by Helen Cox
A short cut to success? Ruby had to be talking about Ricci. Chief Superintendent Percival said she had risen to the top of the ladder faster than anyone he had ever known; it was one of the things that had put her under suspicion.
‘What about that card in the middle?’ asked Grace. ‘The Lovers.’
Evie studied the card. It had a man and a woman standing next to each other, naked. That was what the world believed love was supposed to look like, or had for a very long time. Despite all the progress that had happened in the last twenty years or so, quite a few people still thought of two men or two women together as something out of the ordinary. Her parents were definitely among those people. And probably her aunts and uncles. The problem was, to Evie, being with Charley hadn’t felt out of the ordinary at all. At least, not in a negative way. To her, it had felt more natural than she ever could have expected. Still, it was too late now. She had told Charley that nothing else could happen and that was the end of it. Hopefully, she would look back on it in a few months and laugh. It would just be one of those strange blips. A story future boyfriends would no doubt beg her to tell.
‘The Lovers,’ said Ruby, wrenching Evie out of her thoughts, ‘in this context, suggests whoever’s behind the crimes at Bootham Bar Books has some big choice to make between lovers, or relationship paths. It could very well be this choice that’s driven them to commit the crimes. The Lovers card is never about a simple choice. It’s a decision that has long-lasting consequences.’
Evie and Grace frowned at each other again. After what Dennis had told them on the bus the other day, Ruby probably didn’t have to be psychic to read their minds right now. That said, as far as they knew she wasn’t aware of Shereen’s alleged affair and Kitt had been clear that they must not give away anything about the investigation that Ruby couldn’t have read in the local news. Thus the pair stayed silent.
There were a couple of people involved with this case who might have that kind of decision to make, but as far as any of them knew neither of them were Ricci. Holt was playing the victim, but what if this was all some elaborate ruse for a purpose they couldn’t yet figure out? However, the most likely person this card linked to was Shereen. The wife of the man now dead. The person who was rumoured to have been involved in staging the burglary for the insurance money. Shereen’s profile didn’t fit what Ruby had said about the Devil card but maybe somehow Ricci and Shereen had been responsible for different parts of this mess? Maybe that was why it was so difficult to pin it on one person, because more than one person had played a part.
‘The last card, sitting in the future position, is the ten of swords—’ Ruby began.
‘Yes, but I hardly think you need to be an expert in tarot reading to work this one out,’ Kitt interjected, at last breaking her silence.
‘Be my guest,’ Ruby said with a wide grin, gesturing at the card.
‘Fine,’ Kitt sighed, holding the card up so everyone had a fair look at it. She was doing all she could to make out that she didn’t want to oblige but after years of friendship it was obvious to Evie that Kitt couldn’t wait to communicate her expertise. Kitt lived to educate. As a rule, if she protested greatly about the sharing of knowledge, it was likely all for show. ‘This card depicts a man lying face down on the ground with ten swords stabbed through his back. I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest this card is about betrayal?’
Despite Kitt’s arid tone, Ruby nodded with enthusiasm. ‘It’s not just that though, love,’ she said. ‘It’s the intensity of the betrayal. It suggests this person might be very close to the people of Bootham Bar Books. Somebody in their midst who they think they can trust above all others, but they’re mistaken.’
Evie chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. Could this be a reference to Olivia? She had betrayed Shereen once before, could she be doing it again? If so, it would lend weight to the theory that Holt was somehow behind all this. But how, and more to the point why? Why would anyone stage their own blackmail over an affair they didn’t want anyone to know about?
Perhaps the card referred to Ricci, the person overseeing the burglary case. The person Donald and Shereen should have been able to trust, but couldn’t. Or maybe it related to Shereen herself. A person at the centre of this case who seemed like the victim but had had the opportunity to manipulate almost every element of the unfolding drama.
Shereen, Ricci and Holt. One of them was the Devil in all this and by the light of Ruby’s fireplace Evie wished for a little Christmas magic. For some small miracle that would help them unmask the killer and stop them before anyone else fell victim to their plot.
Thirty
After a somewhat surreal experience Evie had been looking forward to an hour of TV before bedtime. She was just about to drift off into a doze on the sofa when the doorbell rang. She looked at the clock that hung above the TV. Half past ten. Who calls round at this time? Granted she had shown up on Kitt’s doorstep much later than this on the odd occasion but if something drastic had happened with the case between now and leaving Ruby’s house, Kitt would more than likely have rung rather than called round.
Evie jumped off the sofa and turned off the TV before catching her reflection in the small mirror that hung on the back of the living room door and shrieking as she caught sight of the silicone strips she had forgotten she was wearing. The doorbell rang a second time. In panic, she peeled off the strips and shoved them in the nearest available receptacle, which in this instance was a VE celebratory mug sitting on the dresser with Winston Churchill’s face emblazoned across it.
‘Sorry, Winnie, help a girl out, won’t you?’ Evie said as she made sure the strips were out of sight. She then rearranged her curls over her scars as best she could and went through to the passage to answer the door.
On opening it she saw the back of a man’s head walking down the path. ‘DS Redmond?’ Evie called, wrapping her arms around herself as the winter chill bit at her.
Redmond turned and flashed Evie a smile. ‘Oh, you are in.’
‘Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t expecting company . . . as you can tell,’ she said indicating her clothes.
Redmond chuckled. ‘Not to worry. Just knocking off duty and on my way home I thought I’d come round and ask you out.’
Evie’s eyes widened. ‘Out?’
‘Well, it wasn’t my idea, like. I’ve been ordered to ask you out.’
‘Ordered? By who?’
‘Percival. Don’t know how he’s done it but he’s managed to get us an invite round t’ Ricci’s house tomorrow night.’
‘To her house?’ Evie said, and then decided the next time Redmond said something she would put every ounce of energy into not repeating it like a feather-brained parrot. ‘I know Percival said he was keen to find a way in there but is it really a good idea? There’s a chance we’ll rouse her suspicion and then the jig is up.’
‘It is a risk,’ said Redmond, ‘but between you, me and t’ gatepost, this case is really getting to Percival. His retirement party is on Saturday and he’s desperate to see this tied up before he goes. He’s past himself at the thought of leaving us under the possible control of a corrupt officer.’
‘I can understand that,’ said Evie. ‘So he’s stepped up the timetable.’
Redmond nodded. ‘There’s something else. Apparently, Percival was talking to Ricci the other day, just casual like, and she started talking about the fact that she’s going to get a patio.’
‘OK . . .’ said Evie. ‘Is that a police code I don’t understand?’
‘Y’ know folk bury things they never want found under t’ patio, don’t you?’ Redmond said.
‘Now that you mention it, I do seem to remember that coming up in an episode of Brookside circa 1993, yes.’
‘Well, according to Halloran your friend Kitt is keen on the idea that fiction and reality might not be that different. Sometimes she’s right.’
; Evie giggled. ‘Not according to Halloran, he’s pretty quick to shoot down her ideas.’
‘DI Halloran takes his work serious, like, and I don’t blame him for that,’ said Redmond. ‘But perhaps Ms Hartley might loosen ’im up a bit, eh?’
Not wishing to discuss her friend’s love life with someone she had only met on one occasion, Evie just offered a polite nod. The temptation of course was to agree with him but, truth be told, after the long day she’d had she could have done without Redmond just dropping round because he felt like it. There was also something about the officer she couldn’t quite warm to; though she couldn’t explain what, she decided to bring this visit to a close as quickly as possible.
‘So what reason did Percival give for having us traipsing round Ricci’s house? How did he land an invite?’
‘He said that it were most unhospitable of ’er not to have invited us round for a house-warming. Said it were station policy and as his retirement party is on Saturday, it’d better be sooner rather than later.’
‘Is it department policy?’ asked Evie.
‘No, it’s not, like, but she’s only been with us a few weeks and ’as no idea.’
‘Bit of a risk to lie about it like that,’ said Evie. ‘Here’s hoping she doesn’t ask around.’
‘With a bit of luck Ricci’ll be too busy trying to sort things out for t’ party.’
‘And she agreed to it, just like that?’
‘No, she was reluctant. Which of course only made us all the more suspicious.’
‘That could be just because she doesn’t want the people she’s managing trudging round her new house. Has she even unpacked yet?’
‘Doubt it. And I hear what yer saying. Might just be a bad time for ’er. But given everything else we know it’s more likely that she’s worried someone might uncover something she doesn’t want ’em to.’
‘And I’m supposed to go with you? To this party? That’s part of the plan?’
‘Percival said it would be best if you came along, like. Kitt’ll be coming with DI Halloran and she suggested she wanted you along too. To keep your eyes peeled for anything untoward, like the rest of us.’
‘I don’t know,’ Evie said. ‘The first time I met Ricci she wasn’t exactly what you would call friendly. Wouldn’t it seem a bit rude to just show up at her house after I’ve sort of had a run-in with her?’
‘The DI’s going to smooth it with ’er. ’E’s going to pretend I’ve taken a bit of a shine to you . . . given how sweet you seem I’m sure that won’t be ’ard for her to believe.’
‘That’s . . . kind of you to say,’ said Evie, thinking of the many things she had done over the years that could hardly be described as sweet. Some of them just the other evening with this man’s co-worker.
‘So, you don’t mind coming along with me? For t’ sake of the case, like?’
Evie smiled. ‘For the sake of the case I’m sure I can stand to be seen out with a dashing police officer for one evening.’
To her surprise, Redmond blushed at her comment and cleared his throat. ‘Well, now that you’ve ’eard the crazy scheme, I’ll let you relax for t’ evening. And I’ll pick you up on Saturday.’
‘I’ve got my own car,’ said Evie suddenly remembering that Charley was likely to be at this gathering and the two of them arriving together might be hurtful to her. ‘I could meet you there.’
‘Looks better if we show up together,’ Redmond said. ‘Sells t’ idea of our date a bit better.’
‘Good point,’ said Evie, unable to think of a way out of it.
‘So I’ll pick you up at seven?’
‘Yes,’ said Evie with a smile. ‘Seven.’
Redmond nodded and walked back along the path towards his car. Evie watched him get into his vehicle, trying to convince herself that Charley was a professional and would understand her showing up with Redmond would be part of the cover story. Slowly, she closed the door and wondered when she would be able to do the same when it came to her feelings for Charley.
Thirty-One
Evie was pleasantly surprised that Redmond kept things businesslike on the way to Ricci’s house in Helmsley. If they had taken the trip during daylight hours, they would have been able to spend the fifty-minute journey commenting on the quaint details of the villages that lay between points A and B. The glimpses of an ornate, early Georgian house built by local architect Thomas Atkinson at Sutton on the Forest, the views over the Howardian Hills and the decorative gate of Sproxton Hall which, Kitt had once explained to Evie, was a monument built in honour of Admiral Nelson.
As it was a dark and misty night, however, the pair had been forced to find other topics and, given their objective this evening, conversation naturally turned to the case. Between them, Evie and Redmond had turned over every aspect of it once again. Redmond was particularly interested to learn about the visits they had paid to the bookshops and what they had uncovered when they spoke to Holt, and he was also attentive when she described Halloran’s Indiana Jones-esque, chair-hopping antics at the auction house. That is, he was particularly attentive to her words. He was laughing so hard at what she had to say she was a little concerned he might accidentally drive them into a ditch in a fit of hysterics.
Though the details of the case were grim, Evie preferred that to personal chit-chat. She chided herself for not cutting Redmond more slack. He was a police officer, after all, trying to do the right thing and solve the case. But for whatever reason she just couldn’t feel at ease around him. There was something stiff about his manner. He paused before almost every sentence he uttered and whenever they stopped at traffic lights or at a junction, Evie could feel his eyes on her and she didn’t much like the feeling. Perhaps the chap was just on edge because he was about to enter into a madcap undercover operation at his boss’s house. Evie had to remember that Redmond and his colleagues had been through a great deal in the past week. Though to Evie’s mind, nobody had been through more than Charley.
At last Redmond turned his silver Toyota into the driveway indicated by the satnav screen. An outside light beamed on as their car approached the white stone house. Like the other houses on this stretch, it wasn’t exactly what you’d call a mansion but it wasn’t small either. Evie guessed it must have at least four bedrooms by the size of it. Given the address of ‘32a’ she expected it to be somehow smaller, perhaps even a terraced house. But it looked like a relatively new build so the odds were that it was built on a convenient spare plot of land between one house and another.
‘Guess now we know what she did with all t’ money she’s earnt,’ said Redmond. ‘How much do houses like these cost out ’ere?’
Evie shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t even like to guess.’ Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed the door number written in black lettering next to the door frame. ‘32a,’ she said.
‘Bit creepy, in’t it?’ said Redmond. ‘Seeing that, knowing it was written on the hand of a murder victim.’
‘Does Ricci know?’ asked Evie. ‘That her house number was found on Donald’s hand?’
‘No,’ said Redmond. ‘We kept it out of t’ report and said it was just an “a” like we thought at first.’
‘I guess we’d better go in,’ said Evie, taking a deep breath.
‘You don’t have to, you know?’ said Redmond. ‘It’s my job to go inside there, not yours. You’re doing us a favour. I can drop you down’t pub in town and pick you up in a couple of hours, just say t’ word.’
‘Thanks,’ Evie said, smiling at Redmond’s thoughtfulness and feeling guilty again for not taking more of a shine to him. ‘But I can’t let Kitt down, or Ch— or Banks or Halloran. I want to help, if I can.’
Redmond nodded but didn’t say any more. He took off his seat belt and got out of the car, Evie following suit.
The pair walked towards the door, crunching over gravel. It wa
s a bit difficult to walk over uneven surfaces in the vintage kitten heels Evie had selected for the evening but they were the shoes that went best with her black pencil skirt and a white blouse patterned with tiny red hearts.
Redmond knocked at the door. Evie’s stomach muscles clenched. A moment later the door opened and Ricci’s face appeared in the door frame, holding a glass of wine.
‘Oh, it’s the love birds,’ she said with a smile. ‘Come in.’
So, Halloran had done a good job of selling the idea that Redmond had taken a shine to Evie.
‘That’s a nice frock, ma’am,’ Redmond said.
Ricci looked down at the blue satin dress she was wearing. The soft material made her features seem less sharp than they had the first time she and Evie crossed paths. ‘It’s a bit much for tonight, but I haven’t even begun to unpack my wardrobe yet so you’re all being treated to the outfit I wore at the dinner to celebrate my promotion to superintendent. It won’t get another showing in a long time so make the most of it.’
Redmond issued that snorty little laugh of his and stepped through into the hallway. Evie followed. The faint beat of whatever music was playing in the living room could be heard through the walls. It sounded like some gentle fifties crooning, which lifted Evie’s spirits right away. The rich velvet of Dean Martin’s voice was just what she needed right now to keep it together.
‘You’ll have to forgive the sparse feel to the premises just now,’ said Ricci. ‘I haven’t long moved in and everything’s still in boxes upstairs.’
‘Moving house is t’ worst,’ said Redmond.
‘No argument from me there. You’ve got some catching up to do,’ said Ricci as she took a left into the living room. A few people were standing in the centre of the room and, over by the fireplace, Evie spotted Kitt and Charley. ‘Old Percival’s already had too much. Halloran had to take him out in the garden to get some fresh air. I told them not to be long out there – it’s bitter.’
