Bethany read through Mr. Stone’s notes and wrote a bunch of things onto several sheets of paper. “Here we are then,” she said eventually. “This is your total for today.”
Fenella looked at the number that Bethany had helpfully circled and smiled. It wasn’t nearly as much as she’d feared it might be.
“Mr. Stone has given you a rather substantial discount,” the woman told her. “He does that for people who rescue strays.”
“That’s very kind of him,” Fenella said. She handed over her credit card. She really needed to stop using her US-issued card and apply for one over here. Every time she charged something, she was paying all sorts of fees.
“So, you found Alan’s body,” the woman said conversationally as she handed Fenella her card back.
“Um, yes,” Fenella muttered, taken by surprise by the question.
“Alan and I were, well, we’d gone out a few times,” the woman said. “It wasn’t anything serious, but I was still sad to hear about his death.”
“I’m sorry,” Fenella said.
“I don’t suppose you noticed what he was wearing?” the woman asked.
“Not really,” Fenella replied. “I was rather upset.”
“Yes, I’m sure you were. It doesn’t matter.”
Fenella frowned and thought back. “Why do you ask?” she said after a moment.
“Oh, I gave him a tie and I was just sort of hoping he might have been wearing it that day,” the woman said. She blushed. “He had a terrible tendency to shop at charity shops and he would never have anything tailored. His clothes never fit properly and he wouldn’t let me buy him new suits or anything like that. I finally compromised and bought him a really nice silk tie. I thought maybe it would help make him look more successful when he was out trying to find clients.”
“When he knocked on my door earlier that day, he was wearing a blue tie,” Fenella told her. “I didn’t really notice it specifically, but it sort of clashed with his shirt, which was a different shade of blue.”
Bethany frowned. “Not the tie I gave him, then,” she said. “The one I gave him was dark grey with a very subtle lighter grey pinstripe.” She sighed. “He didn’t really appreciate me at all.”
“Perhaps he was saving that tie for something special,” Fenella suggested.
“Or perhaps he was an idiot,” the woman snapped back. “Oh, he could be charming when he wanted to be, but I’m old enough to know better, really. When my husband left, it really knocked my self-esteem, but getting involved with Alan Collins was stupid under any possible circumstance.”
Fenella wasn’t sure how to respond to the woman, so she busied herself with folding up the pile of paperwork she’d been given and putting it into her handbag. None of that was easy with Katie in one hand, but she didn’t want to put the kitten down on Bethany’s desk.
By the time Fenella was finished with that job, Bethany seemed to have regained her composure.
“Sorry about the outburst,” she said briskly. “It’s been a long week.”
“It has indeed,” Fenella muttered.
“And then you found Mark as well, didn’t you?” Bethany asked. “And I had him at the top of my lists of suspects for Alan’s murder. I suppose I was wrong about that.”
“Why would Mark have killed Alan?” Fenella asked.
“Oh, they were always fighting about something,” Bethany told her. “I just assumed they’d started arguing and Mark finally snapped and stabbed Alan.”
“Maybe he did. Maybe someone else killed Mark,” Fenella suggested.
“Maybe,” Bethany shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter.”
“I’d quite like to see the killer or killers behind bars,” Fenella said.
“Oh, yes, I suppose so,” Bethany replied with a shrug. “Anyway, Mr. Stone has asked me to ring you in two weeks. If you still have the kitten, he’ll want to talk to you about vaccinations and spaying.”
“Yes, of course,” Fenella replied. Something Bethany had said was nagging at her, but she wasn’t sure what it was.
“Thank you for choosing our practice for your pet care needs,” Bethany added mechanically.
“You’re welcome,” Fenella muttered. She turned and walked toward the door, Katie happily snuggled up in her arms. It wasn’t until she was standing in the elevator on the way up to her apartment that she finally remembered something.
“Mark Potter was wearing a dark grey tie with a lighter grey pinstripe,” she exclaimed as the elevator doors opened. Unwillingly, her mind called up the image of the man behind the desk. His white shirt had been stained red with blood, but the tie, pulled partway off, had looked untouched. If it was the same tie that Bethany had purchased, she was right; it had been a lovely tie.
Chapter Eight
As soon as she’d let herself into her apartment and set Katie down to run around, Fenella rang the Douglas police station on their non-emergency number.
“I’d like to speak to Inspector Robinson, please,” she told the woman who’d answered the call.
“I can take a message and ask him to ring you back,” the woman said. “Or you can speak to someone else in his department.”
“I’ll wait for him to call me back,” Fenella told her.
She put the phone down and then followed the sound of an unhappy kitten. Katie had managed to get herself tangled up in the strings for the blinds in the spare bedroom and she couldn’t seem to get loose. Fenella quickly rescued her new friend and then set her on the ground.
“Now go and play quietly somewhere,” she said firmly.
Katie looked at her and then walked away. Fenella followed as the kitten walked into the kitchen and began to shout at her empty food dish.
“It is time for lunch, isn’t it?” Fenella asked, looking at the clock. She opened a can of kitten food for Katie and then fixed herself a sandwich. When that was gone, she found herself pacing around the apartment, waiting for the telephone to ring.
“This is silly,” she said loudly to herself after a while. “Do something useful instead.”
She turned her laptop back on and spent several minutes composing a suitable reply to the colleague who had requested a reference. She was happy to provide one, as the man was a nice person and a good historian. As she was typing, her inbox went “ping” at her.
Three new emails had arrived. The first asked for her help in moving several million dollars from an unnamed African country into the US. In exchange for letting them use her bank account, she would get a million dollars to keep. Fenella deleted the “generous” offer while shaking her head. Surely no one was still falling for such scams these days, not after all of the publicity they’d received.
The second email was from Jack, asking her to call him and talking about how much he missed her. Fenella rolled her eyes and hit delete, thinking she’d rather respond to the first email than that one.
She was surprised to find that the third message was from Mr. Stone, her new veterinarian.
I emailed all of my colleagues on the island with a picture of your little Katie. Thus far, I haven’t had any luck in finding anyone that treated her in the past. I have a few more offices that haven’t responded yet, and if they are all negative, I’ll try contacting a few friends in the Liverpool and Heysham areas. I suppose it’s possible that Katie came to the island as a visitor.
“It looks like I’m stuck with you for the time being, at least,” Fenella told the kitten, who was back on the most comfortable chair in the room.
Katie gave her a small “merrow” and then settled in to give herself a bath.
While she waited for the inspector to call, Fenella began to check into the cost of traveling to London. Flights seemed expensive, but the ferry didn’t go anywhere near London and Fenella couldn’t imagine renting a car and driving herself all around England. Still, if she was going to do the research she needed to do, she was going to have to find a way to get to various sites.
By the time the p
hone rang, Fenella had curled up with a good book. Katie jumped at the sudden noise and then leapt down from her perch.
“No more food until dinner,” Fenella told her as she watched the kitten head toward the kitchen. Katie veered to the left and disappeared down the short corridor where the bedrooms were. Fenella grabbed the phone on its fifth ring.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Woods? It’s Inspector Robinson. You left a message asking me to ring?”
“Ah, yes, I did,” Fenella agreed.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“I had a strange conversation with someone today,” Fenella replied. “And she said something that’s been bothering me.”
“Go on.”
Fenella told him about her chat with Bethany at the vet’s office.
“That will be Bethany Carter,” the inspector said. “I’ve met her.”
“I didn’t catch her last name,” Fenella replied.
“Should I ask why you were at Mr. Stone’s office?” the man asked.
“Oh, I’ve acquired a kitten,” Fenella said. “She just ran into my apartment and now I can’t seem to get rid of her. I’m sure someone is missing her, but until I find her owners, I’m going to be keeping her.”
“A kitten?” the man asked.
“Yes, she’s black and I thought she was a Manx because she’s missing her tail, but Mr. Stone said she must have lost it in an accident or something.”
“I see,” the man replied. “Pets are excellent companions,” he remarked. “As well as being a large responsibility.”
“Yes, I’m just finding that out,” Fenella replied as she heard a crashing noise from her bedroom.
“Was there anything else?” he asked.
“No, that was all,” Fenella said. “I just thought it was odd, Mr. Potter wearing the tie that Bethany gave to Mr. Collins.”
“Of course, it might just have been a similar tie,” the inspector pointed out. “Or maybe Mr. Collins didn’t like it, so he gave it to his business partner.”
“I’m just glad it’s your problem and not mine,” Fenella said. “Oh, I don’t think that came out right, but I hope you know what I mean.”
“I do,” the man said with a laugh. “And I appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you’d heard. You never know when some little bit of information is going to be the piece we need to solve the whole puzzle.”
He hung up and Fenella rushed to her bedroom to see what Katie had done. A bottle of perfume that had been sitting on top of a chest of drawers was on the floor. Luckily, it hadn’t broken or spilled. After she’d picked it up, Fenella tucked it into the top drawer of the chest. Then she cleared off everything else that was on top of the furniture in the room, tucking it all safely away.
Katie was stretched out across the huge king-sized bed, watching as Fenella worked.
“You’re more work than a small child would be,” Fenella scolded the animal. “Small children can’t jump like you can.”
By the time she’d finished clearing away everything she thought Katie might break, it was time for dinner. In the kitchen she gave Katie her dinner first and then fixed herself some chicken and vegetables. Katie stared at her as she ate, but Fenella decided not to give in.
“No people food for you,” she said sternly. “It isn’t good for you, anyway.”
Katie just looked at her for a moment before she walked away. With the dinner dishes washed and put away, Fenella wondered what to do with her evening. It was Friday night and there was no doubt there would be a lot of people out and about, celebrating the weekend. Fenella thought about joining them and having a drink or two, but she was tired and she didn’t have any idea which pubs or bars were welcoming to older women. The last thing she wanted to do was wander into a bar full of boys and girls in their late teens and early twenties. It would probably be better to wait until she knew more people and could ask them about the best places to go.
She and Jack had nearly always spent Friday night in front of the television, often in different rooms, watching different shows. On the odd occasion they had gone out, it had always been to an event for work. She knew she was feeling restless in part because she felt like she was now free to go out and she didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity.
A knock on her door interrupted her attempt to find something to watch on the television.
“Good evening,” Shelly Quirk said when Fenella opened the door. “I was just going down the road for a drink or two and I wondered if you’d like to join me?”
Fenella tried not to sound as pathetically grateful as she was. “Oh, yes, please,” she said. “I’ll just get a jacket.”
Shelly nodded. “No rush, the pub isn’t going anywhere.”
Katie chose that moment to wander over to inspect the new arrival.
“What a gorgeous kitten,” Shelly cooed. “Where did it come from?”
“She just ran into the apartment earlier today,” Fenella explained. “I’ve taken her to the vet and he’s trying to track down her owners. I’m going to keep her until they’re found.”
Shelly reached down and scratched behind Katie’s ears. The kitten purred loudly. “Oh, she’s lovely,” Shelly said. “I’ve been thinking about getting a kitten, but I’m not sure I have the time or the patience.”
“So far Katie hasn’t been too much trouble,” Fenella told her. “I’m afraid I’m going to enjoy having her around a bit too much and then her rightful owner is going to show up and take her back.”
“If that does happen, I’m sure the shelters have plenty of other animals in need of a good home,” Shelly said.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Fenella agreed. She reached down and gave Katie an affectionate pat. “You be good,” she said sternly. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
Katie looked at her for a moment and then replied with a soft “merrow.”
Fenella locked her door behind them and then followed Shelly to the elevators. “I was thinking about going out,” she told the woman. “But I wasn’t sure where women our age go for drinks on a Friday night.”
Shelly laughed. “You’re a good many years younger than me,” she said. “But I know what you mean. It is hard when you’re past twenty-two and you don’t want to just drink until you can’t stand up and then stagger home with some guy you just met. When I was married we didn’t go out much, but your aunt nagged me all the time to socialize more. She used to drag me to this pub on a Friday or Saturday most weekends, so now it’s comfortable.”
“That sounds like just what I need,” Fenella said. “Somewhere I can feel comfortable having a drink now and then. It’s been years since I went out without a man.”
“It does take some getting used to,” Shelly admitted. “But it can be quite enjoyable in its own way.”
They made their way out of the building, and Fenella followed Shelly as she turned right and walked past a few hotels and bars. They finally stopped in front of a door with a small sign over it that read: “The Tale and Tail.”
“What an interesting name,” Fenella said as Shelly pulled open the door.
“It’s an interesting place,” Shelly told her.
Fenella followed her neighbor into the building and stopped right inside the door, instantly enchanted. There was a large bar area in the middle of the room, but the walls were entirely covered in bookshelves full of books. In one corner, several large cushions were scattered on the floor, and Fenella could see at least three cats dozing on them. As they walked in, the half-dozen or so men and women sitting around the bar turned and waved.
Shelly walked up to the bar and ordered a glass of wine. Fenella was quick to do the same. As Shelly settled herself onto a bar stool, Fenella turned slowly, taking in the entire space.
“There are couches and comfy chairs upstairs,” Shelly told her, gesturing toward a spiral staircase near one of the corners. “You can just grab a book or two and go up and sit and read for as long as you like.”
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p; “It’s perfect,” Fenella said.
Shelly laughed. “It’s pretty special, anyway,” she replied. “It never gets much busier than this, but there is always someone here whenever I come in.”
“I hope they do enough trade to stay in business,” Fenella said.
“Oh, we do,” the bartender assured her as he served their drinks. “We don’t attract huge crowds, but we have so many regulars that we stay quite happily afloat.”
Fenella smiled. “I think you’ve just found yourself another regular,” she said. She looked around again and then turned to Shelly. “I have to look at the books,” she said.
“Go ahead,” Shelly replied.
Fenella got up and walked toward the nearest wall, wondering how long it would take her to look at every single title in the room. Far too long, she decided half an hour later when she’d barely made a dent in the first wall. There were just too many titles, packed tightly against one another, for Fenella to go through them quickly. She sighed. It would go faster if she could stop herself from reading the back covers of nearly every book that looked interesting. As Fenella had rarely ever found a book that didn’t interest her on some level, she’d been reading just about every back cover for every book on each shelf.
“You’ll never get through them all,” a familiar voice said at her elbow.
Fenella laughed and then blushed as she recognized the speaker. “Inspector Robinson, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I think, after hours, you can call me Daniel,” he replied. “And I’m often here on an evening when I’m not working or on call. It’s a very welcoming place, and as a new arrival to the island, I appreciate that.”
“And look at all the books,” Fenella said.
The inspector laughed. “There are rather a lot of them,” he agreed. “I usually take one home with me after I’ve had a drink or two. I started on the opposite wall and I think I’ll have enough reading material for the next seventy or eighty years.”
“You’re allowed to borrow the books?” Fenella asked excitedly.
Arrivals and Arrests (An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Book 1) Page 12
