Amanda Cadabra and The Hidden Depths

by Holly Bell

‘Ready.’ She closed her eyes and was back again on the shelf in the stacks … Picked up, flicked through. A face framed in the long dark wavy hair … Samantha … moving around the stacks … Onto a shelf … back off … moving … a soft chuckle and then … being wrapped in an outer coat of thick glossy printed paper ... back onto a shelf …

  Voices … Samantha’s and a man’s too distant to identify … Whispers … murmurs … taunting … laughing … cajoling … Now the tones were changing: threatening … anger … fear … footsteps … running … More footsteps coming this way… breathless … The girl right there … a man … A great tome whooshing through the air … a gasp and sound of body falling … Anguish … and then the tipping … tipping, falling … the book jacket flying off … crushed …

  Silence. Then footsteps … Light … I know those feet … hurrying … a face … I know that face … it’s …

  ‘It’s mine,’ murmured Amanda, opening her eyes, shuddering. ‘I think I know what happened.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘There must be a loose jacket among the books. Samantha put the journal in the paper cover of another book and put it on the shelf in plain sight. Then a man came, but they must have been talking in another aisle, because I couldn’t see them or hear them, only whispers. Then it sounded like Samantha was laughing, like she thought it was a game. Her words, ‘in here somewhere,’ then a few moments later ‘you will pay’. But then it all went pear-shaped. It got heated, angry, and then there was running. I think she was running from him, only he caught up with her and hit her with a big book. Maybe he didn’t mean to kill her. Once he saw she was dead, he covered his tracks by pulling the shelves down.’

  ‘Did you catch any sight of him?’ asked Trelawney.

  ‘No, he was too far off to the side. I could only see Samantha,’ Amanda replied apologetically.

  ‘That’s all right. So … after he’d done the business with the shelves, he must have hidden down here, waiting for a chance to get out of the library.’

  ‘But then I came down. I recognised myself. To get Mrs Entwhistle’s book,’ explained Amanda.

  ‘And he was trapped. But he did leave eventually and unseen. Unfortunately the neighbours opposite or near the library, were either out or at the party.’

  Amanda shook her head sorrowfully. ‘How dreadful to think of a book as a murder weapon.’

  ‘The most innocent of objects can be used to harm if applied with sufficient force in the right place.’

  ‘Especially if the person knows what the right place would be. This one either did or was just lucky – or unlucky, if he didn’t intend the blow to be fatal.’

  She picked up her cup and drank some of the reviving liquid. Trelawney waited, then put the hopeful question,

  ‘Any clues at all as to his identity?’

  ‘Sorry, it was just whispers and footfalls. But how did Samantha know who he was?’

  ‘How did Miss Gibbs get any of her information?’

  Amanda helped herself to a gingernut and considered.

  ‘People. Pamela and Simon both said she could be a good listener.’

  ‘Precisely,’ agreed the inspector. ‘So, the question is … whom did she date after Ainsley Storridge disappeared?’

  She sat up at that, her spark rekindled. ‘I bet I know. The man the papers called Lord Vigo or something. Storridge must have told Samantha something important to do with him. Something that was relevant to the trip. So Sam went to the source.’

  ‘What did she find out? Yes, it had to have been something that was connected to Storridge’s death or, at least, his expedition. Something Vigo hadn’t shared with the police. Therefore something that would do him no credit, or could even get him into trouble.’ Trelawney stood up. ‘I have to get this man to talk to me. I think he knows our killer. But will he talk? That’s the question. Miss Cadabra, thank you. I will see you later.’

  ‘Inspector, I can’t just sit here,’ Amanda protested, also getting to her feet. ‘Look, I’ve got an idea. Dale used to be in tourism. He was never in South America, but he might know people who were working as guides there at the time. Surely he’d use his connections to help us, make some calls, give us some suggestions. I could just pop round to the flower shop and ask. You never know. We have so little time.’

  ‘Well …’ Trelawney was reluctant to have Amanda any more involved that she had been already.

  She added persuasively, ‘I know it’s a long shot and it’s probably like meeting someone from Australia and saying, ‘Oh, you must know John!’ But it’s worth a go, don’t you think, Inspector?’

  He relented. ‘Fine, yes, go ahead. Send me a text if you get anything helpful.’

  ‘Will do,’ Amanda promised.

  Chapter 39

  Shop Talk

  As Trelawney drove off, Amanda reached for her phone and dialled.

  ‘Dale?’

  ‘Amanda? How nice. I was just thinking about you.’

  ‘Ah good, well, would it be OK to drop round? The inspector and I are hoping you can help with the case.’

  ‘Of course. Will the inspector be giving us the pleasure of his company too?’

  ‘No, he’s making enquiries elsewhere.’

  ‘Hm? … Excuse me. Just a sec.’ A muffled voice sounded in the background for a couple of minutes, followed by, ‘Yes, that’s fine. Mother is sure you’re not looking after yourself, so there’ll be a treat waiting for you. Fifteen minutes?’

  ‘Lovely.’

  ‘See you soon, Amanda.’

  ***

  Trelawney pulled over and reached for his phone.

  ‘Mike?’

  ‘Here, lad.’

  ‘I need clout. Serious clout.’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Lord Vigo — to keep his name off the record.’

  ‘Yes?’

  “I think he’s got the goods. What I need to crack this case. Samantha Gibbs got the identity of the guide from him. I feel it in my bones.’

  ‘Good enough.’

  ‘I need him to talk to me. I thought we could meet at the Asthma Centre. He’s a sponsor, nothing untoward about his turning up there. I’ll get us a quiet space.’

  ‘Nice choice.’

  ‘I need him there immediately. Can you get the request to come from the right place, Mike?’

  ‘Give me five, Thomas. I’ll call you back.’

  The time ticked by as Trelawney leaned his head back and rehearsed how he would greet and question the man.

  It was more like ten minutes when Hogarth rang back.

  ‘I got Maxwell on side. Vigo is already at the Centre in confab with Gibbs, it seems. And not for the first time.’

  ‘Good grief.’

  ‘Yes, who knows what else they may have collaborated in?’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘Yes. Look Thomas, this has to be strictly off the record. Every word he says. The press called him Lord Vigo after a heavy metal band because he’s a big noise in the City. Take him seriously. If he turns out to be the murderer, tread extremely carefully; call Maxwell. Don’t make the arrest, whatever you do.’

  ‘Understood. Is he expecting me?’

  ‘Yes, he’ll be in the boardroom.’

  ‘Good. On my way.’ Thomas looked at the time. One hour and 40 minutes to go until the arrest must be made.

  ***

  As Amanda put on her coat and shoes, Tempest uncoiled his furry bulk and jumped from the comfort of the sofa.

  ‘Coming?’ she asked him. Then with a laugh, ‘I suppose you heard the word “treat”!’

  Dale was outside the shop, collecting a spray of white carnations when Amanda arrived.

  ‘Right on time,’ he greeted her, with a welcoming smile. ‘We’ve just got a couple of orders to finish off. Mother is doing the other one.’

  ‘That’s fine. I know I’m interrupting your working day. I won’t need long though.’

 
; ‘No, no, it’s quite all right. We’re more than happy to take a break. Do go in and make yourself at home.’

  Tempest infiltrated the large containers of plants, disappearing from view. Amanda seated herself at the white-painted, wrought iron table, where customers could wait for their flowers to be gathered, arranged and wrapped. Dale hurried into the kitchen behind the shop.

  Amanda was anxious to cut to the chase. Nevertheless, she was also mindful of the fact that he was taking time off to talk to her and had gone to no little trouble to make it a pleasant experience. And it wasn’t like she had anything else to do that could help with the investigation. She’d read the journal from cover to cover twice, for all the good it had done. There was just that one phrase: Nans Breha. Strange how that should come to her mind now. It was like a seed under the desert sand, receiving that rare rain … cracking open ….

  She heard a murmured chat with Mrs Hilland, before the lady issued forth.

  ‘Hello, Amanda!’

  ‘Hello, Mrs —’

  ‘Gillian, remember,’ said the woman shaking a playful finger, ‘Gillian.’

  ‘Of course. I hope you don’t mind my asking Dale for a few minutes of his time.’

  ‘Anything to help, my dear.’ She down at the table, ‘I understand he’s been telling you about his adventures. Oh yes, he’s a brave boy. Been all over the world. On every continent of the globe, has my Daley,’ Gillian added proudly.

  There it was again. That feeling … that seed … the green shoot just peeping over the shell. Nans Breha. Valley Arm … no … no, that wasn’t right … and there was something wrong with what the woman had just said ….

  ‘Really?’ Amanda responded, with distracted politeness. Then recalling herself asked, ‘Have you travelled much with your son?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve travelled quite extensively, of course, as one does, but I’m more of a homebody at heart.’

  ‘Here we are!’ Dale came in with the tea tray carrying rose-patterned China cups and saucers, milk jug and bowl of sugar cubes. ‘Something to be going on with, while I finish off the bouquet and the treat.’

  ‘Thank you,’ responded Amanda. ‘Oh, I know something I’ve long wanted to ask you, well, both of you. Have you seen the seven wonders of the world, the new list from 2000?’

  ‘Erm …’ Dale hesitated. ‘Remind me. Pyramids? Yes …’

  ‘Coliseum?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Taj Mahal?’

  A phone rang in the back of the shop.

  ‘Er yes ... excuse me,’ said Dale and went to answer it.

  Amanda continued, addressing Gillian, who added three sugar lumps to her tea and took up her cup and saucer:

  ‘Petra?’

  ‘Yes, well Daley has.’

  And again. That niggle. Nans … valley … Breha … ha ... What if it was ‘Bre’ and ‘ha’ ...? Amanda had paused and Gillian was looking at her expectantly, taking a sip of her tea.

  Amanda hastily said the next place that came into her head ‘Erm … Machu Picchu?’

  ‘Oh course he has!’ she replied with delight.

  No, thought Amanda. That was wrong. Machu Picchu was in a place he said he’d never been: South America. Still, perhaps he’d been there only as a tourist and thought it didn’t count. They had been talking about his work after all, hadn’t they?

  ‘What was that like for him?’ she asked. ‘Pretty tame I expect.’

  ‘Here we are!’ The man himself entered carrying a small tray of three glass ramekins.

  Amanda clapped her hands. ‘Oh that looks wonderful, Dale!’

  ‘Just something I threw together. Quick choc pud topped with strawberries and a drizzle of coconut cream. Oh yes, I remembered your asthma, Amanda. No dairy.’

  ‘How thoughtful.’

  ‘It’s an old family recipe, you know. It includes herbs and spices. See if you like it. Here’s a spoon.’

  Chapter 40

  Race

  Trelawney passed friendly staff on his way through the Centre. There was no sign of Gibbs. The boardroom had but a single occupant.

  ‘Sir, thank you for seeing me.’

  ‘Well …’ replied Vigo as they shook hands. ‘Very awkward.’

  ‘This is all strictly off the record, sir.’

  ‘Yes, well … What do you want to know?’

  The inspector came straight to the point.

  ‘Did Miss Gibbs ask you anything about Ashley Storridge’s expedition to Ecuador?’

  ‘Yes,’ Vigo replied frankly. ‘The long and the short of it is that I told her I gave Storridge the name of the guide who took me to — Not a matter that I would want to come to light.’

  ‘Please go on, sir.’

  ‘I needed a guide for a … an off-the-map … out-of-bounds destination. In Brazil. No one would do it until a contact of a contact spoke to this chap. He was under an exclusive contract to a particular company so he’d be moonlighting. The man asked for an exorbitantly high fee, and a … a false passport.’

  ‘And you were able to comply?’ Trelawney enquired delicately.

  ‘I was … in a position to meet his terms.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. His real name?’

  ‘I never knew it. But later I gave his phone number to Storridge, who asked for a recommendation as a favour. It was all strictly hush-hush, you understand.’

  ‘I do, sir. So, you told Miss Gibbs this? Did you give her any more information that could have led to her being able to identify the man?’

  ‘Hmm… not gave her; I found her looking through the photos on my phone. There was one, just one that I took of the chap when he was unawares. Oh, just as a bit of a curiosity, you know. And partly because he’d insisted on no photos. It was just for my own memorabilia, so to speak. But I don’t know if it was any good. If she was able to recognise anyone from it.’

  ‘May I see it, sir? No one else need know that you took it.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Vigo searched his phone. He was warming up now. Somehow Trelawney was making him feel more part of the investigation than an embarrassed suspect. The inspector put another question while the man busied himself with his photo gallery:

  ‘Can you recall anything else about him? Height?’

  ‘On the tall side of medium, I suppose you’d say.’

  ‘Age?’

  ‘Late thirties? Hard to tell … Here. See?’

  He handed the phone to Trelawney, gesturing.

  ‘Under all that black hair, beard, walnut skin, could be anyone, I’d have thought. Blue eyes, mind. Quite startling. Nice chap, you know, and a finer guide I could not have a wished for. No need to tell you how many narrow scrapes we had. A fine time though,’ he added with a touch of mischief.

  Trelawney examined the image with the detective’s eye … Take away the beard, shorten the hair … try the skin in different shades … change the colour of the hair … No, Samantha would not have known him then … but later … when she came to Sunken Madley … Not for nothing was she a fashion aficionado, with an eye for detail, the look, the makeover possibilities. She would have seen him, and the penny dropped.

  Thomas’s distracted gaze strayed to the large ceramic bowl of water on the table: a centrepiece with five floating flower-shaped tealights. In a patch of candle-free surface, Thomas saw it: a muffin-shaped cake with a skull and crossbones on it.

  At once, the inspector broke into rapid speech.

  ‘Sir, your help has been invaluable. Please excuse me, I must leave immediately.’

  ‘Oh. Yes of course … Glad to have …’

  Trelawney ran through the Centre into the car park towards the Mondeo.

  ‘What the …?’

  He had parked in haste, and now there was a Royal Mail van blocking him in. He ran back into reception, where Bill was in conversation with the lady on the desk.

  ‘Bill, where’s the delivery driver?’

  ‘Ah, Pavel. He m
ust be inside.’

  ‘I need him to move his van. Find him now!’

  ‘Yes, sir. Maureen, call the most likely places. Get Pavel out here, on the double.’

  Trelawney got on his phone.

  ‘Baker, where are you?’

  ‘Coming back across town, sir.’

  ‘How far away from the village?’

  ‘Ten minutes, maybe.’

  ‘Where is Nikolaides?’

  ‘Madley Towers interviewing Ford and Bail—’

  Trelawney interrupted and gave instructions of exactly where to meet him.

  ‘Shall I get back up?’

  ‘Yes, but no one goes in. We may have a hostage situation.’

  ***

  Amanda leaned forward to pick up her ramekin from the tray. Tempest, however, chose that moment to hop onto her lap, purring loudly.

  ‘Oo, there you are, Mr Fluffikins,’ said Amanda fondly, cuddling and stroking him. ‘Come to say hello?’

  He directed his citrine glare at the Hillands.

  ‘How is your work going? The piano making progress?’ asked Dale.

  ‘Slowly.’

  ‘Got any in-progress snaps?’

  ‘Yes, I have as a matter of fact,’ replied Amanda surprised. She took them just for her own records and marketing, and it was rare that anyone else asked to see them. She was rather pleased. Amanda took out her mobile and brought up the photos.

  ‘Oh my word,’ said Dale. ‘May I?’ he asked, taking the phone and zooming in to get a closer look. ‘It really was badly damaged.’ He got up and strolled to the shop entrance. Still inspecting the images, he turned the sign to “Closed” and locked the door.

  There was that feeling again … the green shoots were wriggling upwards through the sand. Valley … Nans …

  He looked up and smiled.

  ‘That’s cosier, isn’t it? Now we shan’t be disturbed.’

  ‘Oh Dale!’ said his mother, putting a hand to her forehead. ‘I do feel ever so strange. I have such a headache.’