Deader Still

by Jordaina Sydney Robinson

  A group of older men dressed in shades of brown or green sipped what I assumed was tea from plastic cups as they stood around the entrance to one of the sheds. It didn’t matter how warm it was, tea was always the drink of choice.

  “It just seems wrong to let all his hard work be for nought,” said a dumpy man with a Homer Simpson comb-over. Why didn’t they realise we could see they were bald on top?

  Sabrina pointed to the speaker. “That’s Eddie. The one who all the others said was Derek’s allotment nemesis.”

  “What do you want us to do, Eddie?” an even shorter man in a Christmas patterned pullover asked.

  “I though we could take it in turns to tend his allotment and then enter his produce in the competition, as a tribute,” said Eddie.

  “You want us to work on his plot and then enter him into the competition?” Christmas pullover asked. “Isn’t the opposition tough enough as it is? Why would we add someone else we’d have to beat? He’s dead. It doesn’t matter to him if he wins or not but it matters to me if I win.”

  “Billy’s got a point,” said another man, tall and lean like a beanpole, his muddy fingers wrapped around his cup like it was the dead of winter. “And he knew he didn’t stand a chance against my carrots anyway. He pulled them up so he wouldn’t have to face the humiliation. Why would I spend my time making his produce as good as mine?”

  “I though it might be nice for Rebecca,” Eddie said with a shrug.

  “If it means that much to her, Rebecca can come down here and tend the plot herself,” beanpole said.

  “Who knew allotment life was so ruthless?” I asked and pointed to Eddie. “Also, he did it.”

  “Did what?” Sabrina asked.

  “He killed Derek.”

  “Madame Zorina said Derek died of a heart attack,” Sabrina reminded me.

  “I thought you’d called murder because of the sabotaged wheelbarrow?” I asked.

  “I said it was possible.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t care. He totally did it.”

  “Based on what?” Sabrina asked.

  “Based on he’s being so nice when the others couldn’t care less, and didn’t you say he was in direct competition with Derek?” I asked.

  Sabrina frowned and glanced around the group of men that Eddie was still trying to convince to help him tend Derek’s plot. “Maybe he feels guilty about something.”

  “Yeah, murdering him.”

  “Or maybe he was the one who sabotaged the wheel barrow,” Sabrina suggested.

  I stared at Sabrina. “Which murdered him. Were you not listening?”

  “Okay, how about we debate the murderous wheelbarrow while searching the shed, hmm?” Sabrina asked, stepping away from the still arguing group of men.

  “Fine,” I grumbled and followed Sabrina through the patchwork of plots. “How do you know which shed is his?”

  All the sheds looked exactly the same to me. Maybe they’d gotten a bulk-buy discount. Sabrina pointed to the splash of colour on the door that was only just visible from our angle. “The people at the wake made a reference to the poster in the door.”

  We veered around to the front of the shed. It was creosote stained with a black plastic doorknob and was big enough to comfortably house one average sized person. Maybe two skinny people. There was a mock up of Lord Kitchener’s “Your country needs you” poster. Only instead of “country” it said “allotment”.

  “Do you think we can get away with picking the lock and slipping inside?” Sabrina asked, checking around us.

  “Probably.” I looked back at the group of men, still grumbling. They really had no reason to be focused on Derek’s shed. By the time I turned back Sabrina was holding the door ajar. “Are you getting better at this lock picking? That has to be a record.”

  “Door was open,” Sabrina said with a grin and then slipped inside.

  I followed, closing the door quietly behind me. “What exactly do you think we’re going to find in here?”

  “I’m hoping for some sort of clue that tells us where the money’s gone.”

  “No, I thought we were looking for Dolly Mixtures,” I mumbled. “Can you be a little more specific?”

  Sabrina didn’t turn around from her seed packet rifling. “Well, if the horse was a winner and presuming Derek did place a bet, where has the money gone? Maybe he thought his luck was in and placed another bet. So a betting slip. Dog track ticket stubs. A casino receipt. Something that will give us a clue.”

  I began moving the shovels, spades, hoes and rakes behind the door and tapping the floor for loose panels. I’d learned that lesson a while ago. “You know this is Scarborough, right? The nearest thing here to a casino is Mecca Bingo.”

  Sabrina snorted quietly and moved to the shelf below. I shoved the tools back into the corner and tried to move a bag of fertiliser out of the way to check the small cupboard behind it. I opened one of the cupboard doors and stopped. I looked back at the fertiliser.

  “Did Derek die directly after lugging that bag of fertiliser to the shed?” I asked Sabrina.

  She nodded and continued with her search. “Think so.”

  “So, like, he dragged the fertiliser to the shed and died? He didn’t drag it here, plant a few mushrooms or whatever and then die?” I asked.

  “You don’t plant mushrooms. They’re a fungus.”

  I straightened up and stared at her. “What?”

  “What’s your point?” Sabrina turned to face me.

  “This.” I pointed to the nearly empty bag of fertiliser. “If he dragged it in and died straightway how come the bag’s nearly empty? Or if this is an old bag, where’s the new one?”

  Sabrina scanned her half of the shed. “It’s not over here.”

  I gestured to my full-bag-of-fertiliser-free side of the shed. “So, where is it?”

  “Maybe someone stole it.”

  “It’s cow poo, not gold.”

  “It’s not actually just cow poo. It’s a—”

  I held my hands up. “I don’t care what other animal poo is mixed in. What’s our next move since neither the money nor betting stubs are in here?”

  “We need to confirm Derek did place the bet in the first place,” Sabrina said. “Then find out if he’d collected the money. If he did, then we have to find out if he placed another bet or kept the money. If he kept the money, we need to find out when he collected it and where he went between collecting the money and coming here.”

  I frowned at Sabrina. “That seems like a lot of work. Can’t we just assume most of that and skip to the last step and find the money?”

  Sabrina folded her arms. “Sure. How do you want to do that? Since we don’t know whether he placed the bet at all, if he collected the money or if he bet it away again.”

  “Okay. Let’s just assume he placed the bet like he told the travel agent girl he was going to. Let’s assume he was in the bookies when the race was happening.” I held my hand up to shush Sabrina when she opened her mouth to speak. “If I’d made that type of bet, I’d have been in there. Let’s assume he collected the money right then because if it were me, I’d be terrified of losing the slip. He walks out of the bookies with that much cash on him. What’s he going to do with it? He doesn’t go to put the deposit on the cruise straightaway. He doesn’t put it back in the bank or pension fund or whatever straightaway either for whatever reason. He didn’t have it in the house, at least nowhere we looked, and that would be unlikely anyway since how would he explain that away to Rebecca. So what else can he do with it? He hides it here.”

  “That’s a whole load of ‘if’s you’ve got there, Miss Marple,” Sabrina said, but she was looking around the shed as she spoke. “But it’s not in here so where else could it be?”

  “How about in that missing bag of fertiliser?” I kicked the nearly empty one at my feet. “We need to find a bag like this.”

  Sabrina spread her arms out and gestured around us. “Every bag of fertiliser in this place is a bag
like that. How are we supposed to identify which was Derek’s? Hope he had his name sewn into the back?”

  “Can we at least check the ones we can see?”

  “And what?” Sabrina shook her head at me. “Just hope that he stashed the money inside. And hope that whoever stole the bag hasn’t found the money yet.”

  I nodded and gave a small shrug. “Yeah.”

  “So you’re happy to stick your hands in cow poo but not take the time to be methodical about this and search the bookies?”

  I stepped back from Sabrina. “Whoa, who said anything about sticking my hands in it?”

  “How are you going to search the fertiliser without sticking your hands in it? Just empty it out onto the floor and hope nobody notices?”

  “We could just …” I left the sentence hanging as I tried to think of anything we could do that would eliminate the need for me to stick my hand in bags of all sorts of animal poo and who knew what else.

  “Yeah?” Sabrina asked after a short silence.

  “I’m getting summoned,” I said before we could talk about it anymore.

  “Okay. Good luck. Be awesome.”

  “Search those bags!” I said as I was pulled away.

  Sabrina’s tirade of expletives was still echoing in my ears as I landed in the corridor outside the assembly hall like always. I couldn’t see who had summoned me but the rest of the group stood outside. Tommy moved next to me.

  “What do you think’s going to happen today?” he asked, glancing around at the group.

  “Well, given how this assessment has gone so far I think someone’s going to murder Matthew.”

  “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?” Tommy nodded with a smile. “The police give you a hard time last night?”

  I held up my hand. “Please. Do you know how many times I’ve been questioned as a possible murderer? I’m a pro.”

  “I’m not sure if that makes me feel more secure in your company or less,” Tommy mused.

  “Well, so far, nobody I like has been murdered so you’re safer than everyone else here.” I touched the wooden door frame behind me. Better to be safe than for Tommy to be dead.

  Tommy’s smile grew. “I really like you, Bridget.”

  I was sure Pete had said something similar to me when we’d suspected him of being the murderer last time, and he’d turned out to be innocent. Still …

  “This isn’t the part where you say ‘… so I feel really bad about having to murder you’ is it?” I asked.

  Tommy laughed. A proper laugh that made his chest vibrate and called everyone’s attention briefly our way. “Ah, Bridget.”

  I pointed to him. “That’s not a no.”

  “No, this isn’t that part.” He smiled and shook his head as he looked around the group. “Do you think the assessment will still go ahead?”

  “Yep,” I said with a sigh.

  He arched an eyebrow at me. “Really? With three of the four people in charge of this assessment dead?”

  “Yep.”

  “Surely not. No, I think they’ll cancel it.”

  “Nah, it’ll go ahead.” Warren spoke up from my other side. “These idiots are nothing if not sticklers for procedure. And that won’t help, Red.”

  “What?” I looked down at myself to see what he was gesturing to.

  “Putting your back to the wall. Ghosts can walk through them, remember?”

  I frowned as I looked behind me. I hadn’t realised I’d done it. “They might be able to walk through them but I’m pretty sure they can’t bring something heavy through to hit me on the back of the head with.”

  “How sure?” Warren asked and grinned. “You never listen when Eleanor speaks.”

  “I goddamn hate this place,” I muttered, moving away from the wall.

  Twenty minutes later when everyone else had been summoned the doors of the hall opened and a sweating Matthew called us inside. Before we had even taken our seats he was listing the instructions for the exam. Nancy hovered at the front with Hannah, who was standing as close to Matthew as she could without actually being inside his clothes. If I had actually cared about anything other than surviving this assessment I might have a girl-to-girl chat with her about making herself too available. It was a flip in attitude from the last time I’d seen them together. Maybe Jenny’s death had made her question what was important in life, or the afterlife.

  And then I saw something that brought a smile to my face. Nancy stepped to the side and revealed Sabrina. She gave me a huge smile and a quick wave before Nancy scowled at her and whispered something in her ear. Sabrina smiled as she replied. Nancy’s eyes widened and she subtly stepped closer to Hannah. Sabrina gave me a thumbs up. I shook my head at her and mouthed the word “troublemaker”. Her grin widened as if I’d paid her a compliment.

  An older lady from somewhere in the middle of the group raised her hand, interrupting Matthew, who was still droning on about the rules. “Can we—”

  “No.” Matthew started the timer on the desk. “You’ve got three hours to finish this exam. Get on with it.”

  “Well, I think we should talk about it,” the lady said. “Someone in this room killed Jenny. And Gracie. And the doctor. Unless you did it, I’d have thought you’d want to find out who it was because, by the look of it, you’re next.”

  Matthew jerked back. “Did you just threaten me?”

  “No. Of course not.” The lady quickly scanned the room to make sure everyone believed her. “But don’t you think we should weed out the killer for our sake? For your sake?”

  Matthew jabbed a finger at her. “There! You just threatened me again. You must be the killer. Quick! Someone! Get her!” His eyes frantically darted around the room for someone to do as he commanded. Nancy and Hannah moved to her while everyone else remained in their seats. Sabrina was watching the drama unfold with her mouth hanging open.

  I stared at him. “Are you serious right now?”

  “And her too.” Matthew jabbed a finger in my direction. “I knew it. She’s been in on it all along.”

  Nancy changed course and headed towards me, arms outstretched. I gave her my best quelling stare and she came to a stumbling stop in front of my desk.

  Warren gestured to Matthew with his head. “He’s got a point, Red.”

  “He didn’t make a point, you nincompoop. And you say I don’t listen.” I stood up and faced the group, pointedly turning my back on Nancy. “I’d like to know who the killer is just as much as all of you – probably more – but that’s not going to help us pass these assessments. So how about we just take this test and go to lunch?”

  “She did it.” The woman pointed at me. “Crazy Jessica was right all along. That’s why she doesn’t want us to talk about it.”

  I held my hands up. “No, no. You guys talk about it by all means. Knock yourselves out. But just remember how productive our previous round of questioning was, and that we were all in the room when Gracie was stabbed, and everyone was in the forest when Jenny was bludgeoned. So unless someone confesses by accident or you have a fool-proof way of telling if someone’s lying then you’re just talking yourselves in circles.” I looked around the room. “Does anyone have a fool-proof plan or would anyone like to confess?” No one volunteered. “Well then, let’s just take this utterly stupid test that has no bearing on our ability to adjust whatsoever and go to lunch.”

  Matthew looked around the room and pointed to me. “What she said.”

  “You’re such a party pooper, Red.” Warren shook his head at me.

  “Shut up or I’ll stab you in the face with my pen.” Warren laughed but the room let out a collective gasp. I held my hands up without looking around. “Yes, that was a threat. If Warren dies by pen to the face, I admit it, it was probably me. And if the murderer is in here right now can you please wait until afterwards to carry out your business. Unless you’re planning on murdering me, in which case I’d very much prefer you didn’t make me sit this exam first. That would be unne
cessarily inhumane.” I glanced over my shoulder. “No takers? Okay then. Do you mind resetting that timer please, Matthew? I may need the full three hours.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Edith took one look at us and shook her head. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  Sabrina and I had stopped by the canteen to get some lunch and brought it with us to meet Edith in the Italian Gardens. I handed Edith one of those chicken pasta salads she seemed to like so much and sat on the grass opposite our usual bench while Sabrina sat next to her.

  “Everyone’s still alive, if that’s what you mean.” I unwrapped my cheese melt panini and took a bite.

  “You don’t seem happy about that, dear.” Edith sipped her coffee and eyed me over the rim of the takeout cup Sabrina had handed her.

  “Let me tell you why.” Sabrina grinned and launched into the tale of idiocy that she had witnessed at the assessment.

  “Oh, dear.” Edith winced as she looked at me. “Did the written exam go well at least?”

  “No.” I lifted my panini to take another bite but Edith motioned with her hand for me to elaborate. “It was riddled with geography questions and maths questions and history questions. I’m sorry, but how does understanding why the Panama Canal is important to the Western world help me adjust to the afterlife?”

  Sabrina choked on her coffee. “That was on there?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did you write, dear?”

  “That without it the world wouldn’t have the panama hat, which is really the only summer fashion accessory you can’t live without.”

  “You know that’s not why, right?” Sabrina asked.

  “First, I’m dead, so I’m pretty dang sure the importance of the Panama Canal is negligible to me. Second, the previous question had asked me to name all of Henry the Eighth’s wives, so I was irritated at that point. Third, if Matthew marks them I’m pretty sure he won’t know the answer either and he doesn’t like me anyway so whatever I wrote I’m pretty sure it will be marked as wrong.”