A Body in the Bookshop

by Helen Cox

  ‘Oh?’ said Kitt. ‘Has there been a breakthrough of some sorts?’

  Olivia’s face froze just long enough for Evie to notice, and she would bet her life on it that it hadn’t escaped Kitt’s attention either.

  ‘No . . .’ Olivia said. ‘But whoever it was, they already have the most valuable books in the shop. There’s nothing really worth coming back for, is there?’

  Evie glanced over at the soft toy display standing to the left of the counter. Particularly, at the large Benjamin Bunny, Mrs Tiggywinkle and Jemima Puddleduck toys that lined the top shelf. All of Peter Rabbit’s friends were in attendance but he was noticeably missing. Adorable as the toys were, Evie was inclined to agree with Olivia on this one. The burglar seemed unlikely to return to collect the rest of the set.

  ‘You’re right, of course, silly me,’ said Kitt.

  Evie smiled at this comment. The last word Kitt would ever use to describe herself was silly, unless she wanted Olivia to think of her as silly, a façade that must be nothing short of torture for someone as well-read as she. What was Kitt’s plan?

  ‘Anyway,’ Olivia added, ‘Donald and Shereen said it was important, something to do with their insurance broker.’

  ‘I see,’ said Kitt. ‘With a loss like that I can understand they’d want to make that trip a priority.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Olivia, in a haughty tone.

  Evie really wasn’t sure what to make of this young woman; her manner seemed to run from hot to cold in an instant. But, Evie conceded, perhaps she had become so vintage at heart that she was now completely detached from the next generation.

  ‘Such terrible luck, the whole business,’ said Kitt seemingly unruffled by the young girl’s tone. ‘Except, I suppose it wasn’t really luck, was it? The burglars somehow knew exactly where to look for the most expensive items in the shop.’ She took a step closer to the counter and eyed Olivia in a manner that would put anyone on edge.

  Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, and the sharp note returned to her voice. ‘What are you saying, like?’

  ‘That whoever it was who stole from you knew exactly where to look and that means they had probably been in the shop before the robbery.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ said Olivia, her eyes looking anywhere but at Kitt.

  ‘I hadn’t thought of it before,’ said Evie, in mock-surprise. ‘But I think Kitt’s right. If they knew where to look they must have been in the shop.’

  Olivia squirmed on the spot before controlling herself and shrugging.

  ‘You’ve got a wonderful knowledge of the customers who are in and out of here,’ Kitt said in the most sugary voice Evie had ever heard her use. ‘Did anyone ask about the books that were stolen in the last few months? If so, you might be able to pass on their descriptions to the police. I’m sure they’d welcome any help finding the culprits.’

  ‘I already talked to the police about that. Nobody I served asked after them. But Donald said he’d had a couple of enquiries a few months back. He told the police what he could remember.’

  ‘I see. Sorry if I’m stating the obvious, I just feel so badly that this happened to my favourite bookshop,’ said Kitt. ‘At least Donald was able to offer the police a lead. I do just think it’s a horrible shame.’

  Olivia smiled then. ‘You’re right, it is. And it’s not like Donald and Shereen haven’t got enough to worry about right now.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Kitt. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize they had more strain happening on top of that.’

  ‘Well, they don’t like to let on. Small town. Word gets round a bit too easy.’

  ‘Too true,’ said Kitt.

  Slowly, Olivia looked Kitt up and down. There was something about the gesture Evie didn’t like, though it was difficult to put her finger on what it was. ‘But I’m sure, given you’re such a regular customer, only looking out for them and that, they wouldn’t mind me saying to you that business hasn’t been too strong lately.’

  ‘Really,’ said Kitt, glancing over again at Evie just for a moment. ‘Oh, that is sad news. Have things been slow?’

  Olivia shrugged. ‘I don’t know the exact ins and outs. But I’ve overheard one or two things that suggest they haven’t been exactly raking it in lately. I wondered if they were going to cut my hours because of it, but they haven’t yet.’

  ‘This robbery must have been the last straw with that already hanging over them,’ said Evie.

  ‘Tempers have been short around here,’ said Olivia, and took pains to lower her voice before continuing even though the customers scuttling around at the back of the shop were definitely out of earshot. ‘About a week before the robbery, Donald and Shereen had a proper blow out in the back room.’

  ‘That’s not a good sign,’ said Kitt. ‘Were they arguing about money? Financial trouble does put a lot of strain on relationships.’

  ‘That was a big part of it,’ Olivia said, looking down at the counter.

  Kitt tilted her head to one side. ‘There was something else?’

  ‘I . . . I could be mistaken, but I thought I heard Donald accusing Shereen of having an affair. When he said that she completely went off on one. Screaming back at him, denying it.’

  ‘An affair? Shereen?’

  ‘That’s what it sounded like. But it was quite difficult to make out every word. They were so angry it was all a bit garbled. She got so mad at one point she . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She shouted at him that if he didn’t shut up about it she was going to kill him.’

  Evie swallowed hard. People made idle threats like that every day. Six months ago she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. At some point she must herself have idly suggested she would do someone in if they didn’t stop whatever they might be doing to irritate her. But after the events of recent months, the idea of murders taking place in York, of bodies turning up in the places that you once thought of as safe and homely, wasn’t so fantastic an idea.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure she didn’t mean it,’ said Kitt. But Evie could tell from the waver in her friend’s voice that she was thinking along the same lines. ‘People say a lot of things when they’re angry.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ said Olivia. ‘I’ve heard them getting at each other a couple of times since I started working here. I’ve just never heard them go at each other like that before.’

  Evie wanted to ask who Donald suspected his wife was having an affair with. She didn’t know exactly how but it seemed like the robbery and the affair might be connected. Both of them spelled trouble for Donald and Shereen. But given she didn’t know the bookshop owners herself it might be considered prying a bit too far and Evie couldn’t risk rousing Olivia’s suspicions.

  Evie’s thoughts were interrupted as the door to the bookshop swooshed open and she heard Kitt say, ‘Donald, Shereen, there you are. How are you keeping?’

  Donald was a short man, or at least a good foot shorter than his wife. After closing the door he took off his flat cap to reveal a heap of grey, wild, wispy hair. ‘Back again, are we? Always good to see you,’ he said.

  Shereen was busy removing a pair of sheepskin gloves but once she had she gave Kitt a broad smile. ‘How are you doing, my love?’ she asked, squeezing the librarian’s arm on her way past. Olivia was looking down at the counter again, rather than making eye contact with her employers. Probably feeling a bit guilty for talking about them behind their backs.

  ‘All’s good at my end of the bookshelf,’ said Kitt. ‘I was just passing and couldn’t resist popping in. This is my friend, Evie.’

  Evie’s heart stopped for just a moment. She hadn’t expected to be formally introduced. Hastily, she arranged her curls around her scars as best she could and then offered both Donald and Shereen a smile.

  Donald returned her gesture with a quick ‘hello there’. Sheree
n, however, did a small double-take when she looked at Evie’s face and then tried to avert her eyes. Evie’s whole body sagged. She tried not to look back at Olivia but she could feel the young girl’s perfection taunting her in her peripheral vision.

  ‘Ee, what a mess,’ Shereen said, looking into a small, round mirror that was hanging just to the side of the counter as she flicked sections of her bobbed black hair into place. ‘It’s getting a bit wild out there.’

  ‘Any excitement this afternoon?’ Donald asked Olivia.

  Olivia shook her head. ‘Nothing earth-shattering. We have run out of pricing labels though.’

  Donald gurned. ‘Yes, well. We’ve decided to move away from pricing labels anyway. We’re just going to write the price in the inside cover in pencil so customers can rub it out afterwards if they want. It’s more cost-effective.’

  Shereen sighed at this but then looked at Kitt and Evie, seemingly remembering she was in the presence of customers, and said no more about it.

  Kitt stared at Evie and Evie stared right back. Had things got that bad? That they were unwilling to even stretch to the basic equipment required for running a shop? What about the insurance money that was due to them? Surely that would have calmed any financial fears? Unless, for some reason, the insurance money wasn’t forthcoming . . .

  ‘I know you must be sick of hearing this question after all that’s happened in the last couple of weeks,’ Kitt said to Shereen, ‘but is there anything I can do for you?’

  ‘You can catch the burglar the same way you caught that murderer a few weeks back, if you’re offering,’ said Donald. He had a strange look on his face. Evie couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.

  ‘I think the police have the matter well in hand,’ said Kitt.

  ‘They seemed to ’ave it in hand to begin with,’ said Shereen. ‘But some new officers have taken over the case for reasons unknown. They were in here this morning and I didn’t think much of either of them.’

  ‘Watch what yer saying, love,’ said Donald. ‘Kitt’ll have her boyfriend after you.’

  Evie did all she could to fight a smirk but Kitt’s face was locked in its most unimpressed expression, which always made her want to giggle.

  ‘As a tax-paying member of the community I daresay you’re permitted an opinion on the efficiency – or otherwise – of the police force,’ said Kitt. ‘But just out of interest, which officers paid you a visit?’

  ‘Can’t remember the name of the young PC that came knocking,’ said Donald. ‘But I won’t forget the woman who was with him in a hurry. She was in ’ere throwing her weight around. Said a violent crime case was now linked with the burglary.’

  ‘She asked us if we knew some lad – Alim something,’ said Shereen.

  ‘But it didn’t sound like much of a question, not the way she said it,’ Donald added.

  ‘Did you know this . . . Alim person?’ asked Kitt, doing a good job of making it seem like she had never heard the name before the Oakeses mentioned it.

  ‘No,’ said Shereen, with a defensive note in her voice. ‘They showed us a picture of him but we’d never seen him before.’

  At that juncture, one of the customers who had been browsing walked up to the counter. Olivia began serving the woman, who had a halo of tight, ebony curls and carried a shopping bag with the phrase ‘I don’t own my cat, my cat owns me’ printed across it. An uneasy silence fell on the others as the customer paid for several Georgette Heyer novels, packed them into her bag and exited the shop.

  ‘I’m so sorry you haven’t got those books back, and that they haven’t caught the culprit,’ said Kitt. ‘But I am sure the police are doing everything they can, and in a worst-case scenario hopefully you’ll get some insurance money?’

  ‘Hopefully,’ Donald said, his jaw tightening.

  Just as Evie was wondering if they were outstaying their welcome, Kitt cleared her throat and looked at her watch: ‘Ooh, I hadn’t realized it was quite so far into the afternoon. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go and check in at the library before my assistant goes home for the weekend. I’m going to have to come back next week to do my browsing.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Donald, his face brightening a little. ‘We’ll be pleased to see you as always.’

  ‘We’re always pleased to see our best customer,’ Shereen said, with a thin, weak smile.

  ‘It was nice chatting with you,’ said Olivia.

  ‘See you anon,’ said Kitt, pushing open the door.

  Evie said goodbye to Donald and Shereen and offered Olivia a polite nod, taking pains not to look at her perfect face straight on, before following Kitt out into the biting winter twilight.

  Twelve

  Evie had been bold enough to hope that Kitt had meant what she said to Donald Oakes about needing to dash to the library but her friend had insisted on visiting the last two bookshops on her list ‘just to keep up their cover’. Evie hadn’t been that convinced by this but given it was her idea to do some digging around on this case she could hardly complain, even if she was cringing at how swollen her feet would be when she took off her shoes later.

  ‘I take it you were playing a little game with Olivia, when you called yourself silly,’ Evie said to her friend.

  Kitt smiled but didn’t slow her pace. ‘I was trying to emulate Miss Marple.’

  ‘You’re a bit young for that comparison, at least in physical years spent on the planet.’

  ‘Yes, thank you for that backhanded compliment.’ Kitt sniffed. ‘But that’s not what I meant. Miss Marple is underestimated by many a character over the course of her time as an amateur detective. It was in my interests for Olivia to think of me as a bit dotty so she might do the same.’

  ‘Well, it seemed to have worked,’ Evie said, hopping up the stone steps to the large oak doorway at the front of the library. ‘She had plenty to say for herself.’

  ‘Didn’t she just,’ came Kitt’s response. ‘Here’s hoping Grace has one or two things to say for herself too.’

  The pair smiled at each other and marched their way through the ground-floor reception area. Evie had to walk double-time to keep up with Kitt as she darted up to the Women’s Studies section.

  Grace was sitting at her desk, which was just next to where Kitt usually sat. Grace’s short, black-brown curls swayed to the rhythm of her vigorous typing action. Though she was seated, Evie could still admire the turquoise silk of the dress she was wearing over her jeans. She always seemed to opt for garments in rich, deep colours, a choice that Evie thought must be at least part-inspired by her Indian heritage. Clothing from India had always struck Evie as so exotic and graceful; she would love to wear something like that herself but it didn’t seem all that appropriate when you had the skin tone of a person who had never seen the sun. Nor for a person who hailed from the small market town of Thirsk. Tweed jackets and wellington boots were much closer to the accepted dress code there.

  ‘Everything all right, Grace?’ Kitt asked, eyeing her assistant as she placed her trilby on her desk and hung her crimson winter coat over the back of her chair.

  Grace jumped and then put her hand over her heart. ‘Oh God, for a second there I thought you were Michelle. I didn’t have a chance to do much research at home before I left for my shift this morning and I couldn’t stand to wait till I clocked off to catch my next criminal but she’s made three checks of this floor in the past three hours. It’s like she can smell the fact that I might be using library resources for something other than bona fide university business.’

  Kitt smiled. ‘Well if anyone had the ability to sense that it would be her. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you typing that fast.’

  ‘I type fast enough usually, thank you very much,’ Grace said with a playful note in her voice.

  Kitt smirked and then, as her attentions turned from her assist
ant to her desk, did a double-take.

  ‘Grace . . . what is that?’ she said, pointing at a plush green Christmas tree ornament complete with a pair of goggle eyes, a scarf made of tinsel and a Santa hat perched at a jaunty angle where one might traditionally expect a star or a fairy to sit.

  Evie bit her lip as she examined it, wondering what mischief Grace had cooked up this time.

  Grace smiled, stood from her desk, leant over to the tree and flicked a switch at the base. At once the tree jumped to life, the plush material writhing to a high-pitched version of ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus’, which sounded like it was being sung by a trio of chipmunks.

  Kitt folded her arms, her gaze torn between the dancing ornament and Grace, who was mouthing the words to the song whilst doing her own little jig. All this distraction meant that Kitt hadn’t noticed quite how hard Evie was laughing. By the time the last note of the song sounded out, Evie was wiping tears from her eyes.

  ‘And what, may I ask, have I done to deserve this high-brow festive treat?’ Kitt asked.

  ‘Just been the best boss in the world, that’s all,’ said Grace, giving Kitt a playful punch on the arm.

  ‘I dread to think what you’d give the worst boss in the world. No time to hunt down criminals before work but time enough to select and buy this . . . heart-warming gift.’

  ‘Ugh.’ Grace looked at Evie and pointed her thumb at Kitt. ‘Kids these days, no gratitude.’

  ‘Thank you, Grace,’ said Kitt, though Evie could tell from her expression that she was already thinking about how she was going to get rid of the monstrosity. ‘If we could move onto more pressing issues though . . .’ She lowered her voice to make sure what she was about to say couldn’t be heard by the smattering of students trying to work in the vicinity, despite the dancing Christmas tree. ‘No sign of the books so far then?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Grace, taking Kitt’s cue and lowering her voice. ‘To be honest, the police will already be looking into this and with their resources are much more likely to find a hit than we are. Especially as the culprits might use back channels as opposed to official auctions.’