Arrivals and Arrests

by Diana Xarissa

  “Any idea who killed him?” Shelly asked the others.

  “None whatsoever,” Peter said. “I did think Mark was a likely suspect, as he and Alan weren’t getting along very well lately. I also wondered about Suzy, but I can’t imagine why she’d have killed Mark as well. But I really can’t believe that we have two murderers running around Douglas at the moment.”

  “I think it was Kara,” Shelly said.

  “Why?” Peter and Fenella both asked at once.

  “Because I don’t like her,” Shelly said with a shrug. “She’s a terrible secretary, that’s for sure. I hated having to talk to her whenever I called the office, but Alan wouldn’t give out his mobile number to clients. All calls had to go through the office, and in the last month or so that meant through Kara.”

  “I’m not sure that being a bad secretary is much of a motive for murder,” Fenella ventured.

  “Maybe Alan realized she was awful and fired her, and she killed him in retaliation,” Shelly suggested.

  “And then she killed Mark because he knew?” Peter asked.

  “Sure, that’s possible,” Shelly said.

  “But maybe unlikely,” Fenella replied.

  “Maybe,” Shelly shrugged again. “So maybe it was Suzy. She and Alan had a very volatile relationship. Maybe she got tired of him always cheating on her and stuck a knife in him.”

  “Why would she kill Mark, then?” Peter asked.

  “Maybe he suspected her and tried to blackmail her,” Shelly replied.

  “Or maybe Mark killed Alan and then someone killed Mark for revenge,” Peter offered. “I can see poor Mandy doing that if she found out, for example.”

  “What about Bethany from the vet’s office?” Shelly asked. “She must know some basic anatomy, right? Stabbing someone in just the right place must be tricky.”

  “I’m not sure that knowing about cats and dogs helps much with humans,” Fenella said. “Besides, she’s the receptionist. She might not know more about animals than I do, which is next to nothing, except that my Katie is probably getting hungry right about now.”

  “I suppose we should be glad this is Inspector Robinson’s problem and not ours,” Shelly said as they finished their drinks and got to their feet.

  “I am, for sure,” Fenella said. “Although I’ll sleep better at night once he’s solved both murders.”

  “We all will,” Shelly told her. “Murders never happen on the Isle of Man, well, aside from that spate of trouble in the late nineties in Laxey.”

  “What happened?” Fenella asked.

  “I can only describe it as a strange cluster of murders and mayhem,” Shelly replied. “It was just a series of unusual and unconnected events, really, but it wreaked havoc with the island’s murder rate for a few years before it all just stopped and everything went back to normal.”

  On that somber note, the trio made their way back to the apartment complex. Fenella let herself in and looked around for Katie.

  “I’m back,” she called. A moment later Katie walked out of the bedroom and greeted Fenella.

  “MMMMeeerooow,” she said.

  “And merow to you, too,” Fenella replied. She slipped off her shoes and padded into the kitchen to refill the kitten’s bowls. With that chore done, she couldn’t wait to get out of her dress and tights and into something comfortable.

  “So, how was the gathering?” Mona asked when Fenella, in jeans and a sweatshirt, was digging around in the refrigerator, looking for something to make for dinner.

  “It was interesting, I guess,” Fenella told her.

  “Go on, then, tell me everything,” Mona insisted.

  Fenella made herself an omelet with bacon and cheese while she told Mona everything that had happened at the community center and at the pub afterwards. When she was done talking, the omelet was ready.

  “Interesting,” Mona said as she sat down at the kitchen table with Fenella. “Shelly thinks the killer was a woman.”

  “Shelly is prepared to consider anyone and everyone,” Fenella replied.

  “I think Shelly is right. I think we need to focus on the women who were scorned.”

  “Scorned by Alan Collins or scorned by Mark Potter?” Fenella asked.

  “That’s a good point,” Mona said thoughtfully. “Maybe we’re going about this backwards. Maybe Mr. Potter was the primary target, rather than Mr. Collins. What do we know about the man’s wife?”

  “Nothing whatsoever. I didn’t even know he was married.”

  “That much was in the local paper,” Mona told her. “You really must start making an effort to get the local paper.”

  “Yes, I know,” Fenella replied, rolling her eyes. “I don’t suppose the paper gave the woman’s name?”

  “Of course it did. That’s a matter of public record, if nothing else. I simply can’t remember it right now.”

  The telephone interrupted their conversation.

  “Hello?”

  “Ah, you are home,” Jack’s voice came down the line. “I was just sitting here, missing you, so I thought I would call.”

  “Jack, we aren’t a couple anymore. You should probably stop calling,” Fenella said. She looked over at Mona, who shook her head.

  “But you’re the only person who really understands me,” Jack said. “I had lunch with Sue and Hazel today. You remember them, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course,” Fenella said through gritted teeth. Sue and Hazel were both professors at the university where Fenella used to work. They’d both always been very friendly to Jack and quite cool to Fenella, but Fenella had never cared.

  “We had a really nice meal and I was telling them both how much I miss you, and they both got quite grumpy, really. Hazel actually suggested that I could do much better than you.”

  “I’m sure she did,” Fenella replied. “Did she suggest herself as a suitable alternative?”

  “Hazel? Why, of course not,” Jack said. “I mean, she’s hardly my type.”

  Fenella sighed deeply. “Neither Sue nor Hazel ever liked me,” she said. “I’m sure they’re both thrilled that I’ve gone. And I suspect they’d both like to take my place in your affections.”

  “Really?” Jack asked in a surprised tone. “I never considered either of them as anything other than work colleagues. I shall have to give the matter some thought.”

  “Just be careful,” Fenella couldn’t stop herself from warning the man. “If you start dating one of them, the other will be hurt.”

  “Goodness, I hadn’t thought of that,” Jack said. “Are you sure you can’t just come back? It would make my life so much easier.”

  “Sorry, but no,” Fenella said. I have to believe there is more to my life than making your life easier, she added to herself.

  She’d only just hung up the phone when someone knocked on her door.

  “I’m popular tonight,” she told Mona and Katie.

  “Ah, yes, you’re Fenella Woods, aren’t you?” the woman at the door asked.

  Fenella nodded as she tried to remember where she’d seen the woman before. Her guest looked no more than forty. She was dressed in a plain black dress that did nothing for her and her brown hair was pulled up into a tight bun. Her makeup had been expertly applied, but it couldn’t quite hide the dark circles under her eyes.

  “I’m Abigail Potter. I don’t want to invite myself in, but I’d rather not talk in the corridor, either,” the woman said.

  “Do come in,” Fenella said quickly. “I only just finished my dinner. Would you like some tea or coffee?”

  The woman shook her head. “I won’t stay long,” she said. “I just had to meet you.”

  “Why?” Fenella blurted out.

  Abigail shrugged. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Someone pointed you out to me at the, um, service today as the woman who found Mark’s body. I just felt as if I had to talk to you.”

  “I see,” Fenella replied, even though she really didn’t. “Come and sit down,” she invited her
guest.

  Abigail followed Fenella into the living room and dropped into the first chair she came to. She stared out the window for a moment and then sighed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m completely lost. I feel like I’m just going through the motions of life without actually being anywhere.”

  “Let me make you some tea,” Fenella said, hoping it really was the cure-all everyone seemed to think it was.

  “No, thank you anyway,” the woman said. “Please, sit down and tell me about Mark.”

  Fenella sat on the couch next to her guest and smiled tentatively. “I’m not sure what I can tell you,” she said. “He called and asked me to come to his office to see him. When I got there, he was dead.”

  Abigail nodded. “We met in primary school,” she told Fenella. “I was four years old and I wanted to be a nurse when I grew up. My mum was a nurse. Anyway, Mark wanted to be a doctor and I thought that meant that he was just right for me. I asked him to marry me on his fifth birthday and he said ‘yes.’”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Fenella murmured, wishing at least she had a cup of tea.

  “As far as I was concerned, that was it,” the woman continued. “I never looked at another man. Oh, Mark and I broke up now and again, but never for long. We stopped speaking once for three weeks when we were in year six, but even then I knew we were going to be together forever. Mark was less certain, especially when we got older and he started to really notice girls.”

  “How difficult for you,” Fenella muttered.

  “Oh, it was,” she agreed. “He would break up with me and go out with someone else for a few days and then call and beg me to take him back. The first few times it happened, I forgave him, but eventually I told him he’d run out of chances. He promised me he’d never look at another woman again.”

  “My goodness, she was naïve,” Mona said from across the room.

  Fenella coughed to hide the laugh that Mona’s remark triggered.

  “We got married as soon as we finished school,” Abigail said. “I’d given up on the idea of being a nurse when I’d failed my science exams and Mark decided that he’d rather get out and start working, rather than spend years studying to be a doctor. So we set up house in a small flat and he went into business with Alan Collins.”

  “Selling real estate?” Fenella asked.

  “Among other things,” Abigail replied. “They had diverse interests, although the estate agency was their primary concern.”

  “I understand they were quite successful,” Fenella said.

  “They did well,” Abigail agreed. “I worked for them for a few years. I was going to stop when Mark and I decided to try for children, but, well, in the end I simply couldn’t work with Alan any longer.”

  “Oh?”

  “I didn’t approve of his lifestyle,” she explained. “We used to go out for a meal with him once a week or so and he nearly always had a different woman on his arm. He could be incredibly charming and women seemed to fall for his slightly helpless demeanor, but I never found him anything but irritating.”

  “I see.”

  “Anyway, when I started asking him about previous girlfriends in front of his new ones, we stopped having dinner with him so regularly and I found myself a different job.”

  Fenella smiled. “Very sensible, I’m sure,” she said.

  “Unfortunately, Mark kept working with him. I worried about Alan’s behavior influencing Mark, but he wouldn’t listen to me. When I found out he was cheating on me, I was devastated.”

  “I am sorry,” Fenella said. She looked around for the nearest box of tissues, but her guest remained dry-eyed.

  “A few months ago, I decided that I’d had enough and I left Mark,” Abigail continued. “We hadn’t even spoken in the three or four weeks before Alan died. When Mark found out about Alan, he rang me straight away, though. He wanted to see me, to apologize, to start over again.”

  “Of course he did,” Mona said. “Because he was afraid you’d killed Alan Collins.”

  Fenella looked at her aunt and shook her head. “That must have been difficult,” she muttered to Abigail.

  “I told him I’d give him one last chance,” Abigail told her. “I was supposed to meet him after work that night for dinner. The day he died, I mean. We were going to have dinner together and talk. He told me on the phone that Alan’s death had been a wake-up call and that he realized how much he loved me and needed me.”

  “Maybe he wanted to use her for an alibi?” Mona suggested.

  “When the police came and told me that he’d been killed, I didn’t believe them,” Abigail continued. “I thought it was a joke or something. Mark couldn’t be dead, not now.”

  “I am sorry for your loss,” Fenella repeated herself.

  “Are you sure he was dead when you got there?” the woman asked. “He didn’t say anything to you?”

  “He was definitely dead,” Fenella said, shuddering at the memory.

  “He used to have a photograph of me on his desk,” Abigail said. “It was a picture of me on our wedding day. Please tell me that it was on his desk that day. I know he put it away when I moved out, but I’ll feel so much better if I knew that he’d put it back out when we started talking about reconciling.”

  Fenella did her best to remember the crime scene, but all she could visualize was the man in the chair, covered in blood. She shook her head to get rid of the image and then looked at Abigail.

  “I’m sorry, I simply didn’t notice anything other than, well, than the body,” she said. “I’m sure there were things on the desk, but even if one of them had been a giant purple elephant, I don’t think I would have noticed.”

  Abigail took a deep breath and then sighed. “Who could have killed him?” she demanded. “Did you see anyone leaving the building?”

  “No,” Fenella said firmly. “I’ve been through this with the police several times. I didn’t see anyone at all.”

  “I used to think about killing Alan,” Abigail said. “I knew he was a bad influence on Mark. I knew all the pretty girls that Alan had coming through the office all the time tempted Mark. I never thought Mark would get murdered, though.”

  “You don’t have any idea who killed him?” Fenella asked.

  Abigail shook her head. “I keep thinking maybe it was random. Like maybe someone came into the office looking to steal something and found Mark instead. I can’t imagine why anyone would kill him on purpose. He was just an ordinary man, doing his job.”

  “I understand Mr. Collins had had some trouble with the police,” Fenella said cautiously.

  “Yes, Alan liked to make money and he had no morals or scruples about how he accomplished that. Mark was nearly arrested a couple of times himself. It wasn’t easy for Mark to prove that he knew nothing about Alan’s illegal schemes, but he managed it.”

  “Could the killer have been someone that the pair did business with who wasn’t happy?”

  “I suppose so,” Abigail said. “But I prefer to think that Alan was killed by one of his women. It seems more just, somehow.”

  “Were you still at the, um, service yesterday when Mandy, Suzy and Kara started fighting?” Fenella asked.

  “Oh, yes, wasn’t that fun?” Abigail laughed. “Poor Bethany got dragged in as well, which was almost sad, because she really fell for Alan, even though I warned her about him.”

  “She seems like a nice person,” Fenella offered.

  “She’s very sweet, and in spite of her age, knows nothing about men,” Abigail said. “She believed everything Alan told her, even though she knew about his past.”

  “So who was he actually dating when he died?” Fenella asked.

  Abigail shrugged. “I suspect he was the only one who knew the answer to that,” she said. “I used to have a drink with Mandy now and then and she did tell me that they were getting back together, but I didn’t believe it. I never understood why Alan married her in the first place. He wasn’t the type.”
r />   “Everyone in the building keeps telling me that he and Suzy were still together,” Fenella said.

  “They might have been. Suzy was only using him for her own ends, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She was getting him to list the flats in the building at a huge discount,” Abigail explained. “Mark was furious, because Alan cut the agency’s commission down to next to nothing, but it did mean that they got every listing for every flat in the building the minute it became available.”

  “And Suzy was making money from that?”

  “Oh, yeah, a lot of money. The sellers were still being charged the full commission, but most of it was going in Suzy’s pocket. As far as I know, there wasn’t anything illegal about what they were doing, by the way. But that’s why Suzy stuck around and kept taking Alan back after every fight.”

  “So he was talking about taking Mandy back, he was involved with Suzy and he was dating Bethany?”

  “Yeah. He had Bethany all worked out. She used to cook for him and clean his house for him. She thought he was going to marry her after his divorce from Mandy came through. Once that happened, though, he kept finding excuses not to. He treated her quite appallingly.”

  “Badly enough that she might have murdered him?”

  “She doesn’t have the nerve,” Abigail said, waving a hand. “Mark and I were having dinner with Alan and Suzy one night when Bethany walked into the same restaurant. She saw Alan and rushed over, only to find Suzy practically sitting on his lap. I would have started shouting at him and caused a big scene, but she simply walked away and went home.”

  “What about Kara?” Fenella asked.

  “She was pretty new,” Abigail told her. “I really don’t know much about her. She was hired after I left Mark to replace yet another of Alan’s former conquests.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Oh, she moved across to Liverpool or something like that,” Abigail said. “Alan broke her heart, but she was smart enough and tough enough to just take herself elsewhere. Alan wrote her a glowing letter of recommendation at least, so she found a better job over there than what she had here.”

  “So who do you think killed your husband?” Fenella asked bluntly.