Peridale Cafe Mystery 19 - Brownies and Bloodshed

by Agatha Frost

  Julia smiled. “I haven’t seen this side of you in a while.”

  “I’ve been asleep, trying to write about mysteries instead of solving them,” he replied. “I’m awake now.”

  “Welcome back, Detective.”

  Instead of attempting to answer all the questions, they retreated to bed, knowing it wouldn’t be long before the June sun came to wake them. Julia fell asleep in Barker’s arms – and was precisely where she woke up five hours later.

  Her eyes opened at six, and Barker seemed to stir at the same time. Somewhere in the garden, a bird greeted the fresh morning with a delicate song.

  “Nature’s alarm clock,” Barker said, pulling Julia in even tighter, the warmth of his body soothing. “I wish we could just stay in bed all day.”

  “Me too,” Julia replied, suppressing a yawn. “But we won’t.”

  In a silent agreement, they tossed the covers off and climbed out of bed. Julia opened the curtains, grateful for another bright clear sky. Springing out of bed wouldn’t have been so easy in the dead of winter.

  They ventured into the kitchen, which was in the messiest state Julia had ever seen it. Katie had ditched a bucket of dirty nail equipment in the sink; baby bottles and jars of food, some full, some empty, covered every surface; and the continuous mess Katie and Brian made whenever they cooked hadn’t been cleaned up. Soon, they would wake, but like every morning, the kitchen would be tidy by the time they did.

  For their first hour of quiet, Barker made them poached eggs on buttered, wholemeal toast, which they washed down with smooth orange juice; Barker didn’t like the pulp. When everything was washed and put away, and Julia had reclaimed her kitchen, she sensed Barker itching to talk about the dining room wall. Even though it hadn’t come up, Julia could feel a silent agreement about where they both stood regarding the murder; they were itching to investigate.

  “So,” Barker began, leaning against the kitchen sink with a cup of steaming coffee held to his chest, “I’ve been thinking.”

  Julia played along. “About?”

  “My future.”

  Barker sipped his coffee, no doubt to give Julia’s brain time to adjust to the left-field direction he had taken the conversation. She had expected the topic to come up, just not on a morning with more important things to discuss.

  “I was so embarrassed when Thomas asked about my book the night before the wedding.” He slurped more coffee. “You were all scrambling to explain my unemployment while I stood there like a wet lemon.”

  “You needn’t be embarrassed,” Julia reassured him, tickling Mowgli’s head as he rubbed against her shoulder, clearly happy about venturing from his hiding place while the cottage was still serene. “Those publishers used you, and then they threw you away when things got tough. They told you to write about Tony Bridges, and they demanded that you make it a true crime book instead of a fictional reimagining like your debut. The idea might have been yours, but the decision was theirs. It’s not your fault his wife sued them.”

  “I know.” He leaned against the other side of the breakfast bar and stroked Mowgli’s fluffy tail. “I’ve adjusted to losing all of that surprisingly well, I think. But I’m embarrassed about how long I’ve spent doing essentially nothing. It’s been almost two months since I signed the paperwork to get out of the deal, and what have I done since then?”

  “You’ve been resting. You spent so long working on that book, and then they tossed you aside. You deserved to take it easy for a while.”

  “And I have taken it easy.” Barker drained the last of his coffee and put the empty cup in the sink. “And maybe you’re right. Perhaps I needed that time to adjust mentally, but I’m ready to get back out there. This is the longest I’ve done absolutely nothing since – well, since forever. I went straight from school to college to university to the police force, and then into writing. I’m not used to doing so little. I feel useless.”

  “You could never be useless.”

  “But I’ve been feeling it,” Barker said, his smile tinged with sadness. “Like I said last night, I’ve been asleep, and this murder woke me up. I think I’ve decided what I want to do with my future.”

  Before Julia could ask, Vinnie’s cries stirred from the guest bedroom. They started low and soft, but it wasn’t long before they became loud and shrill enough to send Mowgli scrambling for the bedroom. Julia heard Katie and her father groan, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until they emerged from the tiny guest room to once again take over the cottage.

  “Well, it was nice while it lasted,” Barker said, washing his cup in the sink and adding it to the draining board. “We can pick up our conversation the next time we’re alone.”

  The guest bedroom door opened and screaming greeted them as Katie shuffled in with Vinnie on her hip. She yawned, seemingly oblivious to the sound coming from her small child.

  “Morning,” Katie groaned like she did every morning before planting Vinnie in his highchair at the end of the breakfast bar.

  “Morning,” they replied.

  While Katie got to work messing up the kitchen again, Julia got ready for the day ahead. Mondays were usually the quietest day in her café unless something gossip-worthy had happened. Considering the pleasant weather and her deep connection to the source of the gossip, she expected a full café from the moment she opened the door. Despite the previous night’s hot bath, she had a shower in an attempt to wake up. Dripping wet, she stood in front of the steamy mirror, sure her tiny bump looked more prominent than it had yesterday. Feverish knocking at the cottage’s front door made her grab for a bath towel.

  Towel secured under her armpits and wet hair tucked behind her ears, Julia hurried out in time to see Barker opening the door to Dot.

  “I still haven’t found him,” Dot announced as she marched straight into the kitchen. “Oh, Katie. I keep forgetting you’re here. Have any of you seen him?”

  The worried look on her gran’s face stopped any of them asking to whom she was referring.

  “I haven’t seen him,” Julia admitted.

  “Neither have we,” Katie replied as she attempted to force-feed Vinnie through his cries. “Sorry, Dot.”

  The admissions made Dot collapse onto a stool at the breakfast bar. She had changed from her Dorothy Gale costume into her usual uniform of a crisp white blouse held at the collar with a brooch and a navy pleated skirt cut off at the calves. From the flatness of her usually bouncy curls and the eyeliner still smudged around her often make-up-free eyes, it was clear her gran hadn’t had the luxury of a bath or shower. Julia’s stomach squirmed because she had done both, and she hadn’t aided in the search for her new step-grandfather.

  “Have you slept at all?” Julia asked, nodding for Barker to make Dot a cup of tea. “Or even eaten?”

  “How could I when Percy is still missing?”

  “You still need to take care of yourself,” Julia insisted. “I’ll make you something.”

  Vinnie cried and lashed out, sending his plate of breakfast porridge onto the floor. Katie sighed, and her bottom lip trembled; she wasn’t used to having to look after Vinnie without the help of a housekeeper and nanny. They went through a similar routine every morning. Dot looked like she was about to offer parenting advice, but Julia shook her head since the topic never ended well.

  “I can’t stay,” Dot said, already standing. “I need to keep looking. I only came because I was passing down from the farm. He could be anywhere, and anything could have happened to him.”

  Barker glanced at Julia as he poured milk into Dot’s tea. He had the same look on his face as DI Christie had worn. He thought Percy was guilty.

  “He has to be somewhere,” Julia said calmly, steadying her gran as she swayed on the spot. “Drink some tea while I get dressed. I’ll come and help you look.”

  Barker gave Julia a look she knew meant ‘Are you sure about this?’, forcing her to smile and nod. They were involved now, and stopping either of them from getting to the botto
m of the wedding murder mystery would take a lot.

  After blasting her hair and dressing in a comfortable pair of jeans and a faded vintage Spice Girls t-shirt, a recent charity shop find from her favourite band as a teenager, Julia left her bedroom, ready to start. She could squeeze in an hour before she had to open the café, at least. Julia wasn’t surprised when Barker insisted on coming along. Whether he wanted to investigate or just make sure Julia was safe, she didn’t mind. She was glad to have him along, especially now that he had regained the fire in his eyes she hadn’t seen since he handed in his Detective Inspector badge.

  “I’ve looked everywhere I can think of,” Dot said as they walked down the garden path, leaving Katie and Brian to whatever they had planned for the day. “Absolutely everywhere.”

  “Have you checked his flat?” Barker asked.

  “That’s the first place I checked,” Dot replied with a bite. “I almost beat the door down. There was no answer.”

  “But you didn’t check inside?” Barker’s brow arched. “He could be in there.”

  “The door was locked,” Dot said, a little meeker.

  “Don’t you have a key, Gran?”

  Dot bit into her bottom lip and fiddled with her brooch, one of her few nervous ticks.

  “Not officially,” Dot replied with a side-to-side head bob. “But now that you mention it, I did make a copy for emergencies, although Percy doesn’t know I have it.”

  Julia wasn’t surprised by the admission. Dot had freely admitted at the meal that she had spare keys for everyone’s houses, and Dot meant everyone’s. Why should Percy’s be any different? Julia didn’t mind that her gran had acquired her key to the cottage at some point, even after Barker had changed the locks. Thankfully, Dot’s habit of letting herself in day and night had become rarer since Julia and Barker married.

  They drove to Dot’s cottage on the edge of the village green in Julia’s car. Though it was early, the police were crawling all over the village hall. A small group of dog walkers and teachers on their way to school had gathered on the other side of the police tape, no doubt getting a head start on the day’s gossiping.

  With the secret key in their possession, they drove to Percy’s flat above the Gentlemen’s Club clothing shop at the bottom of Peridale’s historical shopping street, Mulberry Lane.

  “What if he is in there?” Dot asked, key hovering over the lock. “As I said, he doesn’t know I have this.”

  Her gran’s reluctance was obvious. Even though Dot had spent the night looking for her husband, most of that time had doubtless been spent letting her imagination run away. Dot would never admit to it, but she wore the same look of fear that Barker and DI Christie had done.

  “You’re married now,” Julia reminded her. “This flat is as much yours as his, so you’re not breaking any laws. Right, Barker?”

  Barker shrugged. “Erm, sure?”

  Dot slid the key into the lock, and the door opened without resistance. After a moment’s hesitation, Dot led the way up the dark staircase to the flat above. They let out a collective sigh of relief when they found Percy fast asleep on the sofa, still in his costume.

  “Percival Cropper!”

  He bolted upright, his hat falling off and over the back of the sofa. Blinking behind his round specs, he looked around the dark flat, finally landing on his uninvited guests. A glance down at his emerald green costume seemed to remind him what had happened.

  “Dorothy, my dear,” Percy mumbled behind a yawn, “what time is it?”

  “Don’t you ‘what time is it’ to me, mister!” Dot whacked his arm with a cushion. “Where have you been?”

  “Right here.” He rubbed his arm. “I hope I didn’t cause any alarm.”

  “Alarm?” Dot cried, her hands planted on her hips. “I’ve been out all night looking for you! I’ve been worried sick.”

  Julia cleared her throat. “I think it’s important to remember that we’ve found him alive and well. Why don’t I make us all some tea so we can discuss things properly?”

  Suggesting tea appeared to soften Dot. She rubbed at her neck and nodded, her gaze fixed on the posters of past magic shows covering the walls and avoiding Percy’s longing stare. Leaving them to it, Julia found her way into the small kitchen at the back of the flat. After rummaging around, she put together a tray with a teapot, mugs, and a plate of gingernut biscuits. When she returned to the sitting room area, she was glad to see Dot sat on the sofa, and even though there was a person’s width between them, Percy and her gran were holding hands – although Dot’s eyes were still anywhere but on Percy.

  “I am sorry,” Percy offered as Julia set the tray on the magic-magazine-covered coffee table. “I never intended to worry you all.”

  “We know,” Dot replied, her tone softening as she rubbed Percy’s hand with her thumb. “But you have some explaining to do.”

  “I suppose they’re looking for me?”

  “They?” Barker parroted as he rattled the keys of an old typewriter on the sideboard. “You mean the police?”

  “Yes,” Percy replied as he shovelled down a biscuit. “I might seem a foolish man, but I’m not entirely braindead. I know how this looks. My brother was murdered at my wedding the night after we had a public altercation at the Comfy Corner. I was even there backstage with him right before Julia found him dead.”

  In the ensuing awkward silence, Julia filled their cups with the now-steeped tea. Julia had a million and one questions for him, but she could wait until Percy said everything he needed to say.

  “Did you…” Dot’s voice trailed off. “Did you kill him, Percy? I need to know.”

  “My Dorothy, I—”

  “Yes or no?” Dot whispered, pulling her hand away from his. “I need to hear you say it.”

  Percy ducked to meet her eyes as he took her hand back. In a barely there voice he said, “No, I didn’t murder him. Don’t you believe me?”

  “I do.” Dot finally met his eyes. “I just needed to hear it.”

  Percy nodded before looking around to meet Barker’s gaze and then Julia’s. She reached out for a biscuit to nibble on because she couldn’t hold his look.

  “Is that what you all think?”

  “We didn’t know what to think,” Julia admitted. “Everything happened so quickly. It’s been a lot to digest. We didn’t specifically think you were to blame, but you just summarised where the clues are currently pointing.”

  “Which is why I came here,” Percy said, sighing. “I was in shock. I still am. I needed to gather my thoughts in private and – well, being the silly old sod that I am, I think I lost track of time. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

  Barker left the old typewriter and sat on the arm of the chair at Dot’s side that Julia had taken. He picked up a cup of tea and a biscuit, and just as he lifted the biscuit to his lips, he paused. Julia recognised the determination in his eyes.

  “Perhaps,” Barker started, his voice slow and calm, “you could help us fill in the blanks? It would help us establish a clearer picture.”

  Percy nodded before reaching for his tea. After adding a few lumps of sugar, he gulped down half of it and returned it to the table with shaky hands. He closed the gap and took Dot’s hand once again.

  “Few people in their eighties can say both their siblings are alive,” Percy said, tutting as he caught himself. “Well, I suppose I’m not one of them anymore. Our genetics allowed us to reach this age together, and yet I despised one of those brothers. Even now, with him lying cold on a slab somewhere, his face all frostbitten from the burns, I still can’t find it in my heart not to hate him. I don’t suppose that helps my case, but it’s the truth.”

  “You don’t have to like someone just because they’re dead,” Dot reminded him. “From what you’ve told me, that man was awful to you.”

  “Awful is one word for it.” Percy tapped Dot’s hand. “Cruel is another. Yes, cruel is apt. It was no secret that Ian didn’t like me. From the moment I
was born, he was determined to hate me. My mother, God rest her soul, said Ian resented not being an only child. Even with only four years between us, he got too comfortable before I came along. He broke my toys until I outgrew them. At a young age, I gave up on having anything nice because he couldn’t bear seeing me even slightly happy. When Eugene came along a few years after me, Ian, for whatever reason, decided he was okay having a new sibling, but he was never okay with me. The torment never stopped. I suppose that’s why I buried myself in learning magic. It was the only time I could escape the reality of my life.”

  Percy retrieved his cup and sipped more tea while he gathered his thoughts and let his words sink in.

  “I moved out as soon as I was old enough,” Percy continued. “It ruined my relationship with my parents. They always took Ian’s side. He was their firstborn son, and I was just the weird middle child who wanted to play with coins and cards. I married Joyce soon after, but Ian wasn’t invited to the wedding. He still showed up. I had quite a burly uncle, Uncle Patrick, who put a stop to it and kicked Ian out before he could ruin things. I should have known he would turn up this go around.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Barker asked. “Before he turned up here.”

  Percy thought for a moment as he nibbled on another gingernut.

  “At least a decade,” Percy finally said. “After his last cruel trick on me, I swore never to see him again, and I kept that promise until the night before the wedding.”

  “What did he do?” Barker asked, edging closer in.

  Percy almost replied, but he stopped himself. Dot cleared her throat and shifted slightly in her seat.

  “Ian told Percy he’d had an affair with Joyce,” Dot said firmly, squeezing Percy’s hand.

  “Complete lies!” Percy’s jaw tightened under his aged skin. “Ian only said it after my Joyce was dead and buried. I never thought for a moment there was any truth in it, but he knew he’d planted a seed of doubt in my mind, and that was enough for him. He tried to ruin the memory of my beloved by attacking when she couldn’t defend herself. From that moment on, Ian Cropper was dead to me.”