There Must be a Happy Medium

by Morgana Best

  I closed my eyes, just to rest them, but then woke up as Larry came to a stop outside my house. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I slept the whole way.”

  “Yeah, I had no one to talk to,” Larry said with a laugh. “Let me know if you get any information from Mrs. Cornford, won’t you?”

  I assured him that I would, and he drove off.

  I headed inside to check on Mary, but she was asleep next to the couch, and the cats were asleep on the couch. I was delighted to see that—perhaps they would all get along in time, after all.

  Mary awoke with a start, and then instead of saying hello to me, made a beeline for the dog door and let herself into the walled garden. “Good girl,” I called after her. I was glad that I had managed to install that dog door by myself.

  I went into the kitchen to feed the cats, and they magically appeared, as cats always do at feeding time. I poured dry food into their dishes, and then reached for Mary’s dish. I placed hers at the other end of the kitchen, but just as she appeared, the cats made a big show of hissing and running out of the room. Mary cowed from them. I thought it funny that a dingo was absolutely terrified of cats.

  I found a heartfelt note from Alum next to the coffee pot, telling me how sorry he was that he had fallen asleep, and asking me to call him when I got home. The note concluded, I’ll make it up to you for falling asleep. Please let me take you to the Police Officers’ Ball.

  I did intend to call him, and I did wonder if he would have invited me to the Police Officers’ Ball if he hadn’t fallen asleep, but right now I wanted to speak with Mrs. Cornford. I also had to take Mary for a walk, so I might as well do both at once. I had promised Alum that I wouldn’t go to Mrs. Cornford’s house alone, but I wouldn’t be going alone. I would have a dog with me, a big dog at that. Plus, I didn’t intend to go into Mrs. Cornford’s yard, just stay outside in the laneway.

  “All this exercise will make me fit,” I said to Mary minutes later. She ignored me, as we walked along. Rather, I walked, and she kept darting to the end of the leash. “Mary,” I said, “you’re making our walks entirely unpleasant with this type of behavior.”

  She darted off again by way of response. I thought of all the people I had seen in town, serenely walking their dogs along the streets, both obviously enjoying themselves, whereas I had neck and shoulder pain and had to keep my wits about me with Mary suddenly taking off after anything that looked like prey. Unfortunately, many rabbits lived in the area, and they always seemed to delight in running across the road when I was taking Mary for a walk. If I made her walk beside my leg on a very short leash, she was quite good, but the second I wanted to relax, she would dart away again.

  When we reached Mrs. Cornford’s cottage, I made sure I stayed outside her yard. I approached slowly, looking around for any sign of trouble. There were no cars and I couldn’t see anyone, although I knew that someone would be able to approach on foot behind her cottage and I would never know they were there.

  I sensed Mrs. Cornford’s presence. “Have you remembered anything else?” I asked her.

  She said that she hadn’t.

  “The police told me that the realtor, Robert Wrench, was trying to buy your cottage,” I said.

  I didn’t get any impressions from the spirit, but finally she responded, “Yes.”

  “Did he threaten you?” I asked her.

  “No. He was rude,” she said.

  “Did he mind that you refused to sell it to him?”

  “No, I was going to sign an agreement with him.”

  That got my interest. “What sort of agreement?”

  “He was going to clean my yard, bulldoze all the scrub and put in turf, if I agreed to let his company cut the grass on a regular basis. I had to agree to have the outside of the house painted a neutral color and pay that cost myself.”

  I wasn’t sure if I had received those impressions correctly. If I had, then that meant that Robert Wrench didn’t care whether or not he bought the house—he simply didn’t want it to be an eyesore. And the fact that Mrs. Cornford had agreed, meant that he wouldn’t have a motive for murder. Still, I pressed on with my questions. “Are you sure he wasn’t the one who murdered you?” I asked her.

  “I don’t know who it was. I can’t remember.”

  I tried a different line of questioning. “Sally Symons told me that you always used Royal Doulton china when she visited you,” I said. “What visitors didn’t you use that china for?”

  That appeared to confuse her. Suddenly, without warning, she was gone.

  I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Come on, Mary. We’d better be getting home before Alum finds out I was near this place.” I had an uneasy feeling I was being watched, and wondered if an unseen person’s arrival was the cause of Mrs. Cornford’s hasty departure. Or was it the mention of Sally? Surely Sally couldn’t be the killer?

  All the hair stood up on the back of my neck, and I hurried back down the road with Mary.

  Chapter 17

  I hadn’t gone far, when I sensed the spirit again. I told Mary to sit, and waited for Mrs. Cornford to communicate with me.

  “I’ve remembered something important,” she said.

  I cast a glance behind me, but her cottage was out of sight, around the corner, so if there was anyone there, they wouldn’t be able to see me. Also, I had a dog with me and figured that fact would frighten away would-be attackers. “What is it?” I asked her. “Do you remember who murdered you?”

  “I remember an emerald bracelet,” she said.

  I wasn’t sure if I had picked up the image clearly, but it did seem definite. While I was still thinking it over, she spoke again. “I was murdered because of the bracelet.”

  “You were murdered because of the bracelet?” I repeated, somewhat confused.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it a valuable bracelet? Did someone try to steal it from you?”

  “No one tried to steal it from me.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. This was awfully puzzling. First the ghost said she was murdered because of the renovations, and then said it was because of the bracelet.

  “I found it in the chimney. I was cleaning the chimney so the builders could replace the front of it.”

  I still had no idea what the bracelet had to do with her murder. “Was it very valuable? Did the murderer steal it?”

  “It’s in the chimney,” she said again.

  This was getting me nowhere. “Was it valuable? Was it a family heirloom?”

  The spirit started to fade.

  “Please, wait!” I said urgently. “Can you describe it to me?”

  This time, I didn’t so much as sense the words, but saw the image of a bracelet. I hurried home so I could draw it.

  Within half an hour, I was sitting with several sheets of computer paper in front of me. I did my best to draw the image I had seen in my mind’s eye. Although I had seen the image clearly, it was hard to put it on paper, much to my frustration. I scribbled notes as to what it looked like.

  Still, I had no idea what the bracelet had to do with the woman’s murder.

  I fetched my laptop, sat on the couch, and googled images of emerald bracelets. Five minutes later, I still hadn’t seen a bracelet like it. It looked vintage to me, or even antique, perhaps late Victorian.

  The bracelet featured five flowers in a metal that looked like silver. It might have been platinum, but it certainly wasn’t gold, at least not yellow gold. Each of the five flowers had a large green stone which I assumed was an emerald in the center, cabochon set. The rest of the bracelet was comprised of large links with a clasp at the end.

  I was startled by a knock at the door. I had been so deep in thought that I had not even heard a car.

  “Since when do you lock your door when you’re home?” Constance said by way of greeting.

  “Since Mrs. Cornford who lived just down the road was murdered,” I said.

  Constance pushed past me and looked at my laptop and the drawing
next to it. “What are you doing?”

  I sighed. “If I tell you, you can’t tell a single soul. You have to give me your solemn word that you’ll keep this to yourself. I’m serious, Constance, this is police business. It would be awfully dangerous if this got out.”

  “Well, you don’t have to make a big song and dance about it,” Constance said haughtily. “I only have to be told once. I’m the soul of discretion.”

  I shook my head. I wouldn’t have told her a thing, only she had already seen the drawing as well as a printed image of the most similar bracelet I could find on the net.

  “What’s all this about?” she asked me.

  “I just took Mary for a walk. I spoke with Mrs. Cornford’s spirit, and she told me her death was something to do with this bracelet.”

  Constance looked puzzled. “Did somebody steal it?”

  I shook my head. “No, that’s just it. She didn’t seem to think they did. She’s not coming through very well and she’s not making any sense.”

  Constance took a seat on the couch. “Do you think she’s got it all wrong? Maybe she saw a bracelet like this when she was a child, or perhaps she owned one like it when she was a young woman.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure the bracelet does mean something, but she hasn’t put the pieces together yet. I’m sure she will in time. I’ve emailed my sketches and the photo to Larry, err, Detective Brown. I’m sure he’ll let me know if he finds anything.”

  Constance nodded. “Oh well, it’s wine o’clock. Prudence, be a dear and fetch me a bottle of wine. Not one of those cheap wines you drink, mind you.”

  What did your last servant die of? I thought, as I left the room in search of a good bottle of wine. When I returned, Constance was sitting primly on the couch. “So where were you today? I called around, but you didn’t answer the door, and your car was here.” Her tone was demanding.

  I suppressed a smile, imagining Constance nearly banging my door down and screeching out for me, no doubt thinking I was inside and deliberately not answering the door. “I was out doing my new job, working as a consultant for the police.”

  Constance’s mouth formed an O shape. “If you ever go on TV, please mention me.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was serious. Knowing Constance, she probably was.

  “Can I be your assistant?” she continued. “I know you can’t afford to pay me, but I’d still like to be your assistant.”

  I shuddered at the thought. “It isn’t the type of job that needs an assistant,” I said, hoping I didn’t offend her.

  Constance pursed her mouth and looked daggers at me. “You know, you should employ my maid, Sally. If your cats are going to continue avoiding their litter tray, you’ll need someone like her. And it’s not as if you can’t afford it now. You could probably afford her now and then. Of course, I get her five times a week.”

  She droned on, but I only heard one thing. “Sally? Sally Symons is your maid?”

  “Yes, you know that.”

  Actually, I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to get into a disagreement. “Is she good?” I asked her. “What do you know about her?” Has she shown any violent tendencies, I wanted to ask, but of course, I couldn’t.

  Constance spoke at length of Sally’s attention to detail, her clothes folding skills, her dusting capabilities, her competence with the vacuum. Finally, and with some difficulty, I managed to get a word in. “You know that Sally and I found Mrs. Cornford’s body.”

  “Oh yes,” Constance said. “She told me all about it.”

  “Yes, she was very upset about Mrs. Cornford. Did the two of them get on well?”

  Constance folded her hands in her lap. “They did. Mrs. Cornford always paid her on time, but Sally told me—and this is confidential, mind you—that Mrs. Cornford didn’t pay most people on time, if at all. She was always telling Sally to throw bills in the trash.”

  I nodded. “I don’t suppose Sally has any idea as to who killed Mrs. Cornford?”

  Constance shook her head. “No. We were trying to figure it out. If we do, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Thanks,” I said dryly. I had no intention of paying Sally, or any maid for that matter. I couldn’t afford such luxuries. And I sure wasn’t going to have her in my house or drink any tea she offered me.

  Chapter 18

  As soon as Constance left, I decided to investigate the realtor, Robert Wrench. It was almost five, so I called the Council to make an appointment with the Town Planner.

  “What do you want to speak to her about?” the voice asked me.

  I was tempted to say, “Town Planning,” but instead thought fast and came up with, “I’m interested in buying a plot of land in the new subdivision at the Timberford area in town. I just wanted to check on the legalities.”

  “Can’t your lawyer do that?” the voice asked.

  “Sure, but she’s out of town for the month,” I said. “I wanted to make an offer fast so there are a few things I wanted to check first.”

  There was silence for a moment, and then the voice said, “Can you come right now? Sabrina Collins only has appointments until four, but she’s still here and I’m sure she won’t mind a few quick questions.”

  I thanked her and drove to the Council building as fast as I could. It only took me five minutes. It was an attractive building on the outside, but gloomy and dismal once through the front doors.

  The receptionist took my name and asked me to wait, but I was introduced to Sabrina Collins, the Town Planner, only moments later. She escorted me down a twisting, musty corridor and then into a roomy, but dreary office and bid me sit on a small wooden chair. Sabrina clasped her hands. “What can I do for you? You have a question about the Timberford subdivision?”

  I nodded. “Thanks so much for seeing me at such short notice.” This was one of the perks of living in a small country town. She smiled, so I continued. “I was considering buying one of those plots of land, but that old house of Mrs. Cornford’s is just so ugly, to be blunt. It’s horribly overgrown. I don’t want to build a nice new house in the vicinity of such a ramshackle eyesore.”

  I hoped Sabrina would speak and offer some information at this point, but she remained silent, so I pushed on. “The realtor told me that the house wouldn’t be a problem, but I don’t know what he means by that.” I paused, struggling to find a question. “I suppose he means that the house will be demolished, so what I want to know is, can the house legally be demolished? Because if it can, then I’d be interested in buying land there, but if not, then I won’t be.” My head spun. I hope what I’d said made some sort of sense to Sabrina Collins, because it sure didn’t make much sense to me.

  Sabrina tapped at her computer keyboard for some time before speaking, and then swung the screen around to face me. “This is the Cornford house,” she said, drumming her finger on the screen. “And those are the plots which will soon be available for sale. I can’t see any problem if the house were to be demolished, but I wouldn’t count on it, if I were you. And then there’s the storm water drain.”

  I frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “The storm water drain,” she said, growing visibly excited. “It empties into this plot, see?”

  I nodded.

  “Council built that drain years ago. These days, Council would not be able to build a drain that flows into someone’s land, but it happened decades ago. Council can hardly go around fixing all their old mistakes, these days!” She laughed. “There’s nothing in Council regulations to say that a residence can’t be built on that plot, but you’ll just have to be aware of flooding.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I pointed to the plot next to Mrs. Cornford’s house. “I’m interested in this plot. That’s why I’m so interested in whether or not the Cornford house will be demolished. The realtor, Robert Wrench, told me that it would all be taken care of, but, to be honest, I don’t trust him, so I wanted to ask you if Council knew anything about it.” I sighed. “I’m sorry to take up your time, but I d
on’t know exactly what I am asking. I just don’t trust Robert Wrench,” I concluded, fervently hoping he wasn’t her cousin. That was usually the case in small country towns—everyone was related. “Are you from around here?” I asked as an afterthought.

  She shook her head. “I’m from Ballina. I’ve only just moved to town.”

  I was relieved, but I was beginning to think this was all a big waste of time, when she added, “I moved here because my parents have lived here for years. They know Robert Wrench. I would have your lawyer look carefully through all documents before you consider buying anything from him,” she said pointedly.

  I thanked her.

  “And now let’s look at the sewer plans for those plots,” she said in an animated fashion.

  It was the most boring five minutes of my life. Mercifully, Sabrina finally stopped talking, after handing me a stack of print-outs of sewer plans. I stood and we shook hands. She gave me her card. “If you have any more queries about Robert Wrench’s subdivision, just give me a call.”

  I thanked her and walked out of her office, straight into the man himself. I had not formally met Robert, but I did know him by sight. After all, the town only had a population of around five thousand people. How much had he heard? He was hovering outside the door. It seemed to me he was listening in, but then another man appeared and handed him some sheets of paper. I didn’t stick around—I left as fast as I could. I could feel Robert’s eyes boring into my back.

  I threw the numerous print-outs of sewer plans in my car, not daring to throw them in the big trash can at the front of the building in case Sabrina saw me.

  I decided to go to the local grocery store to buy some more dog treats. Half way there, I saw Sally Symons sitting at a table in the courtyard outside the worst café in town. I walked over to her. “Hi, Sally.”

  She looked surprised to see me. “Hello, Prudence. What are you doing here?”

  “Mind if I join you? I need some coffee, and then I’ll tell you all about it.”

  She agreed. I would make sure I didn’t leave my coffee unattended. No doubt she had several bottles of eye drops in her purse.