Till Daph Do Us Part

by Phillipa Nefri Clark

  “Once I have my phone I am never leaving it anywhere ever again.” Daphne muttered.

  Police and paramedics crowded through the front door. Lisa appeared from the side of the house and frantically gestured for Daphne and John to come to her. Once they reached her, she hugged them both like long lost friends.

  “We have to hurry.”

  She took off and they followed her past the house, deck and pool. Then through the gate to where the wedding had been held.

  “Lisa, you didn’t say who died. What happened?” Daphne puffed as she half-ran to keep up the cracking pace Lisa had set. John grabbed her arm to help her along. Not that he was breathing quietly either.

  “The most dreadful thing has happened.”

  There were voices not far behind and Lisa sped up, skirting behind the still-erected backdrop from the wedding and through a space between more hedges. Daphne scraped her arm going through but what she saw on the other side made her forget it on the spot.

  This was a large paddock with a few sheep huddled at its far end beneath some trees. Past them the caravan sat by the river.

  Face down in the middle of the paddock was a woman. Her body fitting dress and pearls were a giveaway before Daphne was close enough to see her face which was turned in their direction with her eyes closed. A steak knife was in her back.

  “My, oh my. Gina?”

  “Yes. Didn’t I say that on the phone?”

  “No. Lisa, we shouldn’t be here.” John stopped a few metres away and held Daphne’s hand to stop her going further. “Careful where you step, doll. Evidence and all that.”

  He was right. But Lisa was kneeling beside Gina. “This must be the same knife that killed my Steve. It came from the set we were given for our wedding and one was missing, but you know that because the police said they saw one of your photos.”

  “Lisa, you should step away. What if you accidentally destroy evidence?”

  “Too late, Daphne. I found her here when I was going to check the sheep. They were carrying on and now I know why. After she stormed off yesterday we didn’t see her again. Pat phoned last night to see if we knew where she was.”

  The police and paramedics made their way through the hedge, lifting the stretcher through. Bob was followed by Margaret and Bertie. The latter pushed past and ran towards Gina’s body. Lisa leaped up and met him partway.

  “Don’t look, Granddad. She’s gone.”

  “No. No, not my sister.” He skirted around Lisa and dropped to his knees near Gina. “Not my sister. What has he done?”

  “Bertie? What has who done?” Daphne asked.

  He shook his head as though he didn’t understand, his hands wringing each other.

  “You said what has he done? Can you tell me who ‘he’ is?”

  The police were closing in and Bertie glanced at them, his mouth opening and closing before he managed, “The killer. That’s who. It’s gone too far.”

  In a moment, the area was swamped by police and the paramedics. Daphne took John’s hand and tugged. They retreated to the hedge and watched from there as paramedics declared Gina was gone. The officers were ones they’d seen at the station but not spoken with. Bertie was on his feet with Bob supporting him.

  “Bertie knows something.” Daphne said.

  “Got that feeling. Do you think he suspected Gina was behind Steve’s death? That she got on the wrong side of whoever she was working with?”

  “Let’s get my phone before the police stop anyone moving about.”

  They were almost at the pool when Lisa chased them down. “You can’t leave yet!”

  “My phone is in the maintenance room. I accidentally left it there yesterday.”

  Lisa sprinted ahead and was unlocking the door when they reached her. “That’s why your number went to voicemail. I hope it’s still there.”

  So do I!

  Door open, Daphne hurried in. The phone was on the floor. She swept it up, checking it but the battery was flat. “Thank goodness. And thank you, Lisa. But why did you need us here?” She gripped the phone against her chest.

  “They’ll think it was me.” Her voice was steady as she gazed at Daphne. “After the things Gina said yesterday about Steve, I’ll be blamed. At least until they do their forensics tests and find I’m innocent. Somebody has to find the real killer, Daphne.”

  Her mind already turning over possibilities, Daphne was confident Lisa was not involved in any of the deaths. Which left just a handful of known suspects.

  “Lisa, where’s Dempster? I wonder if he heard something from the caravan.”

  “No idea. But he comes and goes as he pleases as long as he does his job. I phoned him when the sheep were carrying on earlier and he didn’t pick up. And now I know why the sheep were upset.”

  “Should we get the police to check the caravan?” Daphne zipped her phone inside her handbag. No more risk taking.

  “He’s probably sleeping off one of his nights of binge drinking.” Lisa relocked the door after Daphne exited. “Gina was nasty to him yesterday and it doesn’t take much to send him on a bender. That’s why he never finished his medical degree. Too stressful.”

  Medical training?

  Outside the pool fence, Lisa stopped and ran a hand over her eyes. “Once this is all over, I think I’m done.”

  “Done, how?” Daphne asked.

  “I’ve tried to fit into this family but nothing works out. I don’t remember much about my real father but he left me a lot of money and it made a difference to Mum having the kind of home she had always wanted. And gave Bertie a safe place instead of slumming it in the old caravan. But nobody is grateful. And I’ve lost three husbands thanks to a family feud my mother married into.”

  One of the police officers emerged through the gate between the hedges, glancing around and spotting the three talking. He spoke into his radio and began walking towards them.

  “I’ll head him off so you two can leave. And thanks for everything, Daphne. Maybe one day when I live a long way from here I’ll get married again and give you a call to do the ceremony.” With that, Lisa straightened her shoulders and made a beeline for the police officer.

  “If the police need to speak to us, they know how to find us.” John looped his arm around Daphne’s waist. “Best we make sure we’re back at Bluebell when the tyres arrive.”

  Daphne couldn’t help looking back. Lisa and the police officer had disappeared and only the still-milky coloured swimming pool indicated anything unusual had ever taken place here. Two murders. A family as dysfunctional as Daphne had ever met. And a mystery still unsolved.

  Daphne’s Decision

  John had rarely been so happy to pull up near Bluebell. All he needed was four tyres and a helping hand to replace those damaged ones and they’d be on their way out of Little Bridges. No more murders. No more difficult and even nasty people. No more worrying when the phone rang. Back on the road with his wife and the wind at their back.

  “I feel I should have stayed.”

  Surely he’d misheard her? John climbed out of the car. “Might put the kettle on before the tyres arrive. For that matter, we didn’t get to have breakfast.”

  Over the roof of the car, Daphne gave him a puzzled look.

  “Need to eat before we head off on the next adventure.” He said.

  “We’ve not quite finished this one.”

  “This, my bride, is not an adventure.” John locked the car. “Nightmare, yes. And one we need to escape from before the next instalment drops into our laps.”

  Daphne followed him into the caravan. He started the coffee while she plugged her phone in, giving him little glances from time to time. Going back to running a real estate agency held a certain appeal at this moment. He’d seen two dead bodies in the space of a few days and now Daphne wanted to go back to where they’d been. Where one still was.

  Two arms encircled his waist as Daphne suddenly hugged him. She must need some emotional support after this morning. And he coul
d do that. He could look after her and make sure nothing bad ever happened…John gulped.

  “Shh. It’s okay, love. We’ll get through this.” Daphne whispered as she squeezed him. “Not nice seeing Gina, was it? But we are outsiders and can be helpful and that makes me feel useful.”

  He held on to her until he could trust himself to speak. Whatever had come over him was back under control. The kettle boiled and he gave her a quick kiss on her lips as her arms dropped to let him go.

  “What would you like to eat?” she asked.

  “Cookies.”

  “For breakfast?”

  John grinned. “Why not. Coffee and cookies. Not like it is early now. More like morning tea.”

  Even though Daphne raised her eyebrows, she was quick to collect the container storing the rest of the cookies from yesterday and leave it open on the table. He brought the cups across and they sat.

  “Why do you think you should have stayed, love?”

  “Oh. I thought you hadn’t heard me say that, but it occurred to me somebody needs to keep an eye on Bertie.”

  “An eye?”

  “He might be distraught about his sister, but what if he does suspect who the killer is and confronts him?”

  John knew he’d regret asking but did so. “Confronts him? Which ‘him’ is the killer?”

  Daphne helped herself to a cookie and nibbled on it for a minute. Her expression was thoughtful and John waited patiently. All of a sudden her eyes met his and his heart sank before she spoke.

  “Do you mind showing me something on the genealogy site?”

  “Just leave me here and go back to Bluebell.”

  “Nope. If you are going to insist on this then you’re stuck with me.”

  They stood at the front door of the Brooker house. Neither had knocked because this debate had gone on for the past three minutes. It was surprising nobody had come to the door to demand an explanation for their presence. Daphne had changed into her new pants and jacket. A professional look made a difference. At least to her confidence because it wasn’t helping her stay cool. She stepped further into the shade.

  She’d put the pieces together and the best opportunity to test her theory was back where it all began. But John was getting more and more concerned and she was second guessing the wisdom of dragging him back here. There were now more cars in the driveway including another patrol car and one she imagined belonged to the homicide detectives.

  Let it go. Leave it to the experts.

  She took John’s hand. “On reflection, the authorities are capable of solving this without me.”

  The front door swung open and Bertie blocked the doorway. He’d aged, if that was possible, since they’d last seen him. No wonder.

  “You might as well come in instead of standing out here arguing.”

  “Oh, we weren’t arguing. Just debating whether we are even needed.” Daphne said.

  “They’re gonna arrest Lisa so come and join the party.” He shuffled down the hallway.

  “We can go.” Daphne whispered, but John shook his head and led the way inside.

  They followed Bertie to the living room, where Matty nodded to them from beside two plainclothes officers who were speaking with Bob. Lisa perched on the arm of a sofa and grinned at Daphne. For someone about to be arrested she was calm. But Margaret was not, pacing the floor with tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Wherever Dempster had been earlier, he was here now, bleary eyes barely flicking to the newcomers from his seat in the furthest corner of the room. He sipped from a bottle of water.

  The detectives stepped away from Bob to speak with Matty. All three glanced at Daphne and John and then to Lisa. Matty said something and younger of the detectives nodded then directed his attention to Lisa.

  “Ms Brooker—”

  “Mrs Tanning.”

  “Sorry. Mrs Tanning, if you have nothing more to say at this time, we intend to take you into custody for further questioning. An attorney may be present and—”

  “Sorry to interrupt again, but maybe you should ask Mrs Jones if she thinks I did it?” Lisa tilted her head and softened her voice as she leaned forward a fraction. “Another moment or two won’t change anything, will it…Captain?”

  Matty smirked as the ‘captain’ glanced at the other detective but didn’t bother to correct Lisa’s obvious attempt at flattery or flirting. Or both.

  “Mrs Jones was here when Steve died and she helped us all. She also came here this morning at my request when I was…flustered and upset by finding my great-aunt, and she has a lot of experience solving crimes.”

  What? I do?

  The eyes of every person in the room shot to Daphne and her legs shook. Just a little.

  “I…er, um, no I have helped with a crime investigation back in our home town but I’m not any kind of expert.”

  “You’ve been most helpful so far, Mrs Jones.” Matty said. “We may need an interview about the events from yesterday by the pool as well as what you observed earlier today in the paddock.”

  “And I’m happy to assist. But if you want to arrest somebody why not the killer?”

  Margaret, who’d stopped pacing and was drying her eyes with tissues, grabbed Bob’s arm.

  “Do you know who the killer is, Mrs Jones?” This was the older of the detectives. “Or is it speculation?”

  Daphne drew in a long breath as her eyes darted from face to face until back on the detective. “That’s for you to decide, but I do believe I know. And the person might well be in this very room with us.”

  A Killer Revealed?

  The silence dragged until the older detective crossed to the living room door and closed it, before leaning against the timber with his arms folded. This simple action stirred the occupants and Daphne was well aware all three police officers were taking mental notes.

  Bob stood to his full height and pushed his chest out. Not a word passed his lips, but his defensive appeared to startle Margaret, who released his arm as if burned. She sank onto the sofa near her daughter.

  “The killer is in this room?” Her eyes moved from person to person.

  Lisa made herself more comfortable on her perch and drew in air through pursed lips. Margaret reached for her hand but Lisa brushed it away a bit impatiently.

  With a grin, Bertie wandered to the window and pushed aside the lacy curtain to look outside. Hopefully, he wasn’t losing himself at this important time but at least he wasn’t trying to take himself off for a walk.

  Still in his seat in the corner, Dempster put the lid on the bottle of water and stared at Daphne. Unwavering. Curious even.

  “So, Mrs Jones, when you say the killer may be in this room, can you specify whose killer?” Matty asked. He took his notepad out. “We may have more than one.”

  What have you got yourself into, Daph?

  She touched her lips with the tip of her tongue. A dry mouth would stop the words and for once, she needed them to come out in a way which made sense to every person in the room. Especially the police officers. They’d granted her a rare opportunity to speak her mind and if she messed up, the killer would have valuable information and potentially be free to cover their tracks. Beside her, John smiled in encouragement.

  “I believe the killer of Steve and the killer of Gina are one and the same person. Since the day of poor Steve’s tragedy, I’ve made extensive notes based upon my observations. The past few days have exposed me to a number of interesting pieces of information. Overheard conversations, local history, legal records. And watching how people interact and how they speak to each other.”

  “Sounds like spying. We invited you into our home and you spy on us.” Bob ran a finger around the neckline of the business shirt beneath his black suit. Did he ever wear anything else?

  “Although spying sounds awfully interesting, I did nothing of the sort. Every person in here has volunteered snippets of gossip, opinion, and outright statements. And almost all were unsolicited.”

  “Rubbish
. What have I said to you that would make me a suspect?” Bob demanded.

  “Let me see. You called Steve ‘a little rat’ in front of me. Sorry, Lisa.”

  “I’ve heard him say it enough.” Lisa said.

  Daphne continued. “You told me you were unhappy about the wedding and having all the guests in your home.”

  He snorted. “That is your evidence?”

  “I understand you insisted the pool tiles be polished the day before the wedding which would have made the footing slippery. Easier to push someone into the pool.”

  “True. You did insist I redo them.” Dempster piped up. “They didn’t need it.”

  Bob glared at him.

  “There’s more but I can’t see you as either the killer or the brains behind it.”

  Daphne changed her focus to Margaret, whose fingers worked overtime on a tissue, shredding it into tiny strips.

  “Margaret, you told me you didn’t like Steve. I heard you say you wished Lisa would stop putting you through all the weddings. And that the problem was Lisa’s taste in husbands. Again, sorry Lisa.”

  This time Lisa didn’t respond. Her body stiffened and her mouth was clamped shut.

  “But like with Bob, you are not the killer or the brains behind it.”

  “Who has brains?” Bertie left the window and sat beside Margaret on the sofa. “Not Lisa. I love her, but she lets people walk all over her. Not real smart if you ask me.”

  “Thanks, Gramps.”

  He didn’t seem to care, smiling to himself as he played with the buttons on his shirt.

  Matty cleared his throat to get the attention back on himself. “Mrs Jones, this is very enlightening, but so far you’re excluding people rather than telling us who you think is behind the deaths of Steve and Gina. Lisa had blood on her hands when we arrived. She’d interfered with the crime scene. Yet you implied Lisa is not responsible.”