by Agatha Frost
“‘Murder’,” Julia read aloud, her throat drying up. “‘Julia did it’. We really should get out of here.”
To Julia’s surprise, Jessie pressed a couple of buttons on her phone before taking a picture of the sugars. When Julia shook her head to ask her what she was doing, Jessie shrugged and pocketed her phone.
“It’s evidence!” Jessie cried defensively. “It looks like it’s been written in blood.”
Julia took a step back, but something sharp pierced through her sheepskin slippers and stabbed into the sole of her foot. She yelped and jumped back. She looked down at a long metal screw, which was sticking up on the ground and covered in white dust. She felt her foot, but it didn’t appear to be bleeding. Jessie bent down to pick up the screw, but Julia quickly held her back.
“Call the –”
Before Julia could finish her sentence, a hot light flooded the coffee shop. It took Julia a moment to realise that the burning brightness was coming from outside. They both turned around, their hands shielding their eyes from the white light. Julia opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t see a thing beyond the brightness.
“Come out with your hands up!” a stern and angry voice cried over a megaphone. “Don’t try anything stupid!”
As Julia walked towards the coffee shop door, she caught the reflection of their covered faces in the window. She knew things couldn’t look any worse if they tried.
“There’s a dead man in here,” Julia called out, her hands above her head. “Somebody broke into my café across the village green, and I saw this door open and came to see what was happening. We haven’t done anything wrong.”
An officer stepped away from a police car, his baton in one hand and a pair of handcuffs in the other. Jessie shifted in closer to Julia, her hands also high above her head. Despite her bravado, Julia could feel fear radiating from every fibre of Jessie’s being.
“We haven’t done anything wrong,” Julia repeated, daring to take a step forward as another officer circled the car, the headlights still blinding her.
“Stay where you are!” one of them called.
Before Julia knew what to do or say, both of them were in handcuffs and being driven past her café and through the village to the local police station, still in their increasingly tight charcoal face masks and pyjamas.
“We’re done for, aren’t we?” Jessie whispered.
“I think so,” Julia replied, not knowing how she could sugar-coat their situation. “I think so.”
Chapter Four
The sun burned Julia’s eyes as she stumbled out of the station with Jessie by her side. The moment she saw Barker sat on the bench outside the closed pub across the road, Julia ran straight into his arms, the tears lining her lashes.
“Oh, Julia,” he said as he clenched her face to his chest. “I came as soon as I heard.”
“It was horrible,” Julia whispered, her fingers clinging to the back of Barker’s shirt. “They’ve been questioning us for most of the night.”
“They wouldn’t let me anywhere near the interview rooms. It’s procedure when we’re so close to a –”
“Suspect?” Jessie asked as she joined them outside The Plough. “You can say it.”
Barker smiled sympathetically at Jessie before pulling away from Julia and holding her by the shoulders. He stared deep into her eyes, as though to calm her, but she could see the deep-set panic in his pupils.
“Why didn’t you call me when the alarm went off?” Barker asked with a sigh. “I could have sorted this sooner.”
“Sorted it?” Jessie asked.
“The only reason they’ve let you go without charging you is because I’ve been running around the village trying to prove your story. One of the girls at the station called me first thing this morning and told me everything that had happened, and how they were treating you like murder suspects. She said you were wearing balaclavas?”
“They were charcoal face masks,” Julia said, her fingers drifting up to her still stinging cheeks after having the masks forcibly removed by the arresting officers. “Dolly and Dom!”
She clasped her fingers around her mouth as guilt surged through her. In all of the commotion, she had completely forgotten about the houseguests she had locked in her cottage.
“If you’re talking about those two blonde kids asleep on your floor, they’re still there,” Barker said, a little confused. “They’re curled up in a giant ball with Mowgli in the middle of them.”
Julia pulled the plastic bag out of her pocket that contained her phone, car keys, and watch, the possessions that had been confiscated during her arrest. She squinted at the small watch face, surprised that it was already two in the afternoon. She looked around the village, suddenly realising that it was buzzing around her, and she was still in her pyjamas.
“I suppose they’re just like two cats,” Jessie said absently, her eyes glazing over as she stared into space. “Cats in clothes.”
“How did you prove our story?” Julia asked as she reattached her watch. “They were acting like we had conspired to kill Anthony. They knew all about what happened with the fingernail earlier in the day, but that’s Peridale for you.”
“After that nasty business with the wreath on my doorstep, I had security cameras installed all around my cottage,” Barker said nervously. “They caught you driving by at four minutes past midnight. I was banging on Shilpa’s door at six this morning to get her post office footage. I don’t think she likes me much right now, but it proves the rest of the story. You arrived in the village, went into your café, walked out and then went to Happy Bean. That’s when the officers turned up. One of the residents called them when they heard your alarm. I have a good mind to have those jokers fired! They were one step away from tasering you, I’m sure of it!”
A cold shudder spread across Julia’s shoulders. She pulled her dressing gown across her body and tucked her scruffy hair behind her ears, never one to be self-conscious, but also not one to wander around the village in her nightclothes.
“We’re out now,” Julia said, trying to force a smile. “That’s all that matters.”
“I’m not finished,” Barker said, appearing a little excited and nervous at the same time. “The footage spotted somebody leaving Happy Bean, run to your café, and then head off into the night.”
“Who?” Julia asked.
“I don’t know,” he said through a gritted jaw. “They were hooded. It’s not the best quality. They went through the back door of the coffee shop, killed Anthony, and fled through the front. I’ve already checked, and there are no cameras covering the back entrance. If this were London, we’d have every corner covered, but it seems Peridale is quite resistant to surveillance.”
Julia’s mind flashed back to an uproar that had happened soon after she had moved back to the village. The council had been trying to erect cameras around the village green to target petty crime, but the backlash from the villagers had been so great, they had eventually backed down. It turned out the residents didn’t like the thought of being spied on, which Dot had said was because everybody had something to hide.
“I just want to go home, shower, and sleep,” Julia said after a long yawn, glad that it was Sunday, meaning she didn’t have to think about her café. “I think we’ve earned it.”
“There’s more,” Barker said, the concern growing in his voice. “They found something in the cake display case in your café.”
“Found what?” Jessie asked loudly. “Because if it’s a library book on American desserts, I swear I didn’t know it was overdue!”
“They found a bottle of something,” Barker said, his eyes meeting Julia’s. “They’ve blocked me from this case, but I know the detective they’ve brought in from Cheltenham to lead the investigation, and he told me that their early tests suggest it’s a poison of some kind.”
“The murder weapon?” Jessie asked. “In Julia’s café?”
“That explains the break-in,” Julia th
eorised. “Why my café?”
Barker arched a brow and tucked his hands into his jacket. He cocked his head back and smirked dryly at her.
“You’re taking this rather calmly,” Barker said. “If I didn’t know you, I’d think it was because you were involved, but I do know you, so what are you thinking?”
“Somebody is trying to frame me,” Julia said, forcing down the lump in her throat. “I’ve had all night to come to that conclusion. The sugar at the scene proved that.”
“Sugar?” Barked asked, proving how little he knew about the case.
Julia was about to explain, but Jessie pulled her own plastic bag containing her phone out of her pocket. She pressed a couple of buttons before a highly exposed and slightly blurry picture filled the frame. She pinched the screen and zoomed in on the shiny red writing on the sugar packets. Barker gulped and looked up at Julia.
“It’s blood,” Jessie whispered. “Human blood.”
“‘Julia did it,’” Barker whispered, tugging at his shirt collar. “That might explain a few things. Julia, you need to promise me that you’re going to stay out of this investigation. You’re still a suspect until they say otherwise. They’re going to do everything they can to work around the evidence to make it fit their story. I should know, I work for them.”
“I promise,” Julia said as she stuffed her hands into her dressing gown. “I honestly just want to go home.”
Barker kissed Julia gently on the forehead as he ruffled Jessie’s hair. She batted his hand and ducked out of the way with a scowl. Julia chuckled, glad to see things going back to normal.
“I need to get to work,” Barker said. “Somebody stole Imogen Carter’s favourite garden gnome. They’ve put me on the case.”
“Ever the exciting life, eh, Detective?” Jessie mocked.
“Watch your tongue, young lady,” Barker said with a wink. “I could always go in there and fix it up so they charge you. I know people.”
“Bite me.”
Julia laughed, kissed Barker one more time and turned to watch him walk into the station. When they were alone, Julia let out a sigh of relief.
“Your fingers were crossed in your pocket when you made that promise, weren’t they?” Jessie asked flatly.
“No,” Julia said as she quickly uncrossed her fingers. “But somebody has gone to great trouble to try and frame me for murder, and I’ll be damned if I sit back and let them get away with it. Security footage or not, I need to clear my name before the mud sticks.”
“Mine too,” Jessie said with a firm nod.
Julia was about to tell Jessie to stay out of things, but she closed her mouth. She would be a hypocrite if she broke her false promise to Barker while also forcing Jessie to make the same promise. As she linked her arms through her young lodger’s, she realised they were far more alike than either of them probably recognised.
Julia and Jessie walked into the heart of the village arm in arm. Her chest tightened when she spotted her café. Blue and white crime scene tape circled the small building, a forensics team swarming in and out like flies. She thought about them touching all of her baking things, and her heart hurt a little.
“I don’t mind going to prison,” Jessie said as she pulled away from Julia and clenched both of her fists. “I reckon I could take out at least three of them before they call for back-up.”
Julia rested her hand on Jessie’s to let her know she appreciated the gesture but she would rather they both stay as far away from the police station as they could until they were handing over the real murderer.
Turning away from her café, she looked in the direction of Happy Bean, which had similar men in white costumes combing over the scene. Her mind flashed back to Anthony Kennedy lying on the floor in his coffee shop. Despite everything that had happened, it upset Julia to think a man had needlessly died, especially one she had known for so long. She thought back to the way he had looked at her on the village green the day before, with his glowing orange tan and porcelain white teeth, devoid of any real emotion. It wasn’t so different from the look she had seen on his dead face.
Julia linked arms with Jessie and they set off. The thought of climbing into bed, even if she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep, was all that motivated her. She knew Anthony’s untimely death wasn’t going to be her café’s saviour. Like most corporate beasts, another head always grew back when you cut off the first, and the second was usually much, much worse.
“Is that Dot?” Jessie asked, stopping in her tracks and looking at the village hall next to St. Peter’s Church.
Julia shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted in the direction Jessie was looking. Her heart sank when she saw her gran, with a group of the other elderly villagers, marching towards her café with new t-shirts and protest signs.
“Free Julia!” Dot bellowed down the megaphone in the direction of the bewildered forensics team. “You can try and lock me up, and you can throw away the key, but we will not settle until she is released!”
“Maybe we should just leave her,” Jessie whispered, holding Julia back. “It’s too funny to spoil.”
Julia considered it for a moment but shook her head. She looked down at her pyjamas and slippers, realising how silly she must look walking around the village.
“What do we want?” Dot cried.
“To free Julia!” the gang replied.
“When do we want it?”
The girls looked at each other, unsure of what the correct response was.
“Now!” Dot replied for them, pursing her lips and frowning heavily at her group. “We want it now! Unleash my granddaughter from your evil clutches or else I will – Julia?”
Julia smiled awkwardly as she walked forward. Dot, as well as the rest of the protesters, stared at her with bewilderment, as though she was walking on water, or had just risen from the dead. Dot immediately dropped her megaphone and pulled Julia into a suffocating hug.
“I’m fine, Gran,” Julia gasped through the grip. “We’re fine.”
“Oh, Julia!” Dot cried into her ear. “We feared the worst! Shilpa called and told us what Barker said about you being arrested for murder! I was on the phone first thing to the printers to get new t-shirts.”
Dot tugged proudly at her t-shirt, which spelt out ‘FREE JULIA’ in giant letters.
“I couldn’t bear the thought of you locked up in there,” Amy Clark exclaimed as she pulled open her pale pink cardigan to reveal her t-shirt. “I should know what it’s like.”
“You robbed banks, Amy, you didn’t bump off coffee shop owners,” Emily Burns whispered, making Amy Clark nod meekly and pull her fluffy cardigan back across her chest. “It’s good to see you back, Julia. Are those pyjamas?”
“It’s a long story,” Julia said, glancing through the window of her café as a man in a white suit swabbed her cake stand. “I’m sorry you wasted money on new t-shirts.”
“No money wasted!” Dot announced with a grin. “I got them for free at the print shop on Mulberry Lane! Mr Shufflebottom was more than happy to accommodate our needs.”
“You did blackmail him,” Amy whispered, lifting a finger as she stepped forward.
“I simply said if he didn’t do them, I would reveal his secret,” Dot said with a shake of her perm as she glanced over her shoulder at Amy. “Do you have to be such a little snitch, Amy? I thought shacking up with the other criminals in cellblock H for a twenty stretch would have taught you better!”
“What secret?” Jessie asked.
“Oh, I didn’t know one,” Dot said with a smirk as she leaned into Jessie’s ear. “But between you and me, most people have one, so it’s a good tactic to use, kid.” Dot winked and pinched Jessie’s cheek. “He started blabbering about his gambling addiction before I had even finished my sentence. Worked a treat!”
Julia didn’t know whether she should be flattered or horrified at the lengths her gran had gone to for the sake of protesting her arrest. She knew Dot cared, but part of her knew sh
e was enjoying stirring the troops and protesting something. Dot’s arrest had no doubt lit a rebellious fire under her feet. Julia made a mental note to make a tiramisu for Mr Shufflebottom, which she remembered was his favourite after sitting next to him in The Comfy Corner restaurant for Dot’s birthday dinner last year.
“Well, I’ve had enough murder, blackmail, and extortion for one day,” Julia said, another yawn escaping her lips before she could stop it. “I appreciate the effort, Gran, but you can put your feet up until the next worthy cause passes you by.”
“Nonsense!” Dot cried as she unclipped her handbag and pulled out a black marker pen. “I’ll just change them! There’s more work to be done.”
Dot ripped open Amy’s cardigan, crossed out ‘FREE’ and scribbled ‘IS INNOCENT’ under ‘JULIA’. Julia stepped forward to object, but Amy shook her head to let her know it was probably best to let Dot do what she wanted. Leaving her to finish correcting the group’s t-shirts, Julia walked past her Ford Anglia, which was still parked where she had left it the night before. She realised it probably wasn’t wise to try driving home on the little sleep she had had. For the second time that day, they set off back towards their cottage.
When they reached Happy Bean, she was surprised to see a woman with messy caramel hair laying a bouquet of pink lilies outside the coffee shop. Julia stopped in her tracks, her stomach knotting tightly. The woman wiped away a tear from her raw eyes with a sodden tissue before standing up. She too stopped in her tracks when she saw Julia, and to Julia’s surprise, her top lip snarled and her nostrils flared. She looked as though she was going to say something, but she pushed through them and marched across the village, her head low and her hands tucked into her jacket pockets.
“I think she works at the hospital with Sue,” Julia whispered to herself as she looked down at the flowers. “Word really does get around. She thinks I’m guilty.”
