by Nancy Warren
All the cushion covers were beautiful and as individual as the knitters. Helen received so much praise, Teddy made her a star alongside Margot as he talked about their finished pieces on camera using words like “imaginative” and “daring.”
The lace would be backed by silk, and he suggested much brighter colors than Helen had planned. But, for Helen, I thought this class had been a genuine breakthrough. She hadn’t exactly colored outside the lines. She’d done an electron shell configuration of the elements, but her circles were precise. However, it was gorgeous and vivid. Teddy said to her, “How does it feel? To put some color in your world?”
“I’m quite pleased with it. I’m really very pleased.” She sounded relieved, too, that taking chances had paid off. He patted her shoulder in today’s muskrat-colored cardigan. “Helen, promise me that you will start knitting some of your sweaters in color. I want to see you bold and beautiful.”
She ducked her head, looking shy. “I’ll try.”
There was a knock at my front door. Molly looked annoyed and went to answer it. There was a huge sign saying the shop was closed due to filming and please not to knock. However, when she saw who was doing the knocking, she opened the door. In came Ian Chisholm with two uniformed officers. Two uniformed officers? This looked serious.
My heart began to thump.
Teddy went straight up to them. Molly made cutting motions to the cameraman and the sound guy. Teddy said, “Detective Inspector Chisholm. Please tell me you have my phone. My life is on that thing.”
“We’ll get it back to you as soon as we can, sir.”
Teddy looked at us and opened his arms wide. “If he doesn’t have my phone, then why is he here?”
We all looked at Ian. He said, “We need everyone’s help. Enid Selfe’s murder has been a particularly difficult case to solve.”
Annabel turned to Ryan. “Does that mean they know who did it?”
“How should I know?” He wasn’t being as friendly with her as he had before she’d suggested he might have killed Enid.
Ian continued, “Enid Selfe was not a popular woman, and yet, she married three times. She was a beautiful knitter but managed to make enemies of everyone in this class.”
I thought that was a bit brutal, but I wasn’t about to argue with the detective who seemed to be going somewhere with this line of argument.
“Normally, in a murder investigation, the first thing we do is discard the leads that don’t go anywhere. But, in this case, every one of the leads has directed us to a possible murderer.”
Someone gasped. I wasn’t sure if it was Annabel or Helen.
“Gunnar.”
Gunnar started to rise, then, seeing three police officers between him and the door, sat down again. He looked like a caged wild animal. “Me? But I didn’t even know the woman.”
“You didn’t know Gunnar Amundsen, either, when you assumed his identity.”
There was another collective gasp, and this time more of us joined in.
“Your real name is Sven Henningsen, and you’re not Norwegian at all, but Danish.”
Gunnar went very red in the face, or I guess Sven did the blushing. He stood up as though he were going to leave. But, of course, there were still police at the door. He said, “I have paid for my crimes.”
Ian continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “You weren’t in the North Sea when you learned to knit, were you? You learned to knit in prison.”
“You have no right.”
“Oh, I have every right.” Ian glanced around the table. “Tell your fellow knitters what you were imprisoned for.”
The Dane sat back down, looking defeated. “I killed a woman. But it was an accident.”
“According to the evidence at your hearing, you killed a woman in a jealous rage.”
“You don’t know what it was like. You weren’t there. We fought all the time. I pushed her. I shouldn’t have done it, but I pushed her, and she tripped and hit her head. I didn’t mean to kill her.”
“That’s not what the prosecution thought.”
“I have done my time. I only want to live quietly and put the past behind me. That is why I changed my name.”
“But your past followed you. Enid Selfe flirted with you at the book signing. Several people commented on it.”
Really? I’d only noticed her with Rafe. Which showed where my interests lay.
Ian continued, “She made you think she was interested, and then she went cold. Moved on to other men. You sent her a message from Teddy’s phone, knowing that she would come and meet him. Did she reject your advances? Is that why you killed her? Did she also trip and have an accident?”
The man we knew as Gunnar shook his head. “This is a fairytale. You have no proof.”
“So this is the killer?” Vinod asked, staring at Gunnar.
“Not so fast,” Ian replied. “You kept some things from us too. Didn’t you?”
Vinod looked at the detective with dignity. “I answered all your questions.”
“You said you hadn’t known Enid Selfe before you met her here in Oxford,” Ian said. He reached for his notebook. “Shall I read you back your own words?”
Vinod shook his head. “What I said was true. I never met that woman. For the rest, it was not my story to tell.”
“Fathers. Mothers. Beloved children. That’s a story that’s played out here.” I felt bad that I had been the one to start Ian down the path where Vinod, his son, Enid Selfe’s daughter and Enid herself converged. But I had thought it might be important, and clearly Ian thought so too. He said, “Your son and Enid’s daughter, Amelia, were more than friends, weren’t they? They believed themselves in love. And Enid put a stop to that. She humiliated your son in public, broke his heart and nearly got him fired from his job.” He stared at Vinod. “You’re a proud father. You must have been mad enough to kill.”
Vinod gave a tiny smile. “Enid Selfe was not the only one who disapproved of the match,” he said. “Amelia is a very nice girl, but I don’t believe my son should be spending so much time with the young woman. He needs to focus on his studies.”
“And yet, from everything I can tell, the two of them are back together again now that her mother is dead.”
Vinod looked genuinely shocked. “That young woman needs a friend. Yes, we have welcomed her back into our family. I’ve told her she can come over any time that she needs a place to go or a good meal. I’m fond of her. We all are. It doesn’t mean I want my son to marry her. They are only seventeen.”
Annabel spoke up. “Vinod couldn’t have done it. We’re staying at the same hotel. The night of the murder, I couldn’t sleep. It was hot. Around midnight, I got up to open my window, and when I looked out, I saw Vinod sitting outside, smoking a cigarette.”
Vinod shook his head. “It is a terrible habit. I am ashamed that you should see me, but I felt quite perturbed having learned that Enid Selfe was in our knitting class. I wasn’t certain I could continue.”
Smoking might be dangerous to his health, but it looked like the cancer sticks had saved his butt in this case.
Ian wasn’t buying it though. “Annabel. How convenient that you should give Vinod an alibi. It naturally gives you one as well.”
Chapter 21
Annabel opened her eyes wide. “Me? Why do I need an alibi?” She glanced around. “What are you planning to do? Arrest everybody?”
He flipped through his notes and stopped when he found the place he wanted. “Does the name Horace Crisfield mean anything to you?”
Her hands clenched involuntarily, scrunching her beautiful lacework. “What about him? He’s dead, and good riddance to him.”
“As I said, the more we searched each of your backgrounds, the more links we found to Enid Selfe, or in this case, one of her husbands.”
“Horace Crisfield was a horrible man. I don’t care who knows it. He deported my granddad back to Jamaica. Granddad hadn’t seen Jamaica since he was two years old. I hired the best lawyer
I could afford. Oh, we got him back. But he had a heart attack from the stress. He’s never been the same since.”
“I’m so sorry,” Ryan said, putting his hand over hers. She turned hers over and gripped his fingers.
Ian said, “Horace Crisfield was dead. But then Enid Selfe announced to you that he’d done the right thing. Don’t bother to deny it. Several people overheard the conversation. Perhaps you decided you’d found the perfect revenge. If you couldn’t hurt Crisfield, you could punish Enid Selfe.”
“Nonsense. What Crisfield and his cronies did was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. But how would it help my granddad if I became a murderer? No. I loathed Enid Selfe, her racism, and everything she stood for. I won’t pretend I’m sorry she’s dead, but I didn’t kill her.”
Helen was watching the two of them. She said, “No offense, but if anyone had a motive, it was Ryan.”
Ryan turned to her. “What?”
“You are the one that said if she turned out to be your mother, you’d have to kill her.”
His jaw dropped. “I was only joking. Anyway, she wasn’t my mother.” He turned to Ian. “Was she?”
Ian said, “You’d have to have DNA testing to be certain. You might want to do that to ease your mind.”
Ryan let out a breath. “So you don’t suspect me?”
“Oh, I do. I suspect all of you. And until someone remembers something or admits to the crime, we’re going to sit here, and I will sift through all the evidence.” He glared around fiercely at us. “One of you knows something. Or you saw something.”
Teddy suddenly spoke up. “Well, I didn’t. That woman was nothing to me. I’m bored of all this drama. I’ve a knitting class to teach, and I’d like to get on with it. And I want my phone back by the end of the day, or you’ll hear from my lawyers.”
Ian said, “Mr. Lamont, you’ve as much reason as anyone to want that woman dead. She ruined your first day of filming. She was going to ruin the entire televised class. Your brand is all about the way you connect with your fans.”
Gunnar spoke up for the first time. “And it was your cell phone that sent the text. Perhaps you sent it yourself.”
“Well, I didn’t. Molly, tell them. You’d already promised to find me a replacement. I went all diva on her ass until she agreed. I didn’t have to kill Enid Selfe. I just had to tell the staff to make a change.”
Molly walked over to stand beside Teddy. She looked tired and stressed. “He’s right. It was my responsibility.”
“It’s always your responsibility, isn’t it? Word is, this isn’t your first disaster. One more, and you were out in a very unforgiving industry. You needed this show to go well.”
She rubbed her eyes. “Yes. I did, and I do. But I didn’t have to murder a woman to get this show back on track. All I had to do was replace her.”
“We’re not getting anywhere,” Annabel said. “You’ve now accused everybody but Lucy and Helen of being the murderer.”
Ian smiled the kind of smile that made me nervous. It seemed to have the same effect on Helen. “Yes. Now we come to Helen.”
She glanced up nervously. “Yes?”
“She didn’t even recognize you, did she?”
Helen tried to look innocent, but I could see her shoulders climbing up around her ears. “Who?”
“Enid Selfe. The woman who gave you a nervous breakdown so you left the job you’d loved for eight years.”
Vinod’s eyes widened. “Of course. Why did I not put two and two together? You taught at Castle Bromwich Ladies’ College. The school Amelia attends.”
“That’s right. I did.” Her hands were shaking so badly, she clasped them together and put them in her lap.
Ian pulled a photograph from a file and handed it to Vinod. Naturally, I leaned over for a peek. I had never seen such a transformation in my life. The woman in the photograph had shoulder-length dark hair. She wore a smart suit, stylish eyeglasses, and her face looked firm and confident. The woman in the photo was Helen, but she’d lost all of her color and aged a couple of decades since that photograph.
We all glanced at Ian, who said, “That picture was taken at a staff event only three years ago, wasn’t it, Helen?”
She glanced at the photo and nodded. “Enid Selfe destroyed my career, my happiness, my health and nearly destroyed me.”
“You must have hated her.”
She nodded. “I think the worst of it was that her daughter’s a genuinely nice young woman. Clever, but not brilliant. She’ll do well at a second-tier university, but that woman had an obsession about getting that girl into Oxford or Cambridge. She became convinced that I wasn’t doing enough, that I wasn’t qualified. She reported me to the headmistress on several occasions. Wanted me replaced. She’d accuse me of sloppy teaching any time her daughter didn’t get top marks. It’s amazing how destructive one person can be. She even got other parents to side with her. She destroyed my peace, she destroyed my confidence, and finally, she destroyed my health.”
In a conversational tone, Ian said, “We found a partial fingerprint on one of the knitting needles that was driven into Enid Selfe’s chest. It was yours.”
Her head jerked up. “What? That’s impossible.”
“Why? Because you wiped them so carefully? You missed a spot.”
She shook her head. “No.” She glanced at me wildly. “Lucy, you remember. That first day. I was admiring the display of needles. I must’ve touched one.”
I didn’t remember that at all. I shook my head, feeling sorry for her.
Ian said, “Helen Radcliffe, I’ll need you to come down to the station to help us with our inquiries.”
“I can’t… I didn’t… I need to call my husband.”
He nodded. “When we get to the station.”
“At least let me get my pills.”
Margot Dodeson rose and collected her bag. “Well, I’m obviously in the way.” She smiled at Teddy. “Thank you very much for the excellent class. It’s been an honor.”
I watched Margot walk away, not taking the most direct path to the door, but walking in a curve. I said, “Margot? Why wouldn’t you walk straight to the door?”
She turned, looking startled, as did everyone around the table. “I beg your pardon?”
I stood up for the first time. I’d been quiet until now. Like Ian, I had seen too many suspects and no obvious murderer. Until last night.
“Every time you walk in or out of this shop, you go around the spot where Enid Selfe was killed. But how would you know that? Unless you’d been there.”
Margot backed up until she bumped the wall of wools. She looked so timid, you’d think a mouse would scare her away. “Lucy, I really believe the stress is getting to you, dear.”
“When did you go back to your maiden name?”
Two bright spots of color appeared in her pale cheeks. “It was a personal choice after my divorce. Many women do.”
It was Gran who had remembered her married name, but obviously I couldn’t give my undead grandmother any sleuthing credit, so I said, “I was confused. You seemed like a recent customer, but you spoke of knowing my Gran and things that happened years ago. When I looked back in the files, I found a Margot Vincent. That was you.”
“It’s not a crime to change your name. I must go now. It’s been lovely.”
She took another step toward the door, but this time, Ian stopped her. “Vincent?”
He turned to me, looking puzzled. “That wasn’t one of the husbands, was it?”
“No. It was one of the boyfriends. Enid Selfe was not a nice woman. She seemed to need every man she met to fall in love with her. It was kind of an obsession with her, wasn’t it?” I asked Margot.
“I’ve no idea,” she said primly.
“Your husband wasn’t rich or titled. He was simply unavailable. He was a married building contractor who worked on Enid’s home. While he was working there, they began an affair.”
Margot put her hands over her face. “No,�
�� she said in a strangled voice. I felt sorry for her, but the truth had to come out.
“Maybe she was bored. Maybe she thought she’d get a better price if they were lovers. Maybe she just wanted whatever she couldn’t have. Who knows why she went after your husband? But she did, and he left you, planning to marry her.” I made myself deliberately cruel. “He dumped you, his boring but faithful wife of what? Twenty years? And ran off with Enid. Just up and left, after all you’d done for him.”
“I wouldn’t do something like that.” But her voice was wavering.
“You still wear your wedding ring. That’s why I didn’t realize you were divorced. I bet you hang on to all sorts of things from the past. I bet if the police got a warrant to search your home they’d find something heavy. Something that had meaning for you.” I was making this story up as I went along but Margot was becoming increasingly agitated so I thought maybe I was close to the truth. “One of the tools your husband left behind, perhaps? Something heavy, like a hammer that he could have used in Enid Selfe’s home renovation. You wouldn’t have thrown the murder weapon away. You’d have kept it. As a reminder. She took everything from you, but you got your revenge, in the end. The police will find traces, you know, of her blood. That’s what will convict you.”
Suddenly she dropped her hands and faced me fiercely. “He was all I had. He was my life. I wasn’t only his wife. I did the books for the business. We were a team. And she took him away. And then, when he wanted to marry her, she said no. She took him away from me, and she didn’t even want him.” Her voice was rising now. “I’d have taken him back. I would. But she’d done something to him. He didn’t want me anymore, even though he couldn’t have her.” She wailed. “She took everything from me, and she didn’t even want him.”
I glanced over at Ian to see if he wanted to take over, but he motioned me to continue. “When you came into my shop the other day, you didn’t know she’d be here, did you?”
I remembered now how overwrought Margot had been. I’d assumed she was starstruck by Teddy. But that wasn’t what affected her. She’d recognized Enid Selfe, the woman who’d destroyed her marriage and probably her life.
