Pancakes and Corpses: A Cozy Murder Mystery (Peridale Cafe Mystery Book 1)

by Agatha Frost

  “You realise how incredibly stupid it was to visit a crime scene?” Barker said, drumming his fingers on the written statement he had taken. “You could have put yourself in danger.”

  “I wasn’t thinking,” Julia said, bowing her head.

  “Who was that woman?”

  “I don’t know,” Julia lied.

  “Why do you care so much about solving this case?”

  Julia stopped herself from telling him it was because she wanted to outsmart him and prove some unspoken theory that he was wrongly underestimating her, but she knew it was more than that.

  “I know you suspect my friend, Roxy Carter, of murdering Gertrude, and I want to prove that she didn’t.”

  “She’s the most obvious suspect we have at this time.”

  “And sometimes self-raising flour is the most obvious choice for a cake but it doesn’t mean it’s going to give you the best results.”

  Barker smirked at her baking analogy, but it wasn’t the usual smirk, it was a softer one that was filled with an ounce more compassion than usual.

  “You really love all of that baking stuff, don’t you?” Barker asked, sounding genuinely interested.

  “It’s my life.”

  Julia realised how pathetic that might have sounded, but it was true. She had baking, her café, Mowgli, and her friends and family, which was why she needed to find out the truth about Roxy Carter, innocent or guilty.

  “Who do you think murdered her?” The same genuine interest was present again.

  “I don’t think it’s that simple,” Julia said. “We’re missing vital pieces of the recipe for the murder.”

  “Not everything is about baking.”

  “For a simple sponge cake you need flour, eggs, butter and sugar, all in equal quantities,” she said, already feeling like Barker was losing his interest. “For a murder, you need a victim, a weapon, the means and a motive.”

  “And a murderer,” Barker added, the smugness returning.

  “The cake is the result of the ingredients, as is the murderer.” Julia smiled, proud of herself. “We have the victim and the weapon, Gertrude and the knife. We even have the means, that she was alone in her cottage in her study, presumably trying to change her will, from what I gathered from your notes. The only thing we don’t have is the motive.”

  She realised what she had seen in Violet’s photographs would give Roxy the perfect motive, but that was another piece of information she would keep until she spoke to Roxy.

  “Since you’ve come this far, I might as well tell you Gertrude called her lawyer the afternoon of her death to change her will and disinherit her son.” Barker said without pausing for breath. “She arranged a meeting for first thing on Monday morning, but as we know, she never made it.”

  “Disinherit William?” Julia mumbled almost to herself. “Why would a mother disinherit her own son?”

  “I have no idea, but that’s what I want to find out, because I think that’s the motive right there. This is classified! You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Barker paused and scratched at the back of his head. Julia was certain she noticed a slight blush forming on his cheeks.

  “Because I trust you to keep quiet,” Barker said, appearing to choose his words carefully. “You don’t seem as interested in gossip as the others.”

  Julia was surprisingly touched. Knowing she had earned a pinch of Barker’s trust made her chest flutter more than she had expected. Trying not to focus on the fluttering, she turned her thoughts to William, and she racked her brain for everything she knew about William, but her knowledge was sparse. She knew he was an only child, and that his relationship with his mother was frosty. He was a banker in the city, but he travelled back to the village on occasion to visit his mother. She had seen him speeding past her café more than once in his sports car, with the window down and a cigarette in his hand. He had once come into her café, glanced at the menu, pulled a face, and walked straight out again. The basic information she had didn’t paint a very nice picture, but did it make him a murderer?

  A knock at the door derailed her train of thought and a young female constable popped her head into the interview room.

  “DI, there’s a visitor for Julia at the front desk,” Sarah said, sending a sympathetic smile in Julia’s direction. “It’s her sister, Sue.”

  “I’m in the middle of an interview.”

  “She doesn’t want to see her, she just wanted me to pass this through.” Sarah produced the cake box Julia had requested her sister bring during her one phone call, and she was delighted it had made it past the front desk.

  Sarah placed the box on the table and hurried out of the interview room, leaving Barker to peel back the lid with an amused look flooding his sharp features.

  “It’s a double chocolate fudge cake,” Julia said, peering inside at the perfect cake that had been chilling in her fridge. “I bake when I’m stressed, so I made it last night.”

  “And you used your one phone call to call your sister to bring it here, and not to call a lawyer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I doubted you’d had much time to eat since that scone this morning,” Julia said. “What with you solving a murder case and all.”

  They both shared a smile for a moment and for the first time, it felt like their humour was on the same page. Julia knew the effect her baking had on people, so she was glad to see it having that desired effect.

  “That’s very kind of you,” Barker said softly. “And you’re right, I haven’t eaten since that scone this morning. I didn’t think anything would compare.”

  Julia was touched by the compliment, which he delivered without a hint of irony or sarcasm. He ran his finger along the glossy icing and dropped it into his mouth.

  “Wow,” he said. “How did you know chocolate cake was my favourite?”

  “Lucky guess.”

  “Did you hope you could feed me up so I would drop the charges?”

  “I would never,” Julia said, faking an offended gasp. “Did it work?”

  “Oh, I was never going to put you through the system,” Barker said with a casual shrug as he took another mouthful of the icing. “I just wanted to scare you.”

  “But you took a statement. You wrote four pages.”

  “All part of the experience. Did it work?”

  “Maybe,” she admitted. “A little.”

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re the murderer, but I need you to promise me you’re going to stay out of this investigation and leave it to the professionals.”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s not the same as a promise,” Barker said in a low voice, leaning across the table.

  “Promise.”

  Her words seemed to satisfy Barker, even if her fingers were crossed under the table. She didn’t like the thought that she was lying to a man she had just mentally upgraded from an enemy to an acquaintance, but if she didn’t want to see Roxy Carter behind bars, it was what she needed to do.

  “Do you know anything else?” Barker asked after he finished his second slice of chocolate cake. “Any last words before I let you go?”

  “That depends,” Julia said. “What do I get in return?”

  Barker smirked and leaned across the table.

  “What do you want?” He asked darkly.

  Julia leaned across the table and smiled tenderly at him for a second before saying, “Information about Amy Clark.”

  Barker Brown switched back to Detective Inspector mode, darted back in his chair, and assessed Julia from across the table. She wondered if she had undone the progress her baking had done, or if he was considering what she had just said.

  “I have some information on Amy Clark,” he said casually, glancing over to the door. “But it depends what you’ve got for me.”

  Julia thought about the photographs, wondering if she could give the DI some
useful information without putting Roxy even more in the frame.

  “Check Gertrude’s bank account for suspicious transactions,” Julia said carefully. “I have a feeling she was blackmailing one or more villagers.”

  “Is this just a hunch?” He asked, his brow arching.

  “Yes, but a good one. Amy Clark admitted to being at Gertrude’s cottage where she overheard a conversation between William and his mother in which he called her selfish. It is common village knowledge that Amy and Gertrude are sworn enemies, so they wouldn’t be meeting up for tea and biscuits.”

  “Is that all you’re basing this on?”

  “Just check,” she said firmly. “Follow the money back. It might lead you to the murderer, it might not, but it’s information.”

  Barker Brown evaluated what she had said for what felt like a lifetime, as he tried to decide if what she had told him was useful or not. Julia knew there was a possibility he was going to take her information and not share what he knew about Amy Clark; she couldn’t blame him if he did.

  “Amy Clark has a criminal record,” Barker said. “I’m only telling you this because I think it might link to what you’ve just told me. I had lunch with Roxy’s mother and sister to try and get some information and they mentioned Amy’s rivalry with Gertrude so I did a little digging and I found some pretty dark stuff from her past.”

  “How dark?” Julia found herself leaning in without even realising.

  “Amy did twelve years in prison for assisting in a bank robbery back in the seventies.” Barker said quietly. “And now that you’ve told me about possible blackmail, I have to consider that Gertrude knew about Amy’s criminal past and was using it against her. All of this is public record, but it’s a case of joining up the dots.”

  Julia didn’t know what she had been expecting, but she hadn’t been expecting something so huge. She felt a couple more of the pieces slot into place and she was happy somebody else was in Barker’s mind other than Roxy.

  When Barker finally let her go with another warning to stay out of trouble, she left him alone with the double chocolate fudge cake and set off home. On her walk up the lane, she spotted a hooded figure sitting on the stone wall outside her cottage. Julia wasn’t scared or surprised to see Violet there.

  “You were an easy woman to track,” Violet said. “Easier than Roxy. You saw the photographs?”

  “I did.”

  “So you know that me and Roxy are lovers.” Violet said, bowing her head.

  “I figured that part out, yes.” Julia sat on the wall next to Violet. “Was Gertrude blackmailing Roxy about those photographs?”

  Violet nodded and started crying.

  “That horrible woman was taking pictures of the church and Roxy was visiting her father’s grave. She was upset, so I put my arms around her and I kissed her. We promised each other we would keep our relationship a secret. Roxy was so scared of a scandal at school and we were scared of losing our jobs, the one thing she loved the most. Gertrude got the pictures by accident, but the next day, she arrived at Roxy’s house with them and told Roxy if she didn’t pay her five hundred pounds a week, she would send the pictures to the head teacher.”

  “Why would she do that?” Julia mumbled, staring into the dark.

  “Because she was the devil, and I’m glad she was murdered, but I promise you Julia, it wasn’t me or Roxy.”

  “It’s okay,” Julia wrapped an arm around Violet’s shoulder and squeezed tight. “Who you love shouldn’t be a crime.”

  “Even if we were a man and woman, Roxy is my superior and my mentor,” Violet said, holding back the tears. “We would both lose our jobs either way. We tried to end things, but we couldn’t.”

  Violet started crying properly and Julia’s heart broke for them both. Any sympathy she felt for the smiling, youthful version of Gertrude on the cover of The Peridale Post vanished in an instant.

  Julia invited Violet inside for a cup of tea but she declined. They parted ways, and after Julia fed Mowgli, she crawled into bed with her notepad. She put a line through Violet’s name and three question marks above Roxy’s. She needed to find Roxy before it was too late.

  She flipped the page and added ‘blackmail’ under the note about the change of the will, along with Roxy and Amy’s name in brackets. Julia would have put her life savings on Gertrude blackmailing more than just the two of them.

  Julia closed the notepad and rested it on her nightstand. She flicked off the lamp and slid into her soft, satin covers. The second her head rested on the pillow, she knew she was in for her best night’s sleep since before the murder. Her last thought before she drifted off was if Barker had finished the rest of the chocolate cake.

  Julia was more than happy to see more of her regular customers’ faces on Tuesday. She didn’t realise how much she enjoyed her café being part of their lives and their routines until it wasn’t. Julia had almost forgotten all about the review until she saw a copy of the newspaper clutched in Rachel Carter’s hands when she came into the café during a quiet period after lunch.

  Rachel pulled out a chair at the table nearest to the counter, and Julia got to work making her usual vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso. Rachel was the only customer, so Julia took advantage of the moment and decided to take a break. She made herself a cup of peppermint and liquorice tea and sat across from Rachel.

  “You too,” Rachel said, pointing at the review. “I thought I’d never work again, but it turns out people in this village are rather forgiving.”

  “Still doesn’t feel nice, does it?”

  Rachel closed the newspaper and sipped her latte. Julia noticed the slight purple smudges under her eyes.

  “At least Gertrude can’t spread more of her poison,” Rachel said after taking another sip. “You’re not just a master of cakes, Julia. Your coffee is the best I’ve ever had too.”

  Julia smiled and the compliment almost blindsided her from what Rachel had just said.

  “How do you know it was Gertrude?” Julia asked as she sipped her hot tea.

  “I figured it out,” Rachel said with a small laugh. “Piston? Hardly subtle, is it? And besides, there aren’t many people in the village who were as wicked as that woman.”

  Julia couldn’t disagree with that. After finding out that Gertrude had been blackmailing Roxy for five hundred pounds a week, Julia had run out of excuses not to agree with all of the nasty things people were saying about her. Julia knew if Gertrude hadn’t been murdered, she probably would have forgiven her for the review and kept serving her pancakes, but that was the type of woman Julia was. She doubted Rachel would have been so quick to let Gertrude step foot in her gallery.

  “I had an ulterior motive for coming here, aside from your excellent coffee,” Rachel said, leaning in and lowering her voice. “I’m beginning to really worry about Roxy’s disappearance. I can’t help but think the police are trying to pin this on her, and the longer she stays away, the easier that’s going to be.”

  “I have a feeling the police might be looking in other places at the moment.”

  “Oh?” Rachel seemed genuinely surprised. “Where?”

  “Amy Clark and William Smith,” Julia said quietly. “I think Gertrude was blackmailing Amy, and Amy swears she heard William arguing with his mother the morning of her murder. It wasn’t just your sister who was on Gertrude’s bad side.”

  “Blackmail?” Rachel asked, not sounding at all surprised. “Did you manage to find Violet?”

  “I did.”

  “So I assume you know?” Rachel said, sipping her latte again. “About the true nature of their relationship?”

  “You knew?”

  “Of course I knew,” Rachel said, sounding a little amused. “Roxy is my sister. She confided in me about everything, including Gertrude blackmailing her. I only found that out on the day of the murder. When Roxy came to my gallery, she asked me for money, saying Gertrude was blackmailing her, and that she had exhausted her small pot of savin
gs. I was quite shocked.”

  Julia listened but she didn’t react. She sipped her peppermint and liquorice tea as she noticed the sudden change in Rachel’s story about that conversation. Julia could have sworn Rachel had said Roxy was babbling incoherently when she visited the gallery. She decided against mentioning the inconsistencies.

  “What time did you say you went to Roxy’s cottage?” Julia asked, diverting the conversation.

  “About six,” Rachel said. “Maybe a little after. It was after I closed the gallery. Why?”

  “I’m just trying to establish a timeframe. By the time I got to the cottage, it was about quarter to six. Roxy’s cottage is on the other side of the village, which means there was no way she could have gone home, packed and vanished before you got there.”

  “Unless she packed her things before?” Rachel added.

  Julia sipped her tea again, trying not to react. Despite Rachel’s worries that the police were trying to pin the murder on her sister, she didn’t sound as though she fully believed her innocence.

  The conversation quickly switched to idle village gossip before Rachel finished her latte and left the café, leaving behind her copy of The Peridale Post, which Julia tossed straight into the bin.

  She was only alone in her café for less than a minute when a sports car pulled up outside, its brakes screeching as it slammed to a halt. William Smith jumped out and headed straight for Julia’s café, and from the stern expression on his face, he didn’t look like he wanted a cup of tea and a friendly chat.

  William was a tall, slender man who looked to be in his mid-forties. He still had a thick head of hair, which was suspiciously absent of grey hairs, and his face was handsome and clean-shaven. His pale grey suit looked to be designer, as did the chunky gold watch on his wrist.

  “Julia South,” William said coldly as he opened the door. “I want a word with you.”

  Julia straightened her back and put both of her hands on the counter. William’s face was full of anger and rage, but Julia was determined not to match that.

  “Can I help you?” she asked. “Perhaps a cake, or a nice cup of coffee?”