Till Daph Do Us Part

by Phillipa Nefri Clark

  “I can understand Lisa being a suspect. And in both deaths.” Daphne decided she’d apologised to Lisa enough and instead kept her eyes on Matty. “Not only were her two previous husbands in the grave, but now a third one was dead. All related by blood to each other and there is a feud between both families which might offer motive. Steve was quite rude to her during the ceremony which for some people might tip them over the edge.”

  “My daughter is not a killer!” Margaret burst into tears.

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Mum. You’re sounding like me now.” Lisa reached for a box of tissues on a coffee table and dropped them in her mother’s lap.

  “At the farewell ceremony yesterday, Gina was horrible to Lisa. Horrible to a few people. And Lisa? You gave back as good as you got. I recall you said you’d never forgive her for making sure Steve’s family didn’t attend the wedding. How better to reinforce your feelings than with a steak knife in her back?”

  Oh my. You are on a roll!

  “But…but I didn’t kill anyone.” There it was. The waver in the voice.

  Before this turned into a Lisa pity party, Daphne moved on. Two left.

  A Shock Confession

  “I’ve known the family for a long time, Mrs Jones. Do any of them even look like killers?” Dempster asked.

  “But what does a killer look like? Young or older? Quick to anger…” Daphne glanced at Lisa, who averted her eyes. “or quick to disappear?” This was directed at Bertie, who nodded with a somewhat vacant expression. He was clearly off somewhere in his mind. “For many reasons I excluded Lisa, not the least being her visibility at the wedding. She simply had no chance to kill Steve. And, in my humble opinion, she had no motive strong enough to drive her to do so.”

  Dempster remained still apart from the fingers of one hand tapping on the arm of the chair.

  After a quick breath, Daphne continued. “Time for me to be honest. I thought Gina was behind this all. That she was the brains. And I still do.”

  “My sister? No brains there.” Bertie offered with a small chuckle. “Where is Gina?” Margaret patted his arm.

  “Gina was a proud woman and an even prouder Brooker, in my estimation.” Daphne said.

  Everyone nodded, even Matty.

  “She had no time for the Tanning family. More than that, she was old enough to remember handed down stories of the original family feud. Two men who fought over a woman, both losing their lives in the process. Friends who left behind their children with no parents. Gina may have heard the story from her own grandparents and parents. Do you remember the story, Bertie?”

  He nodded. “I grew up knowing no Tanning is a good one. Wasn’t true though.”

  “You had a business deal with Troy Tanning.”

  “Good partner. Good friend. Until Bob started nosing around and making accusations.” Bertie sighed deeply and returned to his buttons.

  Bob spluttered. “Nosing around! I acted on advice from your own sister.”

  All heads—apart from Bertie’s—swung to Bob. This was a new detail.

  “Gina told me to take a look. You weren’t even using a bookkeeper and money was disappearing with no record. She was worried when she heard you and Tanning discuss buying out the parts shop and she was right. That was once a thriving little business and went under thanks to you and Tanning.”

  Bertie didn’t respond. In fact, he hummed beneath his breath.

  Bob clenched his hands then strode to a liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of something. After swallowing the contents, he leaned against the wall and glared at everyone.

  “This reinforces Gina’s track record of anti-Tanning activities. I have a whole list of them in my notebook. Obviously, this is for the police to investigate, but my belief is that Gina is responsible for the deaths of Steve, and quite possibly Sam and Shane.”

  Lisa jumped to her feet. “She what?”

  Matty shook his head. “Those deaths were ruled accidental. And Gina wasn’t even in the country when Shane died.”

  Sink or swim, Daph.

  Daphne gestured to the corner. “But Dempster was.”

  “Huh?” Dempster’s mouth dropped open.

  “But he’s been with us for years!” Margaret squealed.

  “Hired him myself. What a load of rubbish.” Bob helped himself to more liquor.

  The detective near Matty opened his phone and tapped away.

  Dempster got to his feet. “If you’re talking about when the branch fell then yeah, I was there. Worst day ever.”

  Lisa stalked across the room to stand in front of Dempster. “For Shane!”

  “Yeah. And me. Was an accident.”

  Daphne took control back. “You may have noticed that Gina was stabbed in the back. Quite literally. No way she did that to herself but it doesn’t mean she wasn’t behind the other murders. I’ve been mentioning the killer and the brains behind the killer. Two different people. Yesterday Gina stated she was going to speak to the police. Nobody knew what about…or did they? I think Gina had an accomplice. Someone to do the dirty work.”

  “Not me. I’m clean as a whistle.” Dempster attempted to slide past Lisa, but she grabbed his arms and screamed at him.

  “What did you do to my husbands? Did you kill my boys?”

  All three police reacted as one and surrounded Lisa and Dempster. A minute later Lisa was escorted back to the sofa by Matty, while Dempster stood with the detectives on either side of him.

  Daphne fanned her face with her hand. John put his hand on the middle of her back and his support, his gentle reminder he was close, let her push away the little voice in her head telling her she was being cruel. Upsetting innocent people. Making a scene.

  You’ve come a long way, Daph.

  What she was doing was standing up for what was right.

  “Why would I kill anyone?” Dempster whined. “I just work here.”

  The older detective watched Daphne, his face unreadable. She’d better get a hurry on.

  “Dempster, I think you want more than just to work here. I think you believe you have a claim on the Brooker name and any wealth that comes with. Is it true you descend from Mary Smith?”

  The man’s eyes widened.

  “Just who is Mary Smith and how is this relevant?” Bob sounded a bit slurred and from the look of it was onto his third drink.

  “She was the wife of your own ancestor, Richard Brooker. The woman who left him to live with Joseph Tanning. The person the men fought over. And she was carrying a child when she vanished. Probably Richard’s. Genealogy records point to Dempster being her descendant.”

  “But I—” Dempster started.

  “It is all true.” Margaret got to her feet and faced Daphne. “Clever, aren’t you? Dempster came here years ago demanding he be acknowledged as a Brooker. With his hand out. He wanted what wasn’t his and when I told him some truths he didn’t take kindly to it. Thought I’d need to call the police. Thank goodness Bertie arrived and sorted him out.”

  “Mum? You never said anything to me.”

  “Or to me.” Bob put down his drink as the colour drained from his face. “Is Dempster my relative?”

  “Hello. I’m right here.” Dempster waved. “But your wife is nuts. I’m not violent. I was disappointed when she said the Brooker estate was virtually gone and any money was from her side of the family.”

  Bob stumbled his way across the room to the other man. The older detective held up a hand to stop him getting any closer so he planted his feet and peered at Dempster. “You look a bit like a Brooker. Never saw it before.”

  “Bob! You’re missing the point. He wanted to waltz in here and take our property. Become part of our family. Steal from us the way you say the Tannings do.” Margaret wrung her hands together. “Bertie stopped him from pursuing his ridiculous claim.”

  “Perhaps, Bertie can shed some light…where’s Bertie?” Daphne asked. She gazed around the room. His spot on the sofa was empty. He wasn’t back at the windo
w. And when she glanced behind herself, the door was ajar.

  More Than Missing

  “I’ll go and find him.” Dempster took a step but the hand of one of the detectives stopped him.

  “Not just yet. We’ll hear out Mrs Jones and then locate Mr Brooker.”

  Bob returned to the liquor cabinet. “Silly old man won’t be far. Trust him to wander off when we need answers.”

  “Margaret, what did Bertie do to placate Dempster all those years ago?” Daphne asked. “And why not tell the family about his true identity?”

  The other woman turned bright red and hung her head. “I didn’t want him here. I’m ashamed of myself for not extending a welcome but Lisa had spent a lot of money on building the house and our lives were going so well.” She raised her eyes in Dempster’s direction. “I am sorry, Dempster. I treated you unfairly.”

  Dempster shrugged. His usual friendly manner was gone. His eyes had narrowed and there was a wariness about him Daphne had never noticed before. Funny how people show themselves when under pressure.

  “As for what Bertie did? Well, he offered him a job. Said we needed someone to help around the garden and pool. At first it was a couple of days a week and then Bertie and Dempster started going fishing together and before I knew it, Bertie wanted him living in the old caravan.”

  “And you were okay with that?”

  “Not at all. But Dempster gave me a choice. Give in to Bertie’s idea or else Dempster would tell everyone he was related and start legal action. He didn’t care if he only got a small piece of the pie, as I recall him putting it.” Shoulders down, Margaret returned to the sofa and plonked down.

  The younger detective checked his phone and showed it to his partner. Dempster craned his neck to see but they stepped away from him. His eyes darted to the door as if judging how fast he could reach it. The muscle in his cheek twitched. John must have noticed for he casually closed the door again and as the detective had, leaned against it. Dempster shot him a look of such malice that Daphne shivered. Thank goodness there were three police officers in the room.

  The older detective spoke. “We’ve had an officer walk down to the caravan. He has observed the trace of a blood-like substance on one of the steps.”

  Everyone looked at Dempster’s feet, which wore socks, but no footwear.

  Margaret pointed to the back of the house. “He knows to take his boots off before entering.”

  “We’ll collect them on our way to the caravan. Dempster Smith, we would appreciate your co-operation in the investigation of the death of—”

  Dempster made a dash for the door and Matty flew across the room, stopping him a foot or two away from John ,who hadn’t moved an inch and smiled at Daphne.

  She’d had about enough now. This was too nerve-wracking for words.

  A couple of minutes later, Dempster was in handcuffs being escorted down the hallway. Matty lingered.

  “Mrs Jones, you have great insight. But what made you believe Dempster and Gina had an arrangement?”

  “Gina hated the Tannings. She believed the old adage of them always stealing from the Brookers. Dempster was someone she could manipulate based on his disappointment at being an outcast thanks to the action of Joseph Tanning all those decades ago. At least, that’s my theory, for what it’s worth.”

  Bob was sitting beside Margaret, holding her hand. “You should have said something, Mags. Not put up with being bullied into silence.”

  A tear rolled down Margaret’s face.

  Lisa collected the tissue box again and kneeled in front of her mother. “We’ll get through this. You did nothing wrong, Mamma.”

  Matty stepped into the hallway and Daphne could see no reason to stay with the Brookers. She and John closed the door behind themselves.

  “What happens now?”

  “There’s a lot to investigate. Crime scene is still on its way so the body is staying where it is for now. Dempster will be questioned at the station and I imagine formally charged for Gina’s murder. And I’m going to ask the detectives if it is worth looking at the deaths of Shane and Sam again.”

  A pleasant warmth spread through Daphne. If some good came of her efforts—hers and John’s—then it balanced out the worry and upset. The ruin of the wedding might be redeemed a little.

  John’s phone rang. “Looks like the number from the tyre people. I’ll go answer it.”

  “Matty, are we able to leave? Town, I mean?”

  “I think we’ve kept you here long enough.” He smiled. “We will need a statement but you can make it in your next town. Just let me know once you are there and I’ll arrange it.”

  “Do you need us to help look for Bertie?”

  “Can’t imagine he’s gone too far. Looks like John’s waving to you.”

  “Then I’ll say goodbye. And thank you for allowing me to speak.”

  “You’ve been persistent,” he grinned. “From the beginning you told me you had suspicions and it turns out you were right.”

  Not Quite Done

  “I don’t know if being a celebrant is right for you, doll.”

  Daphne had gazed out of the window since they’d driven away from the Brooker residence. She’d not spoken once but her body language reassured John she was simply processing and no longer stressing.

  “You may be right.” She said, without looking at him. “Not certain I can perform another wedding without expecting a tragedy.”

  “Hm. Not what I meant.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if more clients cancelled.”

  “Doubt it. If anything you should increase your fee.”

  Now she did turn her head.

  “You’ve done something amazing today, Daph. Solved a crime and with a bit of luck, put a criminal behind bars. Not every bride and groom can say they were married by a celebrant sleuth.”

  The corners of Daphne’s mouth lifted and her eyes twinkled. “Celebrant sleuth. Has a nice ring to it.”

  “That’s my girl. You did good. And now we’re getting new tyres and can finally get back on the road. Time to begin planning the next ceremony. And what we’ll have for dinner tonight.”

  On cue, his stomach rumbled and they both laughed.

  “You didn’t even get to have cookies for breakfast, let alone a real one. I’ll make us a nice lunch while the tyres are being done. What do you fancy?”

  He fancied being by a river fishing, but not in this town. Somewhere far from criminals and vandals.

  “John?”

  “Sorry, love. Anything at all. As long as we eat lunch together and without interruptions, I’ll be a happy man.”

  She smiled. “I’m not about to let anyone or anything interrupt our time together for quite a while.”

  The intention was good but there was almost no food left in the caravan and it would take ages to defrost anything. Grabbing her handbag and a shopping bag, she went to find John.

  He was getting Bluebell ready to be lifted enough to change her tyres. “They’ll be along in the next few minutes.” He held chocks in either hand.

  “I’m going to walk to town and find us some lunch, love. How about some pies from the bakery?”

  John dropped an absent-minded kiss on her forehead. “Take the car.”

  “I think a short walk will do me good. Back soon.”

  In the distance a work truck approached. Daphne estimated she’d be back before they finished if she got a move on. Ten minutes either way and a bit of time to shop. She might drop in and say goodbye to Maurice at the newspaper. And thank him for his part in helping her reach the conclusion of Gina and Dempsey being responsible for at least Steve’s murder.

  Something didn’t sit right with Daphne. As much as Dempsey denied it, she was confident he was the brawn behind the brains. With his medical background, hatred of the Tannings, and physical match, it all fitted. But there was more to this and it had to tie in with the deaths of Shane and Sam. Yet Gina had been out of the picture for at least one of those deaths
.

  At the first clump of trees, where the boot prints were still visible in the dried dirt, Daphne looked back to Bluebell. John chatted to one of the tyre fitters while a second man rolled the new tyres off the back of their truck. Had it been Dempster standing here the other night? Plotting to damage Bluebell? Why though? At the time, Daphne didn’t recall even speaking to him, letting alone suspecting him. What reason would he have to watch her?

  With a shudder, she got going. No point worrying over what might have happened. Dempster was in custody and with Gina dead, the killings would stop.

  Or will they?

  “If the police come calling just remember you forced me to do this.” Those were Gina’s last words to Bertie, overheard by their family, friends, Dempster, and Daphne. A threat to anyone who had something to hide, after she’d reminded them earlier of her knowledge of ‘torrid family secrets’. She might be one of those people who stored information on people in order to blackmail them.

  “But why would you bring the police into it?” Daphne stopped again. “If you were the brains then you’d go to jail as well.”

  Her gut was churning. What had she missed? Was there a chance Gina was not Dempster’s accomplice? She needed her notes. A fresh look at them based on the new information from this morning. But first she had to buy lunch and then she could have another read.

  The bridge was up ahead and as she closed in on it, Daphne jumped as a large thicket of reeds rustled and a tall, thin figure emerged from its centre. The person wore a hoodie and wiped their hands down their front, leaving white streaks, then sauntered onto the bridge as if that was normal behaviour.

  Daphne hurried to the spot the person had stood. A trail of white liquid which looked like paint, led towards the river and Daphne forced her way through the reeds.

  Too far into the river for her to reach, a white tub slowly submerged. An open tub with the word ‘Poison’ on its side. Thick white liquid seeped into the river and just before it sank, a small black object floated out. A phone.