by Agatha Frost
Leaving Katie to powder her nose and reapply her lipstick, Julia slipped out of the bedroom, the bright lights of the hallway blinding her.
She walked down the hallway towards the bathroom, needing a moment to herself, the image of Luke’s poor body still etched in her mind. She almost felt bad for thinking that she disliked the boy yesterday; she had not even known him.
Walking past his bedroom, which had been cordoned off by the forensics team as they went over the room with a fine toothcomb, she opened the bathroom door and slipped inside. She rested her head on the cold wood, her eyes closed; it felt nice to be alone.
“Can I help you?” a deep male voice asked.
Julia’s eyes sprung open, the discovery that she was not alone hitting her full force. She parted her lips to speak as she stared ahead at the bald man, who she first thought was Ethan, but quickly realised was Theo when she saw his straight nose in the mirror’s reflection.
“We haven’t officially met,” Julia said, stretching out a hand and taking a step forward. “I’m Julia. Barker’s girlfriend.”
“That’s all very well and good, but I was in here first,” Theo snapped, his dark brows, the only thing to remind her of Barker, low over his eyes. “Don’t you know how to knock?”
Julia looked down at her hand before dropping it to her side. She could not blame the man for being angry. Even though he was only leaning against the sink, it could have been a lot worse.
“I’m sorry,” she said, taking a tentative step back. “It’s been a very odd day.”
“You’re telling me,” Theo mumbled as he turned back to the mirror. “These damn things are irritating me.”
He pulled down the skin under his eyes, his pupils drifting up into the back of his head. He blinked hard with his finger pressed against his eyeball, something slimy and small coming away on the tip.
“Contact lenses don’t mix when you keep crying,” he admitted in a deep voice, the corners of his mouth pricking into a sad smile as he caught Julia’s gaze in the reflection. “I wasn’t that close to my nephew, but he was too young to die. I think our family is cursed.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Julia offered pathetically, looking back at the door, wishing she had knocked after all. “This isn’t how I wanted us all to meet.”
“I wasn’t even going to come,” he said. “After what happened with Bethany I – never mind. Bella convinced me to come. Well, it was Conrad, really. He wanted to take some pictures in the countryside. He said it would be good for his ‘layout’.”
“Layout?”
“His online gallery,” Theo said with a shake of his head to let Julia know they were on the same page when it came to the understanding of the language the younger ones were speaking. “He said some greenery would break up the urban backdrops. I don’t know. He’s brought a case load of clothes that he’s being paid to advertise. I’d rather he got a real job, but he’s making more money than most kids his age. They were going to shoot tomorrow before we left, but – we weren’t expecting this.”
“None of us were,” Julia said, sighing heavily as she thought about the birthday cake she had spent so long baking, which was at risk of spoiling in the boot of her car. “I should get back. Sorry for intruding.”
“It’s okay,” he said, turning back to the mirror to take out his second contact lens. “You were right. It is a shame we’re meeting under these circumstances.”
Julia slipped out of the bathroom, leaving Theo alone. The second she left him, she heard the soft sobs of a grieving uncle on the other side of the door.
“Julia?” her father called up the stairs, a cup in his hand. “I’ve made you some of that peppermint and liquorice tea you like. I bought some specially.”
Never happier to see her father, Julia padded softly down the staircase, a cup of her favourite tea just what she needed.
6
By the time Julia finished her tea it was almost eight in the evening. It somehow felt much later, but Julia decided she would switch to coffee to fend off exhaustion if needed. If Barker was staying awake all night to figure out what had happened, Julia would too.
After washing her cup and placing it on the metal draining board, she looked through the cupboards before moving onto the large pantry, jealous that she did not have one in her small cottage. Despite no one in the house being bakers, they seemed to own every ingredient to make anything Julia’s heart could have desired. She did not realise she was gathering the things to make her mother’s chocolate chip cookies until her arms were almost full. Kicking the pantry door back into its frame, she walked carefully over to the island and placed down the ingredients, careful not to knock over the open bag of flour.
Baking was Julia’s chosen form of therapy; it was free, if you did not include the cost of ingredients, which she did not, especially when she was baking in someone else’s kitchen.
Julia was not stupid; she knew her baking served a double purpose. As she measured out the flour, she made sure to pour enough for everyone in the house to have at least four cookies each if they wanted, including the officers and DS Christie. A sugary, buttery chocolate chip cookie could do things that hours of interrogation could not.
By the time Julia carefully placed the finished warm cookies onto a cooling rack, two men walked past the kitchen door carrying a stretcher, a black body bag lying motionlessly on top. Out of respect, Julia averted her eyes, but the shrill cry of a bereaved mother made her eyes drift up.
Across the entrance hall in the arms of her husband, Dawn screamed, her strawberry blonde hair flailing across her face, her arms outstretched towards her son as he made his way to the ambulance, which would drive away without a siren. Julia looked down at her cookies, knowing this was beyond even her baking skills.
Barker opened the door to the study, DS Christie right behind him. Casper hobbled out, his lips snarled, and his head low. He paused, leaning against his cane before turning back to face Barker. The two men looked nothing like each other, but from the look of shared disappointment on each of their faces, they could not be anything but brothers.
“Cookies?” a sharp voice cried, coming from a second door on the other side of the kitchen. “You’ve baked cookies?”
Julia turned to see Hilary, the housekeeper, walking carefully across the kitchen, her short heels clicking on the polished tiles. Her wiry blonde and grey hair was pulled back into a snug bun on the top of her head as usual, and her eyes were lined with charcoal liner just like every other time Julia had seen her. Her grey cardigan was creaseless, her skirt perfectly pleated, her shoes matte, and scuff-free.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Julia said, pushing the cooling rack towards Hilary. “I think they’re best when they’re still a little warm. Makes the chocolate gooey.”
Hilary looked down at the cookies, and then up at Julia as though she had just been offered something illegal. Without responding, she marched over to the mess Julia had stacked carefully in the sink for washing later.
“I’ll sort that out,” Julia said quickly, stepping in Hilary’s path. “Why don’t you sit down?”
“I don’t clock off until nine,” she said firmly, her back stiffening as she checked the small watch on the inside of her wrist. “Been the same way for forty years.”
“And tonight, a boy was murdered in his bed,” Julia said, offering a seat at the island. “Sit down and have a cookie. No one is going to mind.”
Hilary stared at the dishes in the sink, her bulbous eyes bulging out of their sockets. To Julia’s surprise, the stiff housekeeper took the offer of a seat. She looked so uncomfortable perching on the edge, one foot still on the floor, her hands clasped in her lap, Julia wondered if she had ever sat at the island before. Julia picked up one of the cookies and took a bite, the warm chocolate making her mouth water the second it hit her tongue. She pushed the cooling rack across to Hilary, who reached out and plucked one from the side, her eyes darting down to the crumbs on the counter.
“This is rather good,” Hilary said in a surprised tone after her first bite. “Very nice indeed.”
“I’ve never seen you in my café,” Julia said, pulling up a seat next to Hilary. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the village.”
“I don’t get down much,” she replied. “I work a lot. I get my supplies from the supermarket out of town.”
“Doesn’t that get boring?”
“I love cleaning,” she said, pausing to take another bite. “You’re a skilled baker.”
“Thank you,” Julia said, the smile on her face genuine. “And you’re a skilled cleaner. You put my cottage to shame.”
A tiny smile prickled Hilary’s tight lips; Julia considered that it was the first she had seen grace the grumpy woman’s face.
“I saw him,” Hilary said after finishing the last piece of cookie. “The boy. I ran over when I heard Katie scream. I was doing a crossword in my bedroom before the party started. I’d been cooking all day, so I was taking a little break.” Hilary paused, her expression souring. “They say you look like you’re sleeping when you die, but he didn’t. He looked scared.”
“He did,” Julia agreed, a lump rising in her throat. “I think I would too if someone strangled me. It’s one of the few ways to kill someone where you have to actually look in the victim’s eyes. Also, one of the few ways that is truly spontaneous.”
“Spontaneous?”
“It means they didn’t plan it.”
“I know what the word means, child,” Hilary snapped, her frosty edges prickling up again. “I just always thought murders had to be meticulously planned.”
“Some are,” Julia said with a nod, her eyes fixed on the cookies, her stomach rumbling. “But strangling is so immediate and primal. There are easier ways to kill without it being obvious.”
“You seem to know a lot.”
“I keep getting tangled up in these things,” Julia said, pushing her hands up into her curly hair, dreaming of the day she could go a full month without another body springing up. “I think I’ve had more column inches in The Peridale Post this year than most people will in a lifetime.”
“I don’t read it,” Hilary admitted, offering a shrug. “It’s no different than a tabloid rag. Why do I care about flower shows and club meetings? I’m happy to keep myself to myself up here.”
“Probably for the best,” Julia said, glancing to the study as Barker led Heather inside for questioning. “Although it seems tonight the action has come to you, and I can’t help but feel responsible for that.”
“As you should,” Hilary said firmly with a measured nod. “Although you should not feel guilty for the boy’s murder. He died at the hands of one of his family members. My guess would be that whatever drove that person to kill would have happened whether they were here, or wherever they came from.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Julia said, hoping that was the case. “Although they’re from different parts of the country.”
Hilary considered Julia’s words for a moment. To her surprise, Hilary reached out for a second cookie; Julia did the same.
“These really are nice,” Hilary said, her eyes focussing on the rough surface. “You were right about them being pleasant when warm. You can really taste the butter. People are afraid to use it these days. Everything will kill you if you believe the news.” Hilary lifted the rest of the cookie up to her lips before pulling it back down and dropping it onto the white marble counter. “Being a housekeeper means you get very good at being invisible. You learn to know when you should be seen, and when you need to vanish in an instant. They haven’t even thought to interview me yet. Perhaps they’re getting to me, but I suspect I’ve slipped their minds. I doubt they even know I’m here.”
Julia crammed the rest of her cookie into her mouth as she stared at Hilary. When she realised what Hilary was implying, Julia almost choked on the crumbs as she hurried to swallow them.
“Do you know something?” Julia asked, her eyes popping out of her head to match Hilary’s. “Tell me.”
“I would never have said anything if the boy wasn’t currently en route to a hospital morgue,” Hilary said, pointing her finger at Julia. “I want you to know that. Another part of being a housekeeper is knowing when to keep your mouth shut. What people get up to after dark has nothing to do with me.”
“After dark?”
“The sun sets rather early this time of year, doesn’t it?” Hilary said. “I always thought it was funny how people choose to do these things under the cover of darkness, but I presume they feel safer. They would have been better waiting until the early hours of the morning if they really wanted to go unseen, although I expect there would be no fun in it, would there?”
“Fun in what?” Julia begged, edging closer and closer. “What did you see, Hilary?”
“The sun set on Peridale Manor around half past four today,” Hilary said. “I saw the handsome blond man enter Luke’s bedroom at five.”
“Conrad?”
“He didn’t leave until twenty-five minutes later, and he was in a state of undress.”
“Undress?” Julia asked. “You mean –”
“Let’s just say the young man has a very chiselled torso and toned thighs,” Hilary said, blushing a little as she slid off the stool. “I was dusting the skirting boards, I was not spying. Either way, the boy didn’t see me.”
“You’re saying Luke was having an affair with Conrad?” Julia asked, her eyes popping open even wider. “An affair with his cousin’s boyfriend?”
“I told you what I saw,” Hilary said, picking up three more of the cookies and slotting them into the pocket of her cardigan. “I think I will enjoy the rest in my room. Do with my information what you please, Julia. Just stay out of trouble. We’ve had enough death in the manor this year. I’d like to see in the New Year without another ghost stalking the hallways.”
Julia promised that she would try her best to stay out of trouble. She let out a disbelieving laugh as she watched Hilary leave the way she had entered. She felt like a fool for not even considering the housekeeper. Julia pulled her phone from her pocket and looked at the grainy picture she had taken of Luke’s mobile phone. She pinched the screen and zoomed in, turning the phone upside down. Had Barker been right? Was she staring at someone’s behind?
A rattle at the window made Julia drop her phone onto the counter with a clatter. She jumped out of her seat, her breath short, heart racing. Just as Bella had a few hours ago with her, Julia turned to see Jessie cupping her hands against the window.
“Let me in,” Jessie whispered. “I’ve just had to dodge two police officers.”
“What are you doing here?” Julia cried, hurrying across the kitchen. “It’s not safe.”
“I’m bored,” she huffed. “Dot is forcing me to play word association, and she keeps ending up on ‘aubergine’. Even when we’re playing an animal round, it always goes back to the bloody aubergines.”
“You’ve been out there this whole time?” Julia asked, not knowing why she was surprised; she should not have expected any less. “It’s freezing!”
“Neil picked Sue up an hour ago,” Jessie said, her hot breath steaming up the glass. “Dot made him bring a thermos of tea, a blanket, a tin of shortbread, and a radio. I can’t bear to watch her suck another piece of shortbread while she mumbles the words to The Beatles. Let me in, Julia. I’m cold.”
Jessie pouted like a little girl, her red nose pressed up against the glass, her eyes similar to Mowgli’s when he wanted feeding; Julia could not bring herself to say no to that face.
“Five minutes,” Julia said after unlocking the door. “You can’t be here.”
“Why not?” Jessie said, a grin spreading from ear to ear as she slipped through the gap. “There’s no way I’m going back to the aubergine game.”
“Where does she think you are?”
“Told her I was going to pee in a bush,” Jessie said with a shrug as she looked around the k
itchen. “Did you bake cookies?”
Jessie immediately crammed one into her mouth, followed closely by a second.
“S’good,” she said, wet crumbs flying everywhere.
“How did you get past the patrol officers?” Julia asked, casting an eye to the patio doors as one of the officers walked past, tipping his head to Julia, not noticing that Jessie was someone entirely new.
“I used to be homeless,” Jessie said as though it were obvious. “It was my job to hide from the police. So, what’s the score? Found the strangler yet?”
Jessie climbed up onto the seat Hilary had been sat in. She crammed another cookie into her mouth, spilling golden crumbs down the front of her black hoody.
“What does this look like to you?” Julia asked, picking up her phone to show Jessie. “Barker thinks it looks like –”
“It’s a big butt,” Jessie said, barely pausing for breath before grabbing a fourth cookie. “Who sent you their butt?”
“Nobody sent it,” Julia said, pulling the cooling rack away. “I need those. I didn’t bake enough for you.”
“As your bribes go, they’re pretty delicious.”
“They’re not bribes,” Julia said with a dry smirk. “More like lip softeners. And I got the picture from the victim’s phone. It was on the screen, but it was only a tiny preview. This is the best photograph I could get.”
“So it’s his butt?” Jessie asked, her eyes firmly on the cookies as her brows tensed together. “That’s a bit sick. Who takes a picture of their butt?”
“It might be someone else’s,” Julia whispered, turning to the grand entrance hall as Bella and Conrad wandered into the sitting room hand in hand. “I have a lead I want to follow up on.”
“Follow away,” Jessie said, diving across the counter to snatch up another cookie. “I’ll just stay here. If anyone comes, I’ll pretend I don’t speak English. That was always my favourite trick. No comprende, Mister Police.”
Julia slid the remaining cookies onto a large plate, leaving Jessie in the kitchen. Julia did not care that she was now four cookies short, it was just nice to see Jessie back to her old self again.
