by Adele Abbott
“Great. Thanks again.”
***
It was time to pay another visit to Rob Evans’ house in Middle Tweaking. I was hoping to catch his girlfriend, Sydney, to confront her about the text message that had been found on Rob’s phone.
“You again?”
She was clearly pleased to see me.
“I just have a couple more questions for you.”
“I’m busy.”
“It’ll only take a minute.”
“I’m supposed to meet Mazza in Washbridge. The bus is in five minutes, and they only run every couple of hours.”
“How about I give you a lift there? We can talk as I drive.”
She considered it for a moment. “Okay, then, but you’ll have to wait while I get changed.”
“No problem.” I was about to follow her into the house when she slammed the door in my face. Presumably, that was her way of telling me to wait outside.
“Hello there!” The man’s voice startled me. “What brings you back to the village?”
“Hi.” I couldn’t place him at first, but then the smell of fish hit me. “It’s Brendan, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed. I must apologise for my behaviour the last time you were here. I’d been going through a bit of a rough patch.”
Brendan Breeze was the village fishmonger. Myrtle and I had spoken to him about Madge Hick’s murder. At the time, he’d been in something of a depression because Madge was an old flame of his. Brendan had berated himself for dumping Madge in favour of a younger model, Suzy, who had subsequently walked out on him.
“You look a lot better than the last time I saw you, Brendan.”
“I am, and it’s all down to Carmen; she’s my new lady friend. We met online.”
“Nice. Which dating web site did you use?”
“Plenty of Fishmongers.”
“I take it she’s in the same line of business?”
“Yes. Her parents were both fishmongers too.”
“That’s great.”
“Are we going, then?” Sydney was back. “I don’t want to be late.”
“I’m coming. Nice to see you again, Brendan.”
“Mazza reckons they’ve got a sale on makeup at Luvface,” Sydney informed me, as we drove towards Washbridge.
“Nice.”
“I suppose you need a lot of makeup at your age, don’t you?”
Where was the ejector seat when you needed one?
“I wanted to ask you about the message you sent to Rob on the day he was murdered.”
“I didn’t send no message. I told you—my phone went missing that day.”
“That’s what you said, but I’ve seen Rob’s phone records, and there was a message from you about an hour after he left The Boomerang.”
“There can’t have been. I didn’t have my phone.”
“Do you mind if I check it for myself?”
“Help yourself.” She took it from her handbag. “You won’t find anything.”
I pulled into a layby, took the phone from her and scrolled through the messages. “What about this one?” I held it out for her to see.
“I didn’t send that!”
“Well someone did.”
It read: Let’s trash Turtle’s place. Meet me there in five minutes.
She snatched the phone back, and double-checked the message. “It wasn’t me who sent that. I’d lost my phone that day. Just ask Mazza.”
“Okay, I will. Let’s go and talk to her.”
After I’d parked the car, I followed Sydney to LuvFace, a small shop in the trendier part of town. As you might imagine, that was not an area I was particularly well acquainted with.
The young woman waiting outside LuvFace looked like she’d spent the last hour sampling every product that the shop had to offer.
“Hi, babes.” She air-kissed Sydney, and then looked at me as though I was a creature from outer space.
“Tell her I lost my phone, Mazza.”
“What, babes?”
“The day that Rob got done. I’d lost my phone, hadn’t I? Do you remember? I told you when you came around to my place in the evening.”
“Yeah, I remember now. Syd was really cut up about it. She couldn’t check her Instagram or anything.” Mazza looked me up and down again. “You probably don’t even know what Instagram is, do you?”
“I do, actually.”
“We’re going now.” Sydney grabbed Mazza’s arm. “They’ll have sold out of all the good stuff soon.”
“One last question. Where and when did you find your phone?”
“My aunt found it the next morning. It was in the house somewhere.”
“In her house? Had you been to visit her?”
“No, I live there. My dad took off before I was born, and my mum died when I was a toddler. My aunt brought me up.”
“So when you said you were at home the day that Rob was murdered, you were at your aunt’s place?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it? You can check with her if you like.”
“Fred’s really cool,” Mazza said. “I wish my parents were like her.”
“Fred? I thought you said it was your aunt?”
“She is my aunt, but I’ve always called her Fred.” Sydney turned her back to me to indicate we were done.
I didn’t mind that she’d rushed off because, at long last, I thought I might have caught a break on Myrtle’s case.
Chapter 23
After I’d run some checks to confirm my hunch about Sydney’s aunt, I went back to the car, and was about to drive to ‘Fred’s’ when my phone rang. It was Ms Nightingale from CASS.
“Morning, Ms Nightingale. No more problems with the airship, I hope?”
“No. I’m pleased to report that everything has been plain sailing since you intervened. You’re due to give a lesson here tomorrow, I believe?”
“Err? Yes, that’s right.” Oh bum! I’d forgotten all about that. I really would have to get more organised with my diary—as in buy one!
“I wondered if you might be able to spare me some time after you’ve finished teaching for the day?”
“Of course. Can you give me some idea of what it’s about?”
“It’s a rather delicate matter that I’d prefer not to discuss over the phone.”
“I understand. Shall I pop by your office when I’m done in class?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I was intrigued. What could the headmistress want to talk to me about that she didn’t feel she could discuss over the phone? I’d heard rumours that she was going to retire—could that be it?
“Hello again?” Freda Bowling looked surprised to see me. Thankfully, she didn’t have the two curlers in her hair to distract me this time. “I wasn’t expecting you, was I?”
“No. I’m sorry to turn up out of the blue, but I wondered if you might spare me a few minutes?”
“Of course. Come in. Can I get you a drink?”
“No, thanks. I was wondering, how long did you clean for Myrtle?”
“Just a few weeks.”
“How was the work?”
“It was one of my easier jobs. Myrtle’s house was pretty much spotless, even before I started work. Not like some of the places I go to. I could tell you stories that would make your toes curl.”
“I’m sure, but when I was last at Myrtles’, I noticed she had a lot of brass ornaments. They must have been a pain to keep clean?”
“She wouldn’t let me clean her ornaments. She said she preferred to do those herself.”
“You didn’t get to clean her collection of pokers, then?”
Freda seemed to flinch—just a little, but she quickly recovered. “No, I never did. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink?”
“Positive. Actually, just before I came here today, I gave your niece a lift to Washbridge.”
“Oh?”
“Sydney is your niece, isn’t she?”
“More like my daughter, really. I brought her up after her mother died.”
“She said she calls you Fred?”
“That’s right. As you can probably imagine, it was a very difficult time when Sydney first came to live with me. She was lost and very confused; she couldn’t understand why her mummy and daddy had left her all alone. I tried to make it as easy as I could for her—I said she could call me whatever she liked: Auntie, Freda, anything. She said she was going to call me Fred, and she has done ever since.”
“You must be very protective towards her?”
Freda sat back in the chair, and said nothing for the longest moment, but then managed, “You know, don’t you? You know I killed him.”
“Yes, but I’d still like you to tell me what happened.”
“I didn’t mean for this to affect Myrtle. I kept hoping they’d realise she couldn’t have done it.”
“I assume you were trying to protect Sydney?”
“Yes. The day she first met that good-for-nothing was the worst day of my life. She’s always been a little wilful; what kid isn’t? But once she got together with that piece of scum, she changed completely. She started drinking heavily and I’m sure she was taking other stuff too. And the way she acted when she was with him—it made me ashamed of her.”
“Did you talk to her about it?”
“Of course I did, but she wouldn’t listen. She thought the sun shone out of his backside. She couldn’t see him for what he was. I was terrified of where it might all end. I kept expecting a call to tell me Sydney had taken an overdose. Or that he’d beaten her up. He was violent, you know.”
“Did you send the text message to Rob from Sydney’s phone?”
“Yes, I knew he’d never come to talk to me. He thought I was a busybody; he’d told Sydney as much. That’s why I came up with the idea of sending him a text from Sydney’s phone. It was easy to get hold of it—she was always leaving it lying around. I had planned to get him to meet me at his house, but when I got there, some of his friends were hanging around outside. I still had the key that Myrtle had given me, so I nipped into her house and sent the message from there. I only wanted to talk to him; to try to make him see reason.” Freda’s laugh sounded hollow. “I should have known better. When I asked him to leave Sydney alone, he laughed in my face. He said he was going to take her back to London with him, and that he’d make sure I never saw her again. Then he lit a joint. I told him he couldn’t smoke that filthy muck in the house, and I practically pushed him out into the garden. The more I pleaded with him, the more he taunted me. And then he said that my darling Sydney wasn’t the ‘good girl’ I thought she was, and he began to say the most awful things about her.”
Freda began to cry.
“Shall I get you a drink?”
“No, thank you, dear. I just need a moment.”
We sat in silence for several minutes before she continued, “I don’t remember picking up the poker or hitting him, but the next thing I knew, he’d fallen into the river.”
“What happened then?”
“It’s all a bit of a blur. I must have caught the bus home, but I don’t remember doing it.”
“What about the poker?”
“I brought it home in my bag, although I don’t recall putting it in there. It’s upstairs on top of my wardrobe. Do you want me to get it for you?”
“No. Leave it there for now.”
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“When you’re ready, I’ll have to call the police.”
“Of course. What about Sydney? Who’ll look after her?”
“She’ll be okay. I know it’s hard to accept, but she’s a woman now.”
“You’re right. I know you are. At least I don’t have to worry about what Evans might do to her. What about Myrtle? I’m so very sorry for what’s happened to her.”
“Myrtle’s a tough cookie. She’ll be just fine. With a bit of luck, she’ll be home before the end of the day.”
I waited with Freda until Rosemary Thorne and another police officer arrived. Once Freda had told Thorne that she’d killed Rob Evans, she was taken out to the car by the constable.
“Be gentle with her,” I said.
“I’ve already told you that I don’t want you interfering in police business,” Thorne snapped.
“I’m not interfering; I’m just asking you to be a little understanding.”
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I told you. I’m working for Myrtle Turtle. You must remember her. She’s the woman you have locked up for a crime she didn’t commit. I assume you’ll expedite her release now?”
“Once we’ve been able to verify Mrs Bowling’s claims, Ms Turtle’s release will be processed by the court.”
“And, I’m sure you’ll want to apologise to her in person.”
“I have to go. You’d better leave too. We’ll need to search this house.”
I started for the door. “Oh, by the way, no thanks are necessary.”
“For what?”
“Doing your job for you.”
***
I had an emergency on my hands.
A custard cream emergency, which as I’m sure you’re already aware, is the very worst kind.
I’d finished my last packet that morning, and I’d been so busy that I’d totally forgotten to buy some while I was in Washbridge. Unforgiveable, I know, but that’s exactly what local convenience stores are there for, so on my way home, I stopped off at The Corner Shop. I was on a mission: Replenish Custard Creams.
But then disaster struck. The shop door was locked and the ‘Closed’ sign was displayed in the window.
Closed? At five o’clock on a Thursday? How could that be possible? I figured it had to be a mistake, so I hammered on the door. After a couple of minutes, there was still no answer, and I was just starting to wonder if I could justify using magic to break and enter when I was startled by a voice from behind me. It was Little Jack.
“You made me jump. Why is the shop closed?”
“I’m very sorry, Jill. Tomorrow is the final of the Corner Shop Stacking Competition. I spent all last night and this morning preparing my stacks, and I daren’t risk anyone knocking them over.”
“Won’t you lose money by closing the shop?”
“Of course, but that will be far outweighed by the prestige if I were to win.”
“But, I’m out of custard creams.”
“We’ll be open again tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s almost twenty-four hours away. I can’t possibly go that long without a custard cream.”
“I suppose I could go inside and get you a packet. As long as you don’t mind waiting here?”
“No problem, but do you think you could possibly make it a couple of packets?”
“Two?”
“I was thinking more like four.”
“Okay. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
Phew! Little Jack had come through for me. It had taken him a while, but as he’d explained, he’d had to weave his way past numerous elaborate displays. He’d only managed to grab three packets, but that should be enough to see me through the current crisis.
I pulled onto my street, and almost crashed the car when I spotted two clowns outside the next-door neighbours’ house. It was Sneezy and Breezy, and they were carrying multi-coloured buckets. At first, I couldn’t work out what they were up to, but then the penny dropped.
“Hi, beautiful.” Jack met me in the hallway, and gave me a peck on the lips. “Have you had a good day?”
“Yeah, pretty good. What about you?”
“Actually, there was a really interesting case I wanted to tell you about. It involved—”
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to take a quick shower. I’m sweltered.”
“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be back down before you know it.” I rushed upstairs.
Fifteen minutes later, and fresh from my shower, I join
ed Jack in the kitchen.
“You knew they were coming here, didn’t you?” He fixed me with his glare.
“Who?”
“Don’t give me that innocent routine of yours. You never go straight up for a shower when you get in from work.”
“I told you; I was all clammy.”
“You saw Jimmy and Kimmy, didn’t you?”
“They prefer to be called Sneezy and Breezy when they’re in costume.”
“There! I knew it! I knew you’d seen them!”
Oh bum! That’s what comes of speaking before engaging brain. “I did see them next door. So what?”
“You knew they were collecting their sponsorship money.”
“Were they?”
“You know very well they were. Do you have any idea how much you’ve cost us?”
“Me? Why is it down to me?”
“You were the one who put our names down for ten pence a laugh.”
“How many laughs did the clownometer register?”
“Eight-hundred and seventy.”
“That’s outrageous! Are you sure they only counted chuckles as half a laugh?”
“How am I supposed to know? It’s not like I can demand an audit, is it?”
“I bet they included smiles too. They weren’t supposed to count those. How much did it come to altogether?”
“Eight-hundred and seventy laughs at ten-pence a laugh is eighty-seven pounds.”
“I ought to claim some of that back from Kathy. She and Lizzie cost us a good proportion of that. Still, it’s for a good cause, I suppose.” I sniffed the air. “That smells good. Is dinner ready yet?”
“You do realise you owe me half of the eighty-seven pounds.”
“Of course, but I’ve hardly got any cash on me. I could draw some out tomorrow—unless, of course, you’ll take payment in kind.” I flashed him my sexiest smile.
“I’d prefer the cold hard cash.”
“You don’t have an ounce of romance in you, do you?”
Chapter 24
I was munching on toast for breakfast.
“Jack, when I got home yesterday, didn’t you start to tell me about an interesting case you’d been working on?”
