Murder in the Village: A Lady Margaret Turnbull Cozy Mystery Book (International Cozy Mysteries 2)

by C T Mitchell

  Before long they pulled up to the pier on the banks of the Condamine River where the body had been discovered. There were a handful of officers walking around and some police tape being strewn about in places that didn’t make any sense to Maggie. She loved the excitement of the scene and started to get out of the car.

  “Huh uh. You stay here.” Tom pointed his finger to the seat like he was instructing a toddler. “I’ll come get you when I need you. It’s dangerous down there and you’re in proper shoes. No sense in dirtying them up if you don’t have to.”

  Reluctantly, Maggie agreed, but not without a significant amount of scoffing. Five minutes later, though, as Tom was getting his bearings on the scene, he saw Maggie traipsing down the embankment toward where he was standing. There really was no telling that woman what to do. He should have diverted her by saying she had to come down. Then she would have stayed put.

  “Lady Margaret, seriously! You’re going to break your ankle! Didn’t I tell you to stay in the car?” He trotted out from under the pier and up to give her a hand. She accepted, as any lady would do, and didn’t say a word until they were settled underneath the pier again. She motioned for Tom to get back to whatever conversation he’d been having, and after rolling his eyes a few more times, he did just that. She undoubtedly just didn’t want to miss any details, and Tom couldn’t fault her for that.

  When he was done talking, Maggie turned to him.

  “I noticed something in the mud up there on the hill.” She pointed to where she had walked from. “I didn’t want to disturb it because I knew the forensics team would want to get a picture of it in situ, but it’s worth looking at.” Tom was always impressed when she used proper police terms, but he always immediately pictured her reading Nancy Drew novels late at night.

  “Show me,” he said.

  The two of them climbed back up the hill some ways and Maggie pointed to the ground. “I believe that’s a ring box, Detective Sullivan.”

  “Stay right here.” He started back down the hill and stopped mid-stride, turning back to her and reaching his hand out in kindness. “Please.”

  Moments later, he came back with a forensics photographer, and when they gotten what they needed, he slipped on a latex glove and pulled the box from the mud. Turning it a few times in his hands, he didn’t say a word, and then dropped it into a clean evidence bag. On the outside of the box was the name Lismore Family Jewels.

  Chapter 5

  The Detective and his team confirmed that Pete Evans, one of the names on the slip of paper that Maggie managed to rustle up, had purchased the ring on the severed finger. Once they reached his house, Evans told Tom that he purchased the ring at the jewelry store in town.

  Apparently, and Tom wasn’t even the slightest bit convinced of his story due to the trademark shift eyes of the person telling it, he’d asked Alison Clay to marry him on the river bank where they had found the box. The two of them walked back to the restaurant on the promenade where they then had a lovely dinner to celebrate their new engagement.

  They drove home separately, and since it was a week day on the evening he proposed, Pete assumed Alison had driven back to her parent’s house. That was, as he claimed, the last time he saw her. The next day, Alison’s mother listed her as a missing person.

  In Tom’s mind, there were too many unanswered questions in the case. Maggie wondered why sending the package to the Detective personally was something the perpetrator chose to do, it seemed a bit bold. And why did the attacker use his aunt’s address? Maggie suggested to Tom that it could have been done on accident, or possibly to derail the investigation. It was, she thought, a strange thing to do for a serial killer, though.

  The following day, Tom phoned Lady Margaret to inform her that there was a second body with the same description.

  “Have you received a shoe box for this one, too?” Maggie asked.

  “No, I sure haven’t. Not that I’ve seen, anyway. Maybe it was a fluke?”

  “I doubt it. Strange things are rarely a fluke. Hold on a moment, please.” Maggie walked to the door where the postman had just come in. She’d seen him there, in the foyer of her bed and breakfast, a thousand times.

  Today, though, the sight of him stopped her in her tracks. He was holding a shoebox and the clipboard he normally carried when she was required to sign things. The only person that had her address that would have anything to do with the case, other than the Detective himself, was the owner of the Lismore Family Jewelry Store. “Send a car to Lawlers Loft. Immediately. I’ll call you back.”

  She knew that within ten minutes there would be a car at her door, so she sat tight with the box and readied herself for whatever was to happen next. A fresh coat of lipstick and a pair of earrings later and she opened the door for the officer. The young man, whose name Maggie could never remember because he was a very forgettable face, sat quietly with her and sipped his tea like a timid gentleman in training until Detective Sullivan arrived.

  “Okay, Lady Margaret. A lot has happened in the time since you had me send the car. Branson, you’re excused. Thanks so much.”

  The young man thanked Maggie for the tea and set his cup and saucer in the sink before leaving as quietly as he’d come in.

  “This guy is killing these girls because he was refused; at least that’s my theory. His own proposal to his girlfriend was refused, and the profiler and I truly believe he’s acting out on other people because of it. It’s pretty basic, but you get the drift.

  Anyhow, he bought the three rings at the jewelry store in the mall, and when I swung by to question the manager you spoke to, he wasn’t around. The other workers mentioned that he’d gone on an unscheduled vacation.”

  “Mmmm…do go on.”

  “Yeah, my thoughts, exactly. Should’ve called in sick, because you can’t get much more suspicious than that! I’ve got his name and address. Want to ride along?”

  Maggie nearly jumped from her seat. “Do I!”

  At the apartment complex, the landlord informed the two of them that Mr. Bruce Diamond had not gone on vacation as far as he could make out…he’d left altogether. Mr. Diamond had moved out three days ago.

  “He was never a problem,” the landlord said. “He even paid the last month’s rent. He mentioned that his girlfriend had taken a job out of town and he wanted to follow her. Seemed a good enough excuse as any, I’d say?”

  “No way is she moving for a job. That woman’s been abducted,” Maggie whispered to Tom as they walked down the hall. “I’d wager these three killings are a warning to her that she’d best accept his proposal…or else! He’s probably obsessed with her and can’t stand to see any other woman with a similar ring on their finger.”

  Tom scoffed. “That seems a bit far-fetched even for you, Lady Margaret.”

  Maggie raised an eyebrow as they walked. “Does it?? Then give me another explanation that better describes a crazy person.”

  “Nah....you’re probably right as usual. It’ll be faster if I just admit that out loud. If you’re right—“

  “Don’t tease me, Detective. You know I’m right.”

  “—then he won’t stop until he’s killed his girlfriend. We’ve got to find her before that happens.”

  Chapter 6

  “Perfect! You did perfectly, thank you so much.” Tom slammed the phone down and jumped from his chair, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. He quickly dialed Maggie’s number with his free hand.

  “Lady Margaret! The clerk at the Byron Bay Jewelry Store just phoned to say that Mr. Diamond ordered a ring. He told him yesterday to come back today to pick it up. And he’s phoned us this morning. Sergeant Daniels and I are on the way to apprehend him. Daniels is going to pose as a clerk and I’ll be waiting outside when he shows up.”

  “His girlfriend is probably being held somewhere in town, Detective. Did you ever get any information on her?”

  “I sure didn’t, but I’m hopeful we’ll get it out of him. That’s why Daniel’s is po
sing as the clerk, he’ll try to get her name and address before we grab him. He’s wearing a wire so I can hear the address when he does, I’ll send a team out immediately after.”

  An hour later, Daniels is in place, and Diamond walks into the shop. The other clerks were on lunch, and Diamond strolled right up to the counter, where the Sergeant did his job exactly as he was trained. He asked for the name and address of the girlfriend for insurance purposes, which is something that Bruce Diamond knew to expect as common practice. In this case, however, Diamond actually refused to give the information.

  “I’m the one buying the ring and I’ll use my information for it. I value our privacy.” Diamond told him. “If she refuses the ring, it will still be paid for, and I’ll keep it as a keepsake.”

  Daniels did not argue, as he knew that would only raise Diamond’s suspicion. Detective Sullivan, however, heard the whole conversation in his earpiece and simply waited for Diamond to come out. When he left, Tom would simply follow him, convinced he’d lead him to the girl.

  While he was waiting, however, he received a call from the Lismore Police Station. The desk sergeant reported a woman had called in a reported that her daughter didn’t come home last night. She was worried, and the daughter’s name was Libby Carter. Her boyfriend’s name was Bruce Diamond. The hairs on the back of Tom’s neck stood up, he thanked the sergeant and gripped the steering wheel.

  As soon as Bruce exited the store and pulled into traffic, Tom followed him at a safe distance. They were headed to the downtown area as best as he could tell. Something about the direction they were headed didn’t feel right, and sent goose bumps down his arms. The central business district was busy, even for a popular seaside tourist town and he didn’t want to lose the guy in traffic. He called in to have a few unmarked cars dispatched to assist in an eventual chase, just in case.

  A full half hour later, Diamond dropped down into a car park below the popular Byron Bay Hotel in the Byron Bay CBD. Tom followed and watched him exit the vehicle, and he received word that a Byron Bay police constable was on site near the car park elevator. Carefully, the officer followed Bruce Diamond to his room and radioed Tom the location: Room 651 on the sixth floor.

  A few minutes later, Tom and the Hotel security officer met the constable outside the room. He listened for any noise, and when he heard a faint string of muffled sounds followed by a very audible scream, he used the security officer’s master key to open the door.

  As the three men burst in, they saw the young woman being held over the balcony railing by Bruce, who was holding her left ring finger in front of her face. Libby Carter fainted just as Tom reached her, luckily he grabbed her arm firmly enough that he could swing her back toward him and she collapsed into his chest. The Byron Bay police constable slammed handcuffs onto Diamond and forced him to the ground.

  Since her finger was severed shortly before she was rushed to the hospital, Libby’s finger was able to be reattached.

  That evening, after a long day of filling out paperwork and then filling Maggie in on the details, Detective Sullivan left to stay the night at his Aunt’s house in Byron Bay.

  In the morning, they would go shopping together for a special book for Lady Margaret’s birthday. It would be a tall order, Tom thought, because it would have to top the early birthday gift of her being able to help on another case. And he knew it would be hard to top that.

  About The Author

  C T Mitchell was born in Cairns but now lives in Brisbane Australia. He trained as an accountant and put his knowledge firstly into being a share broker during the mining boom of the roaring 1980’s before venturing off to the grey side of real estate sales. For a brief four year stretch he slipped into the dark side of car sales before seeing the light and returning to real estate and finance.

  He writes the Cabarita Crimes series books featuring Australian Detective Jack Creed – a detective from the school of hard knocks where protocol is not a priority in his ‘get the crime solved at any cost’ demeanor. The first short story in the series, REJECTION, sees Jack Creed up against a sick, demented Nicholas Weatherby who plans to carry out Australia’s first mass University shooting. Rejection, like other novellas in the series, have been best sellers in their categories on Amazon, particularly in the US, UK and Australia. “Murder on the Beach” – #1 Amazon UK #1 Amazon US.

  The Lady Margaret Turnbull Cozy Mysteries is another series featuring the amateur sleuth Lady Margaret Turnbull whose uncanny knack of solving crimes is the envy of the local police Detective Tom Sullivan.

  C T lives with his wife and four nearby adult children; splitting their time between Brisbane and Cabarita Beach, NSW, Australia.

  Find out about C T’s latest books and how you can get them at low prices by joining his newsletter at:

  http://www.CTMitchell.com

  And don’t forget to connect on:

  http://www.twitter.com/ctmitchellbooks

  http://www.facebook.com/ctmitchellauthor

  More Books by C T Mitchell

  Detective Jack Creed

  Rejection

  Shattered

  The Secret of Barnesdale Manor

  Murder on the Beach

  Detective Jack Creed Box Set

  High Stakes

  Lady Margaret Turnbull Cozy Mysteries

  Murder at the Fete

  Excerpt from Murder at the Fete

  It was nearly lunchtime when the winner of the sponge cake was declared, and it was well-deserved. Mrs. Davies would take home first prize and the five hundred dollars and, much to the dismay of Mrs. Grant and Maggie, Mrs. Neddles took the honor of best scones. Apparently they were “smoother to the palate” than Mrs. Grant’s, which Maggie highly disagreed with.

  As for the fruit tarts, Melissa Shepherd had actually entered and won in that category. The look on Constable Greenaway’s face when she was announced the winner was the only consolation Maggie had after Mrs. Grant scones were snubbed. The boy looked positively in love.

  ****

  As he had taken to doing every year, Simon walked Maggie to the restaurant tent to have lunch with her. It was Maggie’s favorite part of the day, because she could catch up on the gossip from Simon’s small town, which wasn’t too far away. She filed this information away systematically, to be retrieved later if needed.

  Usually, the two of them would have hamburgers and chips, but today Maggie caught her nephew drooling over the Bangalow pork belly with plum sauce, so she suggested they each get a plate of that instead. Between that, the roasted potatoes, steamed broccoli and tea, the two of them were perched happily under the tent for the better part of an hour. For dessert, they each had a slice of fruit tart from Melissa’s award winning tray. Maggie knew she would have to do a few extra laps of her ten acre property tomorrow to wear off the extra calories she devoured today.

  As Maggie was scooping the sauce from her last bite of pie, there was a commotion near the back of the tent. Someone was choking, and apparently no one knew what to do anything besides sit and stare. That is, until Mrs. Davies stood up and knocked her chair over, causing Jane Neddles to scream at the sight of her friend writhing on the ground for breath. At that point, people started clamoring around her, unsure what to do.

  “Someone find Detective Sullivan!! Or a doctor!” Jane screamed, trying to pry Mrs. Davies hands from her face so she could help. Soon, though, the woman stopped thrashing, and relaxed her hands, then relaxed her whole body into Jane’s arms.

  “Oh my God!” Jane cradled her friend, pushing the hair back on the top of her head as if she were petting a cat. “No no no…..”

  “How can that be?” Mrs. Grant whispered as Maggie trotted up behind the crowd.

  ****

  Tom Sullivan rushed through the front of the tent. He’d been visiting the fete with his family, just like everyone else, but was happy to help. Frantically, he searched for the choking victim. All he’d been told was to get to the food tent immediately because someone was chokin
g. Pushing through the crowd, he knelt down next to Jane and lovingly helped her stand up and passed her off to a nearby onlooker.

  “You there!” He pointed to an older woman who looked as though she could speak well enough. “Which table was she at?”

  The old woman pointed to her right with a shaky hand.

  Tom spoke loud enough for the entire tent to hear. “No one touches that table, you understand? Don’t even pick up your purse. Leave it there; I don’t care if it’s inconvenient. Don’t touch it.” There were a few grumbles, but everyone stayed away from it.

  Constable Greenaway trotted into the tent, and Tom gave him some sort of signal to manage the crowd, which he did.

  “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,” he said only loud enough to be heard. “You heard the man. Stay back.”

  Tom opened his mobile phone and dialed the only funeral parlor driver in town. Carmichael’s Funerals had been a part of Bangalow since 1949, a family run business now in its third generation. Since the town was small, it didn’t have its own autopsy facility or morgue, so Mrs. Davies would have to be transported to Lismore, some thirty kilometers away, for evaluation. Tom was pretty certain he was dealing with an elderly woman that had choked on her food but needed to be sure.

  It was very sad, but hardly the reason to make people wait any longer than they had to. He would take some snapshots and get a few statements and let everyone get back to the event if that’s what they wanted. The crowd was already growing restless.

  ****

  It wasn’t twenty seconds before Tom’s eye was twitching. The body had only been gone a few minutes, and already he saw Maggie set into motion. The woman was a dear soul, but nothing irked him more than having her know things first. Tom didn’t want to be shown up again by Lady Margaret Turnbull, Bangalow’s would be amateur sleuth, over a highly trained, academy graduated detective.