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Whales and a Watery Grave_Mystery

Page 11

by Ruby Loren


  I took a chocolate doughnut and said thanks. Aimee picked out a strawberry one.

  “You must know everyone here,” I said, actually pretty pleased to find someone normal to chat to.

  “Yeah, everyone’s gotta eat! I know them all, though most of them still have no clue who I am, even though it’s been two and a bit days and they badger me constantly!” We looked around at the bustling plaza. Bryony rushed by, carrying a basket full of sausages. Gina, the director, walked up the steps of Leona’s caravan and knocked on the door before turning and stalking away, visibly annoyed. Ben Ravenwood strolled by and waved at Aimee before doing the same double take when he saw me.

  Dominic yelled something about him being late, so Ben flashed me a thumbs up before continuing on to the gazebo.

  “He’s so nice, isn’t he? You’d think a big star like Ben would be stuck up, but he’s not. Not like she is.” Aimee flicked her fringe back from her eyes, still looking after Ben. I didn’t have to ask who she was referring to when she’d said ‘she’. It looked like everyone was having problems with Leona Richards at the moment. “Yesterday, she had a massive go at me because apparently the ham sandwiches had been out in the sun for too long and might have salmonella.” She rolled her eyes. “Is that even a thing with ham? I’ve seen ham put up with the sweatiest of school lunchboxes. But I guess that’s being a celebrity for you…”

  “Madi! Dominic says he needs you to come back. He said he’s just looked out and wants to fix your hair?” Ben reappeared and then shrugged.

  “He’ll never manage it,” I replied and shot an apologetic look at Aimee.

  “See you later. I’ve gotta get changed in a moment anyway. Marco does all the cooking usually, but he’s off today, so it’s all down to me. Some people have to actually work around here in order to get paid.” She shot another pointed look in the direction of the caravan, where Skye was currently knocking on her friend’s door. She opened it up and called something before walking away again. “I’ll make sure you get a good lunch,” Aimee promised me with a sly grin.

  I trotted back to the gazebo, glad that I’d met someone who wasn’t chasing fame.

  Dominic was still jabbing bobby pins into my hair and questioning the will of the gods, whilst Ben looked on amused, when Skye appeared, looking decidedly awkward.

  Dominic saw her and rolled his eyes, realising the actress wanted to talk to me. “Just go. I’ve done what I can with what I have here.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Dom, she looks fine,” Ben said with an easy smile. The makeup artist just shook his head and shot an admiring look in Ben’s direction. I did my best to not feel offended.

  “Leona feels so bad about what happened last night,” Skye said when I’d extracted myself from the disapproval of the hair and makeup artist. “She had a little too much to drink and thought it would be nice to show that she’s friendly with a zoo owner. Wildlife presenters are often seen as villains by zoos, you know,” she said, looking at me seriously, as if revealing some truth I hadn’t already noticed. “She’d love to make it up to you, perhaps by going out for lunch?”

  I tried not to sigh out loud. “Do you think the press will turn up again?” I asked, hoping to at least drive home that I was pretty sure the woman in front of me had been very involved in making that happen last night. I was slightly gratified when she turned a little pink.

  “No, definitely not. No press. She really does love the comic, you know,” Skye continued, desperately trying to win me back over. I realised I felt sorry for her. She wasn’t the villain of this piece, she was just an ambitious actress who thought that sucking up to TV presenters was the best way to one day get herself that job. Perhaps it was the best way. What did I know?

  I looked out over the square again, doing my best to calm down and think of something nice to say. Instead, my eyes fell on Darius, who looked around several times before walking up the steps to Leona’s caravan. My, my, she was popular today! I saw him knock and then realised I’d been giving Skye the silent treatment.

  “I’ll have a chat with her about it. Thank you for bringing me the apology. There was no harm done in the end… was there?” I added, remembering the mayhem that had ensued after the paella incident.

  “A few unfortunate photos, but the press decided to go with the comedy angle rather than anything too harsh. They love that kind of story because it humanises celebrities.” She said it like it was a fact she’d learned at school, to be used in order to further one’s career. Maybe there was some kind of rule book I needed to get my hands on in order to deal with all of this…

  “I’m glad to hear it,” I said, glancing back over at where Darius was now calling out. Then he opened the door and stepped inside. What business would he have with Leona? I wondered, my best friend defending instincts coming out. I’d noticed him being over-friendly last night with one of the other actresses. I wasn’t sure he was going to turn out to be a faithful boyfriend, and now could be a chance to catch him redhanded…

  I was about to excuse myself from Skye when Darius reappeared in the doorway of the caravan and nearly fell down the steps. He caught himself and then stood doubled over with one hand pressed against the side of the caravan, breathing in and out, visibly. Next, he slid down and came to rest on the floor, looking dazed and stricken. In spite of this rather dramatic scene, no one went to see if he was all right. I was forced to concur with Aimee that the majority of people who worked here really weren’t interested in anyone who wasn’t anyone.

  “He needs help,” I muttered to Skye before walking across the square towards Darius. I may find him a sleaze, but it was clear he’d been taken ill in a sudden way and needed some assistance.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, rather stupidly, when I arrived next to Darius. Skye had trotted after me and was looking from me to the reproduction actor with a nervous expression on her face.

  “No,” Darius said, but didn’t elaborate for a few moments. Just when I was about to prompt him, he spoke again. “Leona’s dead. You’d better get Gina over here and tell her.”

  Skye’s hands had fluttered to her face when Darius had bluntly pronounced the death of the TV presenter, but as soon as he asked for the director, she strangely perked up. “I’ll get her!” she said and hurried away.

  “If she’s really dead, we need to call the police, not the director,” I chided Darius, wondering what on earth Tiff had seen in this man other than his good looks. I decided I probably didn't want to know.

  As everyone else was still studiously ignoring Darius, who had turned paler than I thought was healthy, I was left with the dubious job of ascertaining whether or not he was telling the truth. I climbed up the steps to the caravan and knocked, calling out for the presenter. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the caravan, I realised that she wasn’t going to answer.

  Leona Richards was quite definitely dead.

  The actress was lying on the sofa to the right of the caravan, beneath the posters of herself. My stomach lurched when I realised her head was a strange shape. The hideous glass statue of the killer whales, lying on the floor with gore and hair stuck to it, filled in the blanks.

  “Urgh!” I said when something moved on the carpet near my sandal. A flash of blue and red revealed a tetra neon fish, out of its tank. Now my eyes were fully adjusted, I could also see a couple of others on the carpet. I got down on one knee but the movement I’d noticed must have been the fish’s final twitch. It was too late to save these victims. In the tank itself, one of the plants was floating along the surface, but the other fish seemed just fine. Had three of them mysteriously decided to commit suicide when their owner had been bludgeoned to death?

  I took a step closer to the presenter, forcing myself to look at her face. Her eyes were open in slits and I was startled to see that the whites of her eyes were in fact a scary shade of yellow. I was still trying to get my head around that when the door was opened wider again and Gina stepped in, followed by the prod
ucers, the head cameraman, and Skye, who took one look at Leona and ran back out, sobbing. Travis rushed over, unnecessarily feeling for a pulse. The others spread out in the caravan, bumping into things and knocking them and then touching them as they tried to place them back. I gritted my teeth at the destruction of evidence going on.

  “We need to call the police,” I said, when it became apparent that no one was even thinking along those lines yet.

  Everyone stopped talking and stared at me. “This is a crime scene. She’s clearly been murdered. It would probably be a good idea if we all left the caravan and tried to not touch anything.”

  “But she’s dead,” Gina said, somewhat nonsensically. I could understand that they were upset, but they were actually hindering the likelihood that Leona’s killer would be found.

  “We should talk outside and call the police,” I repeated, hoping that my message would get through the shock. I didn’t want to be callous, but even though it was upsetting finding your lead talent dead, there was still a duty to seek justice - no matter how attached you were to your filming schedule.

  “This is a disaster,” Patrick said as soon as we were back in the beautiful fresh air. I hadn’t even realised how much the smell of death had lingered in the stuffy caravan.

  “What’s happened?” Ben ran over having seen our grim expressions.

  “It’s Leona…” Gina began and then broke off, covering her mouth with her hand and looking upset.

  “I’m afraid she’s dead,” I gently explained, knowing that Ben had some feelings for Leona, romantic or otherwise.

  “I’ll call the police,” Ross the cameraman said, showing that he was a little more worldly wise than the rest of them.

  Patrick, Travis, and Gina walked a little way away from the caravan and then slumped down in three deckchairs. Even after a murder they’re not willing to dirty their clothes, I thought and then felt bad for having a snide attitude at a time like this. Everyone reacted to death differently. I was just sorry to have had prior experience.

  “I can’t believe she’s dead,” Darius said, over and over.

  I settled down next to him, realising that while the producers and the director had each other, no one was looking out for him.

  “I just can’t believe it…” he continued, staring at the ground. “We were together last night and now she’s dead. It doesn’t make sense.”

  I opened my mouth to point out how it was feasible for you to spend time with someone and for them to turn up dead later, but it really wasn’t the right moment for that. Especially when Darius had just revealed something that the police would definitely be interested to hear.

  And they wouldn’t be the only ones.

  “You were with her last night?” Ben asked, an edge creeping into his voice.

  Darius nodded morosely. “We had something good going. She was a little weird, but super up for it.”

  I felt my eyes widen at the inappropriateness of the words exiting Darius’ mouth. He’d quite clearly forgotten who he was talking to! My best friend was supposed to be dating this lousy good-for-nothing cheat, and from my earlier conversation with Ben, I’d thought that things had still been fairly open between him and Leona.

  “Why did she die? She was such a babe,” Darius said, pushing himself upright and looking a lot less pale, thinking about how hot the dead woman was. Everything seemed to turn to slow motion as Ben pulled back his arm and then smashed his fist into Darius’ face, causing him to fall back and bounce off the side of the caravan. I heard the sound of everything jiggling inside and spared a moment to wonder about how much more evidence had just been destroyed, before I realised that Ben needed to be stopped. He was already on his third punch.

  “Hey! Stop! He’s an idiot and a sleaze. I’m mad at him, too, but you do not want to be found fighting at the scene of a crime. Trust me,” I ground out, secretly wanting to get a few good licks in myself. I didn’t know how I was going to tell Tiff… she’d seemed to really like Darius.

  “Why are you hitting me, man? She picked me,” Darius unwisely said, even as blood was streaming from his nose.

  I stepped in-between the two men before more punching got underway. “Don’t beat him up when the police are on their way,” I warned Ben and then turned to Darius. “As for you, you cheating scumbag… I’d advise that you stop talking or you’ll find yourself locked up.” I hated to hand out advice, but I honestly didn’t think Darius had done it. He was just too stupid - as adequately proved by him somehow believing he could flirt with and sleep with women, practically under my nose and believe that he could get away with it. I highly doubted that he’d murdered the woman he was sleeping with and then pulled off an Oscar worthy performance of shock and horror. He was no Leonardo DiCaprio.

  The punching had attracted quite a lot of attention - probably because Ben Ravenwood had been involved. A crowd had gathered and I could hear the whispers spreading that Leona Richards was dead in her caravan. At a guess, I would say that Skye must be responsible for that. Even after Leona’s death, her shadow was still good at getting the word out.

  “Hey. Hey!” Travis said, standing up from his deckchair and looking round at the semi-circle crowd. Many of them had pulled their phones out and were busily tapping away. “You are not allowed to post this to social media! Anyone who does not immediately delete any posts made, or stop writing them right now, will be fired and not be given any references. We will be checking. There will be an official announcement made when it’s been established exactly what has happened here. Until that time, I would ask you to respect Leona and refrain from splashing it all over the internet.”

  Behind his back, I noticed Gina look up from her phone and then surreptitiously tap a few more times on the screen. Even the director wasn’t above a bit of gossip-spreading via social media it would seem. I suspected that someone would see one of those tweets and rumours would begin to spread. Once something had been posted to the internet, it was difficult to delete for good. Who knew how many screenshots had been taken?

  Ben had been standing next to me like a motionless tree. I only remembered he was there when he spoke.

  “What happened to her? How did she die?”

  “Uh…” I hesitated. That was probably the sort of thing I shouldn’t hand out information about, as it would definitely count as interfering with the police investigation. “I think she’s been murdered,” I said, deciding to keep it simple.

  “Why would anyone do that? It doesn’t make sense…” he said, broadly copying Darius’ sentiment. “I just can’t believe it.” I watched as he began to fall to pieces. The only thing I could think to do was reach out and hug him. He leant in, pulling me in tight, and we stood there while he took several deep breaths and collected himself back together.

  He pulled away when we heard purposeful footsteps approaching. “Thanks,” he said to me right before the police arrived and shouted Spanish rang out as the officer in charge barked out orders. A couple of police officers split off and began herding the crowd back before cordoning the area off with police tape.

  “An English officer is here to make sure there are no bad understandings,” the chief officer said, addressing those of us behind the cordon. “She will get your stories.” The man beckoned an officer, who’d been holding back on the other side of the plaza, helping to secure all potential witnesses. “We will go and look for evidence,” he finished, and then went inside the caravan with another officer.

  It wasn’t long before the English officer appeared through the crowd and looked around at us.

  I felt my jaw drop.

  This couldn’t be a coincidence.

  I shut my mouth just as fast as I’d opened it, sensing that showing recognition could raise more questions than I could answer. Instead, I satisfied myself with giving the ‘English officer’ some serious side eye as she started organising people into groups and asking a few preliminary questions.

  “What’s your name and what is your business
here?” she asked when she reached me, even though I knew that she knew my name and my business all too well. Katya was part of the organisation who had manipulated and falsified my comic’s success in order to bait their real criminal targets. And if she was here on the island, I could only assume that MI5’s operation wasn’t over after all.

  7

  Dead and Gone

  After I told Katya my name and occupation, which she already knew, she looked thoughtful and then frowned at something on the iPad she was holding, after making a few decided typing motions.

  “I need to have a word with you in private, Ma’am. Immigration don’t seem to have any record of you coming through here to work…” she said, annoyingly accurately.

  “I’d be happy to help,” I said and followed her far away from the crowd, round a corner, and then behind an aquarium full of stingrays, which had a ‘staff only’ sign written across it.

  “I’d say we’re out of earshot,” I muttered, already annoyed. The Secret Service had that effect on me these days. “What are you doing here? I thought we were finished.”

  Katya looked hurt. “We’re supposed to be friends, aren’t we?”

  “Well, I thought we were. But now you’re turning up out of the blue in Mallorca? What did you do, trace the call?” I asked, remembering how she’d phoned and asked if I could sign the comic books for her niece and cousin.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “You suddenly disappeared from the country without notice right after a huge case falls apart because someone told the bad guys we were onto them. You fill in the gaps.”

  It was so wrong I almost felt like laughing. “Auryn and I were trying to get away for a holiday before the new zoo opens and we get tied down for a while. We were supposed to be having a nice time, although Auryn decided to mix pleasure with business and organised a meet up with his buddy who’s head keeper here. We came for the meeting and it turns out the head keeper wanted us around to…” I thought about it. Why had Nile pushed us towards the documentary team? “…I think he might have wanted us to be his spies, or perhaps argue the park’s side of things. He’s worried that some of their conservation efforts might be misrepresented.” I sighed. “I came here today to do a stupid interview with one of the wildlife TV presenters, Ben Ravenwood, and instead I find a dead body.” I bit my lip. Katya’s sudden appearance and apparent suspicions were making me sound way too callous. “I’m just concerned that Auryn and I will be dragged into this investigation.” I ran a hand through my styled hair, probably ruining it. “We just wanted a holiday.” It felt like a tired old mantra now.

 

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