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The Fatal Fury (An East Pender Cozy Mystery Book 6)

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by Leona Fox


  “What do you mean by 'off'? You think he was scared?”

  “I can't say for certain, but there definitely seemed to be something going on with him.”

  Andy scribbled a few notes in his book and then barked some orders at the officers on the scene. Afterward he walked over to several people who had come out and asked them a few questions, but none of them were helpful. Ellen looked up at her cafe and sighed. Yet another case that needed her attention, and this time it surrounded a mysterious man with a mysterious figurine. Was she being too hasty in declaring that a clue? She didn't know for sure, but she had been on enough of these cases to know anything unusual or out of the ordinary needed to be explored, and this certainly fell into that category.

  “None of them heard anything, not any screams or cries for help,” Andy said as he returned from the brief questioning of the residents.

  “He was probably too weak, although even if he had cried out for help there would have been few people around to listen.”

  “Which also means the killer got away freely.”

  “But somewhere in town there is someone holding a bloody knife, and we have to find out who,” Ellen said, looking at Andy with grim determination.

  “Oh, we will. Let's follow this trail and see where it leads,” he said, directing another officer to make sure nothing was disturbed in his absence.

  He and Ellen followed the trail of blood. Taking out his flashlight he could make out the scarlet path against the cobbled streets. It led them around the corner and into an alley.

  “He made it a long way,” Andy said.

  “All for nothing. There was nobody there to help him,” Ellen said, a hint of regret in her voice.

  “No, but we can help him now. We can find his killer,” Andy said.

  They followed the trail of blood into the alley, where the grisly murder had been masked from the eyes of the street. Tall buildings towered on either side of the narrow alley, the perfect place for a murder to take place. Houses and shops were on either side but nobody had been there. Ellen felt it an injustice that a crime could take place in such a public place yet have no witnesses to offer any information. Indeed, had the man who found Gary's body not been stumbling home from the pub, Gary most likely would have been left there until the morning, and nobody should be left in such an unceremonious way.

  Patches of blood stained the walls and Gary’s path was clearly marked. Ellen's mind flashed with images as she looked at the crime scene and extrapolated from that a series of events. She saw Gary being accosted and stabbed, the shock of the act silencing him. Before he knew it pain blazed through his body and blood seeped out of the stab wounds. Given the location of the wounds it was likely his organs had been punctured, probably a lung, too. It must have taken all his strength to crawl to the cafe. His killer had left him for dead. Ellen looked to either side of the alley, wondering in which direction the killer had run but there was no evidence to suggest an answer.

  “This is going to be a hard one, isn't it?” Ellen said.

  “Yep. I'd better go clean up the crime scene,” he said, and departed while she went to wake up Kelly.

  It was late at night yet Kelly often had strange sleeping hours. So Ellen didn't feel too bad at disturbing her, not until Kelly opened the door with a furious look on her face. Ellen seemed shocked.

  “What are you doing here?” Kelly asked, hair matted with sweat and face flushed red.

  In the background Ellen could hear Matthew calling out and she instantly knew she had interrupted something important.

  “I'm sorry, I should...I should leave you to it,” Ellen said. Kelly blew out her cheeks and leaned against the frame of the door.

  “You wouldn't have come here if it wasn't important. Come in,” she said, and Ellen followed her through to the lounge. Matthew threw on some clothes and came out to join them as Ellen told Kelly about the murder.

  “A murder?” Matthew asked, skin glistening with sweat. He perched himself on the arm of the chair next to Kelly and draped his arm over her shoulder.

  “I'm afraid so,” Ellen said gravely.

  “This is all too much for me, I'm too tired for this. Do you girls mind me going back to bed?” he asked.

  They shrugged and he kissed Kelly before disappearing into the bedroom. He had helped out on a few cases but Ellen wasn't surprised this was too much for him. He only had become involved in their little troupe because of his relationship with Kelly and didn't have the same dedication as the two of them.

  “And you say he was only here for a few days?” Kelly asked.

  “Yeah. That's not much time for anyone to come up with a good reason for murder. Who would want to kill him in such a short space of time?”

  “That's what we've got to find out. He had a Napoleon figurine on him as well. Andy doesn't think it'll mean anything but I have a feeling it's a clue. I have no idea what it's a clue for, but I'm sure this isn't a random stabbing. Somebody wanted him dead.”

  “We need to find out more about him first. You said he was here helping out his aunt? We should go to her and see what she can tell us about him.”

  Whenever Ellen started investigating a crime her mind whirled and she was unable to sleep or rest, especially when there was little to go on and the possibilities were endless. Kelly was the same, and the two women stayed up for hours talking about the myriad reasons somebody would want someone else dead. Jealousy, greed, love, these all were valid motivations and any of them could have been accurate. The only thing they knew for sure was the killer was in East Pender, and they would have to work quickly to find out why Gary was killed.

  After checking the phone book, they found the address of one Mary Speed, and wasted no time in getting to her house. It was early in the morning and Kelly was yawning. Both women were tired but Ellen did not feel fatigued for she was invigorated by the mystery.

  They pulled up to a bungalow not far from the town center. The front yard was kept well and there were a few gnomes standing guard. Bright flowers were arranged around the edges of the yard, and a short concrete path led up to the door. To their surprise a big hulking man opened the door. They had been expecting a frail elderly lady and as such they looked at each other. The man was at least six feet four inches tall and had to crouch to fit under the door frame. He had a shaved head and beady eyes. His body was stocky, he had a gruff, intimidating demeanor, and when he spoke his voice rumbled like thunder.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, examining each woman in turn.

  “Uh, we're looking for a Mary Speed?” Ellen said, and the man stared at her for a few moments, then sniffed.

  “What is this about?”

  “I'm sorry, but this is Mary Speed's house, yes?” Ellen asked, puzzled as to what this man was doing here. There was an eerie tension and something didn't seem quite right.

  “It is. Now, what is your business here?” he repeated, his words having a threatening tone.

  “We have some news about her nephew, may we come in? It's better if we talk to her in person.”

  For a moment neither woman was sure this man actually would let them in, but it gave them a chance to think as they began piecing together the state of Gary's life. Somewhat surprisingly the man stepped aside and allowed them to enter the house.

  “And who might you be?” Ellen asked.

  “I'm Henry, I'm Mary's caregiver,” he said as he showed them into the front room.

  “You won't get much out of her. I don't know what you're here about but she barely registers anything.”

  “Then we won't even know what Gary came to see her about,” Ellen said.

  Henry snorted. “I don't know what news you have about him but it's not anything she'd want to hear even if she was able to do anything about it. That man was a waste of space. He was Mary's only living relative and could he be bothered to visit her often? No. If you ask me that's one of the reasons she is the way she is. Everyone she loved abandoned her, everyone was selfish. Especi
ally Gary. He only comes back when he needs money or when he gets himself into trouble. He takes, takes, takes and never gives anything back. It just makes me sad to see this woman like this when all she needed was somebody to care for her and things could have been so much different. He always does this. Comes back for money or something else. I bet he's left hasn't he? Good riddance to him. He likes to play the victim all the time but he never has sympathy for Mary when she's the one who’s really suffered. Does he ever think of her? No, he just runs away to West Callow all the time.

  You know he never even sent her a birthday card this year? Can you imagine that? Her only nephew and he doesn't bother to do something as simple as that? Even last Christmas it was only me here with her. He said he was going to come, oh yes, he always says he's going to come, but he never does. He's so ungrateful, and after everything she's done for him.”

  Henry simmered with rage and the more he spoke the more his blood boiled, to the point where Ellen and Kelly glanced at each other nervously. Upon becoming aware of this, Henry asked them what the matter was.

  “Gary is dead, he was murdered,” Ellen said, and the color drained from Henry's face.

  His face went through a mixture of expressions until it settled on one of stark realization as his diatribe against Gary put him under suspicion. Ellen watched him carefully for any revelations, but he was a guarded man and his face betrayed nothing.

  “Could you tell us anything more?” Ellen asked, but Henry had a grave look on his face.

  “I should...I should wait. I assume the police will be getting involved?” he said.

  “We work with the police,” Kelly replied.

  “I'm not going to be saying anything until I am with the police,” he said, and then ushered Kelly and Ellen out of the house. Their morning sojourn had not been as productive as Ellen had liked but Kelly seemed upbeat about it.

  “Well, that was certainly a surprise but it seems as though we have our first suspect,” she said.

  “I'm not so sure,” Ellen said, remaining unconvinced.

  “Come on, are you kidding me? The way he spoke about Gary...you can't deny there was some animosity there.”

  “Oh, animosity sure, but did you hear the way he talked about him? He spoke about Gary as though he were still alive. The news came as a shock to him.”

  “He could have been lying, he could have planned for that. I wouldn't be so quick to rule him out just yet. There's definitely more to that story. Why did he only want to talk to the police? He must be hiding something. And, more to the point, why would Gary need to come and do repairs in Mary's house if Henry was there? He looked as though he could take care of most things.”

  Kelly was right, Ellen thought, there was more there than met the eye, and while she didn't think Henry was the murderer there were still questions that lingered about the whole situation. She knew one thing for sure, though. They definitely would have to speak to Henry again.

  Chapter 3

  Ellen was in the cafe when Andy walked in. At first she was pleased to see him, as always, but from the look on his face she knew it was a visit for business, not pleasure. He looked tired and his hair was out of place. One side of his collar was upturned as well. When he approached she fixed his collar and stroked the side of his cheek before kissing him.

  “I needed that,” he said, smiling, and Ellen returned the gesture.

  “You look exhausted, case not going well?”

  “About as well as they ever go,” he said, and put in an order for some coffee and a cake.

  Ellen walked behind the counter and started making his drink, chatting as they went, updating him on their visit to Mary's house.

  “We met her caregiver, Henry, he's a big man, lots of anger.”

  “Think he could have done it?”

  “Kelly does...I'm not so sure, but either way he didn't seem sad when he heard Gary died. There's certainly no love lost there.”

  “Well, I'm really struggling,” Andy said as Ellen walked from behind the counter and the two of them went to a table in the corner.

  From just one sip of his coffee and a large bite of cake he relaxed and looked a hundred times better. Ellen watched on, feeling the love for him swell inside her. All she wanted was for him to be content and happy and while it pained her to see him like this it only made her want to care for him more. Furthermore, one thing she definitely loved about him was the fact he invested himself so emotionally in his cases. It was one of the things that made him such a good, determined cop, even though sometimes it did cause him to invest too much of himself.

  “Are you sure he didn't say anything else to you? Anything, no matter how little?”

  “Nope, there was nothing to suggest any information. I'm sorry.”

  “This is such an odd one,” Andy said, then grimaced and hung his head.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, too. Ellen reached over and squeezed his arm, and this gesture seemed to breathe life into Andy, who visibly relaxed.

  “The problem is we're finding it hard to find suspects because no one we've spoken to actually knows him! A few have seen him around, maybe had a brief conversation like you, but nothing that would precipitate murder.”

  “Unless we've been wrong and it wasn't someone he knew who killed him. If it was just a random act of murder then--”

  “Then we're in even deeper trouble than we are now,” Andy said, exhaling deeply and leaning back in his chair.

  The cake was half-eaten and the coffee cup half-empty. Andy wiped some crumbs away from his lips, “The stab wounds suggest the victim knew the killer. All my training and experience points to that, as does yours. We can't just ignore that. With so little information we're going to have to trust our instincts on this.”

  “Your instincts? What about all the facts and the logic, officer?” she said teasingly, knowing his penchant for working through a case methodically.

  “I suppose it's your bad influence corrupting me,” he said, shooting a wicked smile back at her.

  It pleased her to see him smile and that he still was able to relax, even when faced with a case of this difficulty. When his phone rang he answered it and immediately stood up.

  “Come on,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “After closer inspection we found a key to his hotel room and I sent some men down there to search it. They just called. They haven't found much but what they have found could be useful.”

  He was about to leave but just before he did he glanced back down at the rest of the cake sitting on the plate, with a big hand he picked it up and shoved it in his mouth.

  “Waste not want not,” he said, although given that his mouth was stuffed with cake his words came out muffled and unintelligible.

  Gary had been staying in a small hotel owned by Mr. and Mrs. Vaughan. They were a nice couple and seemed very saddened by the murder, although when questioned they admitted they didn't speak to the deceased that often as he kept to himself. But a lot of their guests were private people so they didn't think that was anything out of the ordinary. He had had no visitors and there was nothing strange about his comings and goings, as far as they could tell. Ellen and Andy went up to his room, which had little in the way of personal possessions. The officers were there waiting for them. While they gave Andy the initial report Ellen glanced around the room to see if she could see anything that would help them piece together the case.

  Andy called her over to a box the officers had found. They opened it and looked inside. The box was fairly large. It would have been uncomfortable to carry daily, so it was evidently something that meant a great deal to him and he wanted by his side. It was made from wood, crafted well, and although there was a lock on it the box was not sealed shut. Inside there was a seemingly random assortment of items. The first thing Andy picked out was a movie ticket. He shook his head.

  “This isn't going to help us.” However, upon looking at the ticket again he noticed it was from a while ago.


  “Why would he have kept this ticket?” he wondered aloud, as he and Ellen looked at the other items in the box. There was another ticket, this time to a river boat tour, and other items that pointed to only one thing – they were mementos of a relationship.

  “Looks like he had another reason to visit here other than helping out his aunt with repairs,” Andy said.

  “And where there's love there's passion...” Ellen replied, knowing that many crimes were caused by feelings that sprung from the heart.

  Unfortunately, this box was a little disheartening for Ellen since its random collection of items suggested perhaps there was no greater significance to the Napoleon figurine after all. Yet it did reap a great reward as, soon enough, they found a sketch of Gary buried at the bottom of the box and it was signed by Diana. Since there were only three Dianas in town and two of them were soaring in through their seventies, it was a simple process of elimination to go to her shop run by the third one.

  Diana Malone never would have won any beauty pageants and for most of her life had been considered rather plain by most people, but she was by no means unattractive. It seemed from the box that she and Gary had shared some intimate feelings. She owned a small store that sold craft supplies and when Andy and Ellen walked in they were the only people in the store, aside from her. Diana greeted them cordially. Ellen and Andy knew her in passing but neither of them had spent a great deal of time with her. From the moment they went in Ellen watched her like a hawk, trying to see if Diana showed any signs of guilt or remorse.

  “Did you hear the news about the murder?” Andy asked.

  Diana nodded, but she didn't seem visibly upset, although it was difficult to tell if this was a sign of guilt. Losing a loved one is difficult and the grieving process threw normal behavior patterns into chaos.

  “We're trying to find out as much as we can about him. Someone said they thought they saw the two of you together occasionally?”

 

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