertie would discuss it?” He’d been nice enough when he visited Bluebell. “Maybe I can speak with him away from the rest of his family.”

  “Not certain that’s a good idea. Dredging up a terrible history on top of Steve’s death might upset him. What if we get onto the laptop after dinner and see what we can uncover?”

  The arrival of entrees stopped the conversation for a while. This was their last night in Little Bridges and Daphne had mixed feelings about the town. Too many sad and distressing incidents came close to outweighing the good ones. Like now. Best to live in the moment instead of the past.

  “This soup is delicious.” John put his empty spoon into the bowl with a look of regret. “Do you find the food in small towns rivals anything in the city?”

  “I do. Not that we’ve been to a city for…well, how long?”

  Neither could put a year on it. Their life in River’s End was busy and fulfilling so visits to Melbourne—the closest city but still several hours by road—were few and far between. There was a wedding coming up which would mean driving to the Mornington Peninsula and the best way was through Melbourne. And about the closest they’d get for a while.

  At the end of the row where they sat, a glass door led to other parts of the building, including a room Daphne could see. Its door opened and closed regularly as people came and went, offering glimpses inside of long tables.

  “Bingo night.” The waitress cleared their bowls. “Popular with the oldies.”

  At that point, Gina and Pat passed the glass door and went into the room.

  As soon as the waitress left, Daphne leaned closer to John. “I just saw Gina and Pat go in there.”

  He looked around.

  “Into bingo?”

  “I had got the feeling they didn’t live here.”

  “What made you think that?” John topped up their wine glasses.

  “At the other restaurant in the restroom, she said something about me not getting involved in her family’s town. As in, their town opposed to hers. I took it that she was warning me off Bob and Margaret. Maybe also because she reminds me of Margaret, more than the Brookers. The way she dresses and speaks is more city than country and I assumed she’d travelled here for the wedding, if that makes any sense?”

  John nodded. “It does. We’re safe to believe she’s Bertie’s sister, given she referred to Lisa as her great-niece when she spoke to you. No doubt she is well aware of the Brooker and Tanning history.”

  Staring at the closed door to the bingo room, Daphne wished she was brave enough to go and ask Gina exactly what she’d meant the other night. But the woman had made it abundantly clear Daphne wasn’t welcome. She’d even tried to quell the conversation around her table, telling the rest of the party a family feud was no reason to kill Steve.

  “John!”

  Her voice was louder than she’d planned but there was enough noise in the restaurant to stop anyone looking at her.

  “Doll?”

  “What if—and I’m assuming a lot here—what if the family feud is not the one about Bertie and Toby, but the old one. About Richard and Joseph? In which case, Gina and Bertie may very well have known their grandparents.”

  “And one of their grandparents would have been one of Richards’s children!”

  “Yes. What if the resentment towards the Tannings was so ingrained from a young age that Bertie made it his business to treat every Tanning as a thief?” Her mind raced. “But why would he then have one as a business partner?”

  “Necessity. Didn’t Margaret start to tell you he’d needed a partner?”

  “Yes. I need to talk to Margaret. She might be a bit odd at times but she’s the outsider, as it were and seems to want to chat to me. Do you really think I’ve been wrong all this time and the killer might be—”

  “You’re still in town.”

  Where did she come from?

  Gina sneered at Daphne. She’d left her little black dress at home and wore satin pants and a blouse with a plunging neckline. Around her neck were more pearls. Different to those she wore the other night.

  “We are.” John stood. “I’m John Jones, Daphne’s husband.” He didn’t extend his hand.

  The waitress appeared with their mains and worked around Gina to put them on the table.

  “When do you leave?” Gina eyed the plates.

  “Would you like to join us for a chat? I can arrange another chair.” Daphne offered with a wide smile.

  “Why would I?”

  “We’re history buffs and it would be wonderful to get some local information from a member of one of the founding families.”

  “The. The founding family?”

  “Of course. So I understand there was a falling out between the Brooker and Tanning families some time ago.”

  “Which is none of your business.”

  “True. But how interesting that three Tanning men have died and the connection, outside their relationship as cousins, is their choice of bride.” Daphne said.

  John hadn’t moved and now, he crossed his arms, his eyes on Gina.

  “More fool them.” Gina said. “It would serve you well to stay out of our business.”

  “Are you threatening my wife?”

  A sinister smile flickered across Gina’s lips. “Take it as you wish. And Daphne? Why not order more potatoes? Or are you saving room for later?”

  With that, the woman stalked away, almost running into a waiter who stopped dead in his tracks to avoid the collision.

  John sat, his brow creased. “Daphne, what a dreadful person she is.”

  �
�She hasn’t improved since we last spoke.”

  “Did you take her comment as threatening? I’m happy to call Matty.”

  Daphne’s stomach churned. “Let’s finish dinner and go home. It won’t be long until we leave.” But when Daphne lifted her fork, her appetite was gone. Mean words would do that to a person.

  A Missing Knife

  John Jones was not a man to anger without good cause. Nor to wish harm on another. But he wouldn’t have minded seeing Gina fall flat on her face. The warning shot was one thing, but to make it personal and bring Daphne’s choice of meal into it was appalling. How dare she attempt to make Daphne feel bad with such a low blow. And it had hurt his wife. She’d finished her meal but without the normal enjoyment and critique of the food, and when he offered dessert she shook her head and asked to go home.

  They walked back to the camping ground the same route as usual, stopping at the highest point of the bridge without a word. In comparison to the previous night, the sky was cloud-free. The river’s level had dropped from this morning and it flowed slowly again, its dark surface reflecting the lights on either end of the bridge.

  “This is such a nice town.” Daphne turned her back on the river and leaned against the railing, her eyes on the shops peeking through the buffer of trees and bushes. “From a landscape perspective it is. I adore the old buildings and these bridges are worthy of their own picture book. Pity about the residents.” Her voice was monotone and her face set.

  “I’m so proud of you, love.” John joined Daphne against the rail and put an arm around her shoulders. “The way you carry yourself, with dignity and kindness. It sets an example to those who use words to hurt and think so little of themselves that they seek to upset others.” She didn’t reply but her muscles relaxed and Daphne dropped her head onto John’s shoulder. “When people resort to low blows it says a lot about them.”

  “I know. But I came here on invitation. To celebrate a wedding. There is no need for such rudeness.” Daphne straightened and held a hand out to use her fingers to count on. “First was Steve. Saying he expected me to be younger. Then Bertie with his disapproval of my morals for officiating. And Gina. Not once, but twice she has sought me out to have a go at my weight.”