Hattie Goes to Hollywood: Shenanigans, fun & intrigue in a new mystery series!

by Caroline James

  ‘Er,’ Hattie began, ‘I think you’ll find that isn’t quite true.’ She looked beyond John and Nancy, towards the path, where a surprise guest stood at the top of the steps.

  Venetia was resplendent in a dark cashmere dress, highlighting layers of jewels that flashed on her fingers, throat and ears. She smiled as she held the arm of a dapper-looking man with jet-black hair, who wore an expensively cut suit.

  ‘Hello, everyone!’ Venetia called out. ‘Do come and meet Victor.’

  GUESTS CONTINUED to arrive and when Hattie was certain that nearly everyone was there, she invited them to help themselves to the food.

  Grace, who was one of the last to appear, sat at a table with Alf and Judy. She ate ravenously and made several trips to the buffet table, keeping her distance from Nancy, who sat beside John, on the other side of the patio, with the vicar and his family. Penny was breastfeeding as she spooned potato salad into her mouth and Nancy looked uncomfortable, with the baby and children so close.

  Joan and Arnie sat with Harry, Janine and Derek Jones who entertained the table with quotes and answers from some of his successful quizzes. Venetia and Victor kept to themselves, but Victor made sure that Venetia’s glass was topped up, as he went backwards and forwards from the bar and buffet.

  Suddenly, Camilla appeared. She walked confidently through the garden, dressed in a smart pinstriped suit, and headed straight to the bar. ‘Don’t worry,’ she called out to the goggle-eyed guests, ‘I’ve learnt my lesson and have come in a taxi, which is booked to take me home.’ She knocked back the drink and reached for another, then looked around for somewhere to sit. Seeing Venetia with a man she didn’t recognise, she walked over to their table and joined them.

  As Hattie mingled with her guests, she kept an eye on the entrance to the cottage. There was one more invitee, who so far hadn’t shown.

  She sighed as she began to accept that Reggie wasn’t coming to her party.

  Hattie knew that he’d returned from his holiday, for Joan had been delighted to tell her, when Hattie had called into the shop the previous day.

  ‘He looks as fit as a butcher’s dog,’ Joan had commented as she parcelled up a loaf of bread. ‘Tanned and ’andsome,’ she’d added and had given Hattie a wink.

  Hattie realised that she’d missed Reggie in the time that he’d been in Lanzarote. She could kick herself for being so silly. At her age, she should enjoy any moment of pleasure that came her way, not knock it on the head as if it had no importance. Reggie was fun and good company; he made her laugh, both in and out of the bedroom.

  And now she had blown it.

  Hattie picked at food from the buffet and filling her plate, sat down beside Harry.

  ‘It’s a cracking party,’ Harry said. He had one arm around Janine and held a sausage roll between his fingers with the other. As he took a bite of the flaky pastry, he looked up as a man entered the garden. ‘Oh, that’s grand.’ He smiled. ‘I wondered when the Sheriff of Hollywood would show up.’

  Hattie turned hopefully, and to her joy she saw Reggie, with a package in his hand. Her heart fluttered as her face broke into a smile. ‘He’s here,’ she whispered.

  But Hattie’s joy was short-lived.

  Following in Reggie’s footsteps, came Elaine. She was dressed to the nines in a very short skirt that emphasised her luscious long legs. Automatically, Hattie clenched her knees together and hid her pins under the table.

  Reggie stood on the patio and looked around. When he saw Hattie, he walked over. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Happy housewarming party, I’ve bought you a gift.’

  Hattie forced a smile and held out her cheek, which Reggie kissed. She felt his warm skin and smelt his aftershave and her stomach did a cartwheel. ‘You didn’t need to bring anything,’ Hattie said and glared at Elaine, who stood behind Reggie.

  ‘It’s only a piece of pottery, locally made in Lanzarote.’ He pushed it across the table. ‘I thought it would look nice in your conservatory.’

  ‘It’s very pretty,’ Elaine said. ‘Reggie asked me to wrap it.’

  Hattie resisted the urge to pick up the pottery and hurl the package at Elaine’s smug face. She gritted her teeth. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’

  ‘Reggie, look,’ Elaine touched Reggie’s tanned forearm. ‘There’s a bar and it’s got bubbles.’

  As the pair turned to help themselves to a drink, Hattie bit her lip. Her heart felt as though a knife had sliced into it and was slowly carving it apart.

  To her surprise, she realised that she was jealous of Elaine, with her long legs, slim body and attractive face. But Hattie was a trouper and she had her guests to consider. Excusing herself from the table, she nodded to Alf, who’d caught her eye as she walked across the patio.

  The evening was starting to close in and as the sun, like a bruise, sank lower in the sky and the light of day began to diminish, Alf flicked a switch. Everyone gasped as pretty lights and lanterns lit up the garden. The air had begun to cool but as Alf lit the firepits and invited everyone to join him by the flames, the logs soon blazed and crackled, sending out heat as the partygoers gathered around.

  ‘What a wonderful party!’ Janine called out.

  ‘Happy housewarming, Hattie,’ said Harry as everyone clapped their hands.

  37

  Hattie stood by the pond and looked at her guests. Their faces glowed in the firelight as they made themselves comfortable on chairs that Alf had arranged around the firepits. Judy and her team handed out drinks and soft wool blankets to wrap around any shoulders that felt a chill.

  ‘Speech!’ someone called out. ‘Yes, do!’ people chorused and turned to Hattie with expectation.

  ‘Well,’ Hattie began, ‘I would like to thank you all for coming here today and for welcoming me to Hollywood, and indeed, I am about to make a speech.’

  ‘Not too long!’ Harry called out. ‘Derek and I have Christmas crime to crack this December.’

  ‘I won’t make it too long, thank you, Harry,’ Hattie said, ‘but I want to begin by telling you a story, it’s one that you all know, but perhaps some of you don’t know all the outcome.’

  One or two people sat forward with interest as Hattie began.

  ‘When I moved to Hollywood, I didn’t know what to expect. My dear husband had died, and my aunt had left Holly Cottage to me in her will. It seemed natural for me to return to Cumbria, a county that I love so much, to pick up the pieces of my life.’ Hattie was thoughtful as she stood before the guests.

  ‘I’ve been made very welcome, from the moment I stepped into Joan and Arnie’s shop and tasted their fine produce.’ She paused and looked at the shopkeepers. Joan beamed and even Arnie had a trace of a smile on his lips. ‘Meeting the vicar and his family,’ Hattie continued, ‘and being involved in the fete and more recently having the honour of becoming a God mum.’ Hattie smiled and Penny looked up from the infant at her breast. Roger had his arm around the back of Penny’s chair and returned Hattie’s smile.

  ‘But I was bored and when Alf, who you all know, suggested that I get a job,’ Hattie nodded towards the handyman who was busy lighting a roll-up and looked surprised when he heard his name, ‘it seemed quite natural for me to fall into the role which, many of you label me, “Miss Marple”.’

  Glasses were topped up as guests relaxed, enjoying Hattie’s story.

  ‘I know that you are all aware of what I do, it’s no secret now,’ Hattie said and looked at the eager faces, her eyes travelling to Reggie’s and resting for a moment, before turning to Marjorie. ‘My neighbour, Marjorie, asked me to look into the death of her late husband and over the last weeks, I have found nothing that suggested that Barry died from any other cause than the one that the police had announced at the time.’ Hattie lowered her voice. ‘It’s very sad but there’s nothing that we can do to bring Barry back.’

  Camilla had moved towards Marjorie and placed her arm around the older woman’s shoulder. One or two guests, who witnessed this, looked quizzica
l.

  ‘I’m happy to say that my investigation has bought step-daughter and step-mother closer together.’ Hattie looked at Marjorie and Camilla. ‘They both understand too, what happened to poor Helen, Camilla’s mother, and I hope that their grieving will bring them even closer.’

  Hattie paused. She reached for a drink and was thoughtful as she sipped. No one here need know of the conversation that she’d had with Marjorie and Camilla and it would serve no purpose to drag the facts up. Hattie knew that there was nothing that Camilla could have done to save her mother. Hattie had spoken to Harry, who checked the reports at the time and the pathologist had acknowledged that Helen died at approximately twelve-thirty in the afternoon. Camilla didn’t arrive back at the house until late afternoon, too late to have saved her mother. Camilla’s only crime was to destroy the suicide note. Yes, she was wrong to have done that, but Hattie felt sure that Camilla had paid the emotional price, very heavily.

  ‘And I’m pleased to say,’ Hattie lightened her tone, ‘that a very kind benefactor has ensured that Marjorie and Camilla will be staying in the district for some time to come.’

  Guests looked at each other with baffled faces.

  John looked more baffled than most and when Camilla and Marjorie called out to thank him, Nancy spun around and, staring at him in shock, slapped him hard across the face. John rubbed his burning cheek and, standing up, moved away from Nancy.

  ‘It wasn’t John,’ a voice called out and eyes turned to see who had spoken. Venetia was on her feet and walked forward. ‘It was me,’ she said, her diamonds dazzling. ‘I would have kept it a secret, but I can’t stand here and see this man, who almost ruined my life, take the credit.’

  Hattie nodded to herself, remembering the name, ‘Hargreaves,’ on Marjorie’s bank statement.

  ‘Camilla deserves a break, as does Marjorie.’ Venetia walked towards John. ‘They’ve both had a very difficult time and I was in a position to source and pay for the best legal counsel in the country to help Camilla. I also want to ensure that Marjorie keeps her home because, sure as hell, my heartless ex-husband doesn’t give a damn about a loyal employee’s widow.’ Venetia’s tone was scathing as she glared at John, her nostrils flaring and chin high.

  John began to respond but his words were a jumble and Venetia held up her hand to silence him. ‘Enough!’ she commanded and with a look that would wither a wild animal, she returned to her chair and took Victor’s hand.

  Suddenly, Nancy threw back her chair and began to scream at Venetia. ‘You ruined John financially!’ She had beads of sweat on her forehead. ‘You are such a stuck-up cow, always thinking you were better than everyone else.’ Shaking with anger, Nancy moved towards Venetia. ‘You made his life a misery!’

  But Harry and Derek had risen to their feet too, and seeing their menacing presence, Nancy fell back on her chair.

  Hattie turned to Nancy. ‘I wouldn’t be so hasty in your accusations,’ she said calmly. ‘John Hargreaves’ downfall, both personally and perhaps financially, has been bought on by no one but himself.’

  Hattie paused and her guests, eager to hear more, sat forward.

  ‘But before I finish,’ Hattie said, ‘I do have a couple of things that still remain a mystery and I’d like to clear them up.’

  ‘I’ve done nothing,’ Nancy said. She stared at Hattie, her face sulky as she turned to look for John.

  With his glass replenished, John was keeping his distance and now stood in the shadows, gripping his drink and wondering what on earth was going to happen next.

  ‘My queries concern you,’ Hattie stared at Nancy. ‘A little bird told me that at Marland Manor, you like to make additional room checks during the night.’ Hattie raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m told, off the record, by someone in authority, that these visits appear to go unrecorded. There are no notes of additional visits in the logs.’ Hattie leaned in. ‘Are you at all curious to know why I’ve taken such an interest in your nocturnal wanderings?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Nancy was beginning to look uncomfortable.

  ‘Well, when I was investigating one suicide, I heard of two more, totalling three, which seemed statistically odd in a village of so few residents. Barry and Helen Delaney’s were accountable, but one case baffled me and that was the case of Mary Yarwood, the vicar’s first wife.’ Hattie emphasised the name. Roger, who was nearby, cradling two sleepy children on his knee, suddenly perked up.

  ‘Mary, I’m told, was distraught at the death of her father,’ Hattie said. ‘I’m sure that you would confirm that, vicar?’

  ‘Traumatised.’ Roger nodded his head and looked grave. ‘She never got over it and acted most strangely, as we all know.’ His voice trailed off to a whisper and he reached out to take Penny’s hand.

  ‘Mary’s father was a gentleman, wasn’t he, Nancy?’ Hattie asked, but receiving no response, continued. ‘He’d been in your care for some time and died alone, in his room, during the early hours of the morning.’ Hattie paused to let her words sink in.

  ‘When Mary hung herself in the church, no one appeared surprised.’ Hattie turned to the guests. ‘But, I asked myself, why would a woman who in truth knew that her dad was probably approaching the end of life, take such drastic action?’

  ‘He was an old man,’ Nancy said. ‘His death was natural. Mary couldn’t handle it, and anyway, she was off her rocker, we all knew that.’ Nancy looked around for confirmation, but the guests just gawped, shaking their heads.

  ‘Well, Nancy,’ Hattie’s voice began to rise as she made her point, ‘I have been told by a carer at Marland Manor, a woman who has worked for you for years, that she saw you giving injections, in the night, and these were never entered into the logs.’

  Hattie stood before Grace and stared at her. Her body language made it clear that Grace was the informer. Hattie crossed her fingers behind her back and continued, ‘and that carer is here tonight, aren’t you, Grace?’

  Grace, who was sipping a whisky, began to splutter. Her face was puce and she rose to her feet. ‘You promised me that you’d never mention my name!’ She stared at Hattie in horror.

  ‘You bitch!’ Nancy was on her feet.

  Harry walked quickly over to Nancy’s chair and stood behind it, while Derek hastened over to Grace.

  ‘I’ve spoken to the police investigating your bank accounts,’ Hattie looked at Nancy, ‘and although you think that their investigations are over, I can assure you that they’ve only just begun.’

  ‘Whatever are you saying?’ Nancy asked. ‘How could I be here, with John, if I was still under investigation.’ Nancy moved to pick up her bag. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She looked angrily at Hattie with hate in her eyes. ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘Can you explain your cash payments to Grace?’

  It was a shot in the dark and Hattie re-crossed her fingers behind her back.

  ‘Cash payments?’ Nancy shook her head.

  Grace suddenly sank back in her chair. It was as though the stuffing had been knocked out of her as realisation sank in. Why ever had she confided in Hattie? Now, the truth was out, and everyone would know of her arrangement with Nancy.

  ‘Oh, it was always cash,’ Grace said, ‘you were very careful!’ She glared at Nancy.

  Bingo! Hattie whispered to herself; her bluff had worked!

  ‘But you should have paid me more for my silence, or we wouldn’t be here now!’ Grace had unravelled and she flung her glass at Nancy.

  The glass missed and spun into the pond. Chairs scraped on concrete as guests scattered to get out of the way. Gathering speed, Grace hurled herself on Nancy, pulling at her hair. Clumps of extensions came away in Grace’s fingers as Nancy fought hard. She kicked and spat and punched the older woman in the stomach.

  John, ashen-faced, looked on.

  Harry and Derek struggled to stop the warring pair from killing each other and the policemen thudded to the ground as they held on tight and grapp
led with the hysterical women.

  Suddenly, blue lights flashed in the lane, illuminating reinforcements from Marland police station, who had been pre-warned to expect trouble, and now flooded into the garden, hastening forward to assist with arrests.

  They soon had the situation under control.

  ‘This is quite a party,’ Joan said, her eyes gleaming as she stood with Arnie and watched Nancy and Grace being led away. Joan caught Hattie’s eye and asked, ‘If what’s left of the buffet is going spare, shall I help you out?’

  ‘All yours,’ Hattie said.

  ‘We’ll pray for them.’ Roger shook his head as he witnessed the commotion. He placed his hand on Hattie’s shoulder. ‘The good Lord will deal with the guilty in his own way.’

  Hattie smelt the sickly spicy scent of his aftershave and, forcing herself to get closer, she whispered in Roger’s ear, ‘The good Lord will be dealing with you too. You’re a depraved sex maniac who has let down your wife, your children, and most of all, your church!’ Hattie shrugged his hand away.

  Roger’s face turned ashen and the tendons stood out on his neck. Unable to speak and with tight shoulders, he hung his head and went to find his family.

  HATTIE SAW that Camilla was leaving with Marjorie. The two women walked alongside Venetia and Victor. They were deep in conversation, as they put the pieces together and thanked Venetia profusely for her kindness and generosity. They were unaware of John who had moved to the bar. He picked up a bottle and helping himself, poured a very large whisky and knocked it back.

  ‘I hope you’ve no personal possessions in Nancy’s apartment at Marland Manor,’ Hattie stood beside John, ‘the police will be searching it, any time soon.’

  ‘Why don’t you just bloody well mind your own business.’ John felt like punching Hattie. Not only had the woman ruined his relationship with Nancy and his source of funding, but she’d also revealed that Nancy had been conning him for years. He’d never imagined that his manager had been hastening the death of residents and no doubt dipping her fingers into their accounts.