“Everyone seems to think he’s hiding something,” Shelly said.
“That wouldn’t surprise me. The trick now is finding a way to get him to share his secret,” Daniel replied.
“Maybe it’s time to get all of the suspects together,” Fenella suggested. “As I understand it, most of them haven’t seen one another in many years. Maybe if they were all together, one of them would remember something important or could persuade Clyde to talk.”
“It isn’t my job to engineer a reunion,” Daniel told her.
“Maybe I should have a go,” Fenella said thoughtfully. The idea was still playing out in her mind as she followed the others to the elevators. Daniel was silent as they drove back to Poppy Drive. Whatever he was thinking about, Fenella was trying to work out how best to persuade everyone to reunite.
“Thank you for an interesting evening,” Daniel said on her doorstep a short while later.
“I hope we can help you solve the case,” she told him.
“Even if we don’t, at least we’re spending time together,” he replied. He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Sleep well,” he said in a low voice before he turned and walked away.
Fenella let herself into the house and then counted felines. Everyone was in place, so she headed up to bed. With no real plans for the weekend, she crawled into bed still thinking about getting Mabel’s friends together.
The cacophonous sound of angry kittens dragged her out of a sound sleep. “It’s nine o’clock,” she muttered to herself as she headed down the stairs. “I hope you lot are just hungry.”
A quick check suggested that hunger was the kittens’ only complaint. She gave them several bowls of food and fresh water before she took her shower and got dressed. The day seemed to stretch endlessly in front of her, but by the time she’d done some grocery shopping, popped home to do laundry and check on Katie, eaten a few meals, and watched some television, it was time for bed again.
Her Sunday was broadly similar, with yet another trip to the shops for things she’d forgotten the day before, but fortunately, no additional laundry. Monday was sunny and bright and Fenella rolled out of bed feeling determined. The kittens were due to visit Mr. Stone again, but that was the only thing on her schedule before her class that evening. Somehow, before the class, she had to come up with a way to convince Donna to take part in the reunion she was hoping to arrange. How hard could that be?
13
“No, I’m sorry, but I won’t do it,” Donna said firmly. “With the case being back in the newspapers, I’ve been thinking far too much about the past. Now isn’t the right time to see everyone again.”
“There might never be a right time,” Fenella told her. “I’m going to make the same suggestion to the others. Do you want me to let you know if any of the others agree to meet?”
“No, I’m not the least bit interested,” Donna told her flatly.
“I think we’re ready to begin,” Marjorie said from her seat at the head of the table. “I thought we’d start today with some more letters. These are from the mid-eighteenth century and are between two brothers.”
She passed out the photocopies and Fenella stared in horrified fascination at the black scrawl on the paper. “Are you sure this is English?” she asked. “Are you even sure it’s meant to be language?”
Marjorie laughed. “I know this man’s handwriting is challenging, but that’s why I chose these letters. I promise you that once you get your eye in, you’ll be able to read it with ease.”
An hour later, Fenella had a slight headache, but she also had a neat transcription of the letter. It was an interesting one, as well, full of gossip about one of the writer’s neighbors who was allegedly having an affair with the village blacksmith.
“After the break, we’ll read the reply from the man’s brother,” Marjorie told them. “He lived on the other side of the island, so this was all news to him.”
“I hope there was something equally exciting happening in his village,” George said.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” Marjorie teased.
She made tea and opened packets of biscuits for everyone. Fenella joined the others at the table, frowning as Donna seemed to deliberately move away from her as she approached.
“I heard you went visiting last week,” Annabelle said.
“Who, me?” Fenella asked in surprise.
“Yes, I heard you spent some time visiting with some friends of mine,” Annabelle told her.
“Did I?”
“Howard and Patricia Quinn,” Annabelle explained.
“Oh, yes, I did meet them,” Fenella agreed. “I took the kittens to visit a few of the nursing homes in Douglas.”
“Patricia told me she was quite taken with the mother cat.”
“Yes, she said she’d like to adopt her, but her husband didn’t like the idea.”
“Patricia will get her way. She always has. Howard is completely devoted to her.”
“Ha,” Donna interjected. “He used to complain about her when he was at Mabel’s house doing repairs. I sometimes thought he used to come to repair things that weren’t even broken, just to get away from Patricia.”
“What a horrible thing to say,” Annabelle snapped. “I don’t know what you’re hoping to accomplish by saying awful things about them, but Patricia and Howard have always been devoted to one another.”
Donna shrugged. “Maybe they went through a bad patch, then, or something. I just know what I remember. He seemed to be at Mabel’s house more than I was, almost, although Patricia used to visit a lot, too. I never saw them at the house together, though.”
“With all due respect, that was a long time ago. Perhaps you’ve mixed things up in your memory,” Annabelle said in a sugary sweet tone.
“I haven’t, but you may believe what you like about your friends,” Donna told her. She moved a few feet away from the others and sat down with her tea.
“Patricia said you were going to visit again this week,” Annabelle said to Fenella. “I’m sure she’ll have talked Howard around by that time.”
“She isn’t the only person interested in taking the mother cat, though,” Fenella replied.
Annabelle frowned. “I’ll have to let her know, just so she isn’t too disappointed if you give the mother to someone else. I’m sure Patricia would be the best choice, if you’re the one making the selection.”
“As her husband was so adamant that he didn’t want the animal, I wasn’t even considering her,” Fenella said. “Mr. Stone will be making the final decisions on where all of the cats go, anyway.”
“As I said, Howard isn’t a concern. Patricia will, of course, consider his opinion. She is devoted to him, obviously, but ultimately, if she really wants the cat, she’ll persuade him that he wants her, too.”
Fenella nodded, even though she wasn’t convinced. If it were up to her, the cat would go to Jeanne Reese. Fenella had liked Jeanne and Aaron a good deal more than Howard and Patricia.
“Let’s get to work on that reply, then,” Marjorie suggested a short time later.
After another hour, this time with a much more legible letter, the class finished for the evening.
“It seems like everyone on the island was having affairs in those days,” George commented as everyone packed up his or her things.
The second letter had detailed not one, but two different affairs that were taking place in the village where the other brother lived.
“There was little else for people to do in those days besides gossip about one another,” Margaret suggested. “It’s all speculation, anyway. Neither brother had any proof. The second brother even admitted as much for the one of the affairs he mentioned.”
“We have an entire collection of letters between the pair, maybe a hundred letters in total. I’d be thrilled if anyone wanted to transcribe them all for the museum,” Marjorie said. “While these two are particularly gossipy, there’s a lot of interesting information about life on the island in them,
too. We could learn a lot about society and culture if we had the entire collection available for study.”
“They’re too sordid for me,” Annabelle said tightly. “I enjoy learning more about the island’s history, but this sort of salacious gossip isn’t why I take these classes.”
Marjorie nodded. “I thought they would make a nice change from the wills and import and export records we usually study, but they were a bit racier than I was expecting. The research assistant who dug them out for me just told me that they were full of village gossip. She didn’t give me any specifics. It was the particularly challenging writing that made me want to tackle the first letter.”
“I hope next week we’ll be looking at something rather different,” Annabelle replied.
“I have the perfect thing for next week,” Marjorie laughed. “One of my assistants has uncovered several handwritten notebooks in one of the boxes from one of the churches. I believe they’re notes by a former vicar, mostly to do with his sermons.”
Fenella exchanged glances with Margaret and then George. They both looked as unexcited about transcribing sermons as she felt.
“That sounds fascinating,” Annabelle said.
“Fenella, darling,” Robert said as everyone began to stand up. “I hope you haven’t forgotten that you agreed to talk to me about your experiences with the police and the various murder investigations of which you’ve been a part.”
“Actually, you must have forgotten that I said I wasn’t interested,” Fenella replied. “Sorry.”
He shook his head. “But I absolutely need your input. You’ve been involved in some sensational cases. I’ve already sold the idea of a series about them to the local radio station. More importantly, I’ve generated a great deal of interest in the project across. A major London station has suggested that they may well be interested in purchasing the finished series.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to take part,” Fenella said firmly.
“Inspector Robinson seemed to think you’d be more cooperative,” Robert replied.
“Then he was mistaken,” Fenella said, wondering if Robert had actually discussed the idea with Daniel or if he were simply throwing Daniel’s name into the conversation in an attempt to change her mind.
“He’s going to be doing a short segment on each case,” Robert added. “He was the inspector in charge of most of them.”
“If you have Daniel taking part, you definitely don’t need me,” Fenella said.
“The series is meant to be about how murder investigations operate, seen from different perspectives. Having the police involved is helpful, but you were going to be the voice of the average man or woman suddenly caught up in a murder investigation.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to find other average people to take my place,” Fenella replied.
Robert sighed. “I’m going to hold out hope that you’ll change your mind. I’ll be starting to work on the scripts this week, but I don’t have to write your part for a while yet. I’ll ask you again next week. Please give it some thought between now and then.”
“Please do us both a favor and start looking for someone else,” Fenella said. “I’m not going to change my mind.”
Robert looked as if he wanted to object, but Donna interrupted.
“Being involved in a murder investigation is a deeply unpleasant experience,” she told Robert. “I don’t blame Fenella for not wanting to talk about her experiences. I’ve only ever been involved in one murder investigation and that was fifty years ago. I hate talking about it, even now.”
While Donna had been speaking, Fenella had quickly finished packing up her things. She was heading for the door before Robert could reply to Donna.
“I’ll see you all next week,” she called from the doorway, eager to get away before Robert spoke again.
“Wait a minute,” Donna said quickly.
She grabbed her bag and followed Fenella out of the room. In the corridor, she took Fenella’s arm and led her to the elevators. It wasn’t until the elevator doors were shut and they were descending that she spoke again.
“I don’t want to see them again, but if you do arrange a meeting, I’d like to know about it,” she told Fenella. “If everyone else wants to meet, I may give the idea a little bit more thought.”
“I’ll call you if anything gets arranged,” Fenella promised. “Your number is on the class roster, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s on there,” Donna agreed.
At the first class Marjorie had given them each a copy of the class roster, including contact details. She’d suggested that everyone consider sharing rides and also encouraged them all to discuss their transcriptions in between sessions. Thus far Fenella hadn’t even looked at the list, and no one had called her. She could only hope that Robert wasn’t going to start bothering her about his radio series.
Fenella drove slowly back to Poppy Drive. Donna hadn’t exactly agreed to the meeting, but her interest in hearing about anything that might be arranged gave Fenella hope. Now all she had to do was persuade the others to take part.
“There’s my favorite cat,” Patricia said when Fenella let the cats out of their carriers the next morning.
Patricia and Howard were sitting near the entrance to the large lounge. Howard was reading a book and seemed to be ignoring both his wife and the kittens that were now racing around the room. The mother cat jumped off the table and headed straight for Patricia.
“Hello,” Fenella said brightly as she dropped onto a couch across from the couple. “How are you today?”
The mother cat curled up in Patricia’s lap and shut her eyes. Patricia began to stoke her back, closing her own eyes momentarily and then sighing deeply. “I’m better now,” she said. “I’ve missed her.”
“She seems happy to see you,” Fenella replied.
“Don’t get too attached,” Howard said gruffly. “We aren’t keeping her.”
“We can talk about that later,” Patricia murmured, patting his arm.
“We aren’t going to talk about it later,” he shot back, pushing her hand away. “We are not keeping that animal.”
Patricia looked shocked, angry, and then sad. “She’s awfully sweet,” she said in a low voice.
“No,” was all that Howard replied.
“Annabelle said there were other people interested in her,” Patricia said to Fenella. “I hope you’ll find a good home for her.” As she spoke, a single tear slid down Patricia’s face.
“Mr. Stone is actually going to be the one making the final decisions,” Fenella told her. “For all I know, he has a long list of interested parties.”
Patricia nodded slowly. “I should be happy for her, really.”
“I promise you, she’ll be going to go to a good home,” Fenella replied.
Patricia didn’t say anything, she simply sat and snuggled the cat with tears slowly falling down her cheeks.
“I’ve been talking to a lot of Mabel’s old friends,” Fenella said eventually. “Some of them are interested in getting together again. Over the years they all seem to have lost touch with one another.”
“Isn’t it enough that the police are dragging it all back up?” Patricia asked. “Why would we want to see all of those people again?”
“Who is getting together?” Howard demanded.
“I’m not sure yet. I’ve talked to Donna about it, but it’s really just the beginnings of a plan,” Fenella told him. “I’m hoping to get Jeanne and Marilyn to agree, and also Clyde.”
“Mabel was our tenant, not our friend,” Patricia said. “We barely knew the girl.”
“But we did know her,” her husband countered. “She lived in our home, after all.”
“And she paid us for the privilege,” Patricia snapped. “I don’t know what her friends are hoping to accomplish by reuniting, but it’s nothing to do with us.”
“Maybe they’re hoping to work out what actually happened to Mabel,” Fenella suggested.
�
��She was living on her own, inviting trouble into her life, and it found her,” Patricia said. “If she’d have been living with her parents or a husband, she would have been perfectly safe.”
Fenella swallowed a dozen retorts. “That makes it sound as if you’re blaming her for getting murdered,” she said finally.
“We never should have rented my house to her in the first place. We should have found a nice young family who would have appreciated the place and looked after it properly. My parents lived there for thirty-odd years and never had any problems with the plumbing or the heating or anything else that Mabel used to complain about constantly.”
“I used to do repairs for them, too,” Howard said quietly. “The house wasn’t new and it was starting to show its age. We were lucky Mabel wanted to live there, really.”
“We could have found more suitable tenants, if you hadn’t let Mabel’s father talk you into letting her have the house,” Patricia argued. “You know I never liked the idea.”
Howard nodded and then looked at Fenella. “Nothing like a fifty-year-old argument between spouses, is there? It’s the one fight we both feel as if we lost.”
“I did lose. You rented the house to Mabel over my objections,” Patricia said.
“And then she got murdered there and we had to sell the house at a huge loss,” Howard added. “No one won in the end.”
“Except Mabel wouldn’t have been there if you’d listened to me,” Patricia snapped.
Howard opened his mouth and then shut it again. Fenella could almost see him counting to ten in his head.
“I didn’t meant to bring up a sore subject,” she said, trying to diffuse the tension.
“It was a subject that we’d agreed to leave in the past,” Patricia told her. “Sadly, circumstances have brought the topic back into our lives.”
“Maybe now the police will finally be able to work out who killed Mabel,” Fenella suggested.
“After fifty years, I can’t imagine anyone still cares,” Patricia replied. “You said yourself that her friends have all drifted apart. Surely, whatever happened to her, the entire thing is best left in the distant past.”
Kittens and Killers Page 20
