Filigrees, Fortunes and Foul Play

by Emily Selby

  But first, she had to start earning properly. More than she was making with the part-time cleaning jobs. So maybe if she took more work...

  Well, maybe. Assuming her best clients didn’t keep dropping dead... She shuddered.

  A male voice broke through the silence. 'Hello there, you must be the cleaner...?'

  Katie jumped and stared down at the tall, well-built man in a white polo shirt and blue overall standing at the corner of the house. His greying hair was combed to the back of his head, his salt-and-pepper beard was tidily trimmed. He looked well in his fifties and was still quite handsome. She'd seen him before. Nice chap, Phyllis' nephew. But at this specific moment, seeing his familiar silhouette was not comforting. On the contrary.

  Katie swallowed hard, glancing towards the far end of the street, which was still empty. No flashing lights, no sirens. Just her and... the man who had been around the house all the time.

  'Yes. I'm Katie Redford. You must be Roy,' she said as casually as she could, but her voice was a nanometre from breaking into a sob. 'I was supposed to help Mrs Dunbar with the house this afternoon. Is it your gardening day?'

  The man crossed his arms and frowned. A dark smudge stained the collar of his shirt. Dirt? Or dry blood?

  'I'm helping her with the garden. Potting new flowers. She wants me to plant a new geranium bed this spring,' he said through clenched teeth.

  He still spoke of Phyllis in the present tense. Maybe he didn't know his aunt was dead. Should she tell him? Or was he only feigning ignorance?

  Katie wrapped her arms around herself.

  'Are you alright?' he asked and stepped closer.

  Katie jerked back. Her heart was hammering.

  'Hey, girl!' the man called and made another step towards her.

  'Yes, yes, I'm fine,' she croaked hunching and gluing her back to the wall.

  A blue light flashed somewhere near the school.

  Katie drew in a long breath. She had to keep him talking. Casually. Like nothing happened. Like she wasn't scared of him, or anyone else.

  'I see you've mowed the lawns. Mrs Dunbar often talks about you. She says you have green fingers.'

  'Yeah, I like gardening,' he said. His voice sounded a little less tense, but his eyes drilled through her.

  'It's a windy day. Difficult to work in the garden, I guess,' she added, squinting to see the flashing lights. It was the ambulance. The siren wailed, and Roy flinched.

  'An ambulance? Here?'

  A lump in Katie's throat seemed to be growing. If it grew any bigger, she’d choke.

  'Yes, it looks like there is an ambulance coming...' Another flashing light emerged from around the corner of the school. This time, she recognised a local police patrol car. The knot in her throat loosened a little.

  'And the Police.'

  Roy's face paled. His arms slid to his side.

  'What's happened?'

  Katie opened her mouth and closed it. And then opened it again. Why the hell did it take them so long to get here? The ambulance stopped by the gate, behind her Nissan Micra.

  'What's happened?' he asked and bounded to the steps leading to the bungalow. 'Aunt Phyllis, is she alright?'

  Katie slid back and leaned against the door. Her knees wobbled as if they were made of jelly. She ran her tongue around her mouth. It felt dry like wood.

  'I'm afraid...' she said while two paramedics hurried through the gate.

  'Hi, where's the victim? Is it safe to enter?' the first paramedic, a forty-something man with dark hair, called.

  'P-police... Right there,' Katie stuttered, pointing to the approaching patrol car.

  Roy flinched again. 'Move away. I need to get inside,' he shouted and ran up the steps. 'Aunt Phyllis!'

  A wave of heat and sickness flushed over Katie. She leaned harder against the door. The first police officer emerged from the patrol car.

  'Police. Move away. Don't enter!'

  Katie mustered what little willpower she had left to clear away from the door. She walked towards the two police officers. The first, Chris Fox, was an old friend. The other, younger and female was a ne recruit. Katie had never felt so happy seeing cops.

  'Katie! What are you doing here?' Chris called out.

  As calmly as possible, Katie approached them.

  'I think Phyllis Dunbar has been murdered. She's in there - in her spare room.' She pointed to the window.

  Chris and his colleague ran to the door.

  Katie took a deep breath, and her body started to shake. She sobbed and rubbed her nose until it went numb. It helped keep tears inside.

  An unmarked, silver car arrived and parked behind the ambulance. An important looking, young man emerged. His face looked vaguely familiar.

  'Where are they?' he asked, indicating the patrol car.

  Katie pointed to the entrance with her trembling chin.

  The new arrival followed the other officers inside.

  Aware she shouldn't leave the site before the police gave her permission and not wanting to re-enter the house, Katie slumped down on a large, concrete planter beside the garden gate.

  'Katie, hey, you're alright, lass?'

  Katie lifted her head and smiled weakly at Chris.

  'She's been murdered, hasn't she?' Katie asked.

  'She's dead. We're calling the medical examiner and the crime scene investigators,' Chris replied in a matter-of-fact way. 'But, how are you?'

  'Shaken, cold and nauseated. A bit too much for one person to handle. When can I go home?'

  'This is why I'm here. The DI wants to talk to you.'

  'Who's the DI?'

  'Detective Inspector Jack Heaton,' he said, suddenly sounding all formal.

  'The young guy in glasses?'

  'Yeah, that one.' Chris paused and stooped to whisper into Katie's ear. 'This is the new Mr SmartyPants sent from the city. Serious crime outreach, or whatever they call it. He happened to be at the station when your call came through. Talking to the boss.'

  'Ah, that's why he seemed vaguely familiar. Was his photo in last week’s newsletter?'

  'Yeah.'

  'What’s he like?'

  Chris straightened. 'He's ok with us. I don't know what he's like with suspects though...'

  Katie's mouth dropped before she could do anything about it.

  'Suspects? What do you...? I mean, I haven't done anything... How can you?'

  'Kidding.' He winked. 'You'll be okay. Just tell him what you saw.'

  Katie exhaled slowly. The nausea intensified at the thought of reliving the scene in the spare room. She badly needed a big piece of duct tape to keep herself from failing to bits, not a piece of advice like that. She pulled her elbows close to her chest and climbed to her feet.

  'All right, I'd better do. Where is he?'

  'He'll come and talk to you in a minute.'

  'Thanks,' she croaked.

  She shuffled her feet to hide the fact her legs were starting to tremble. She held the airflow steady. The knot in her throat reached the proportions and tightness of a ball of elastic. A suspect in a murder investigation! In cosy Sunnyvale!

  She stayed by the flower planter and Chris returned to the house. A few minutes later, the female officer walked out with Roy. He was sobbing, covering his face with his hands. She helped him climb into the patrol car. If he was so distressed, did it exclude him as a suspect? Where had he been all this time?

  Katie tried to think back to the eerie scene in the garden, but the main door opened again. The DI appeared, with a black briefcase under his arm and a paper cup in his hand. He gave her a curt, acknowledging nod.

  'Just a second.' The voice was formal, but with a hint of warmth. He walked to the patrol car and handed the cup to Roy.

  Nice gesture. Katie's heart fluttered. Good cop, she wondered, or part of the game? He beckoned her to his car, and she obeyed.

  He held the passenger door open for her and waited until she climbed in. Her legs were still trembling, and she was relie
ved to be seated again. It turned out controlling her legs and her breathing at the same time took too much effort.

  The DI sat in the driver's seat, busy setting up his notebook and pen. Definitely good-looking: pink skin with a bluish shadow of stubble that went very well with the black, neatly trimmed hair.

  'I'm Detective Inspector Jack Heaton,' he said, with the notebook open. A pair of intelligent blue eyes stared at her through the black wide-rimmed glasses. A young-looking face. Maybe a bit too young-looking.

  'You are...?

  Katie opened her mouth and closed it. This was ridiculous. Here she was, on a murder scene, probably being one of the key witnesses and she was losing her ability to speak. She cleared her throat.

  'Katie Redford. I'm a... I was helping Mrs Dunbar with cleaning.'

  'You found the body, right?'

  Katie flinched and gaged.

  'Sorry, I realise this must be difficult for you, but we need to go through the procedure,' he rushed. 'I can get you a cup of water if that'd help.'

  A warm, caring glint shone in his eyes, but a second later, he looked all official again, cool, calm and collected. She took a deep breath. She'd love a cup of tea, but even more, she wanted the process to be over. She gulped to keep her stomach in its place.

  'No, thank you. I'm fine. How can I help?'

  That sounded better, more professional. After all, she worked with the police on a daily basis. No reason to suddenly lose her wits in front of a handsome, if boyishly young, policeman.

  'I need to interview all the people linked to this... er ...situation.'

  'Was she murdered?'

  'At this stage, we are treating it as a sudden, unexpected death of an unknown cause.'

  'But there was so much blood...' Katie inhaled sharply fighting another bout of nausea.

  'Yes,' he cut in. 'Can you tell me more about what you saw when you entered the room?'

  'I saw her immediately. She was lying on the floor across the door, by the big chest of drawers where she kept her crafts materials. There was so much blood...'

  'Did you see anything else?'

  'There was a cat there. Not her cat. It must live nearby. But other than that, I didn't notice anything else. To be honest, I didn't really look around.'

  'Did you hear anything unusual?'

  'When I was in the crafts room?'

  'Yes, or just before or after.'

  Katie paused, trying to think back to that moment.

  'I did have a feeling there was something unusual about the whole place. But I can't really put my finger on anything specific. I mean, apart from the cat.'

  The inspector stared at her, his eyes glinting in the harsh light.

  'Can you specify what you mean by "something unusual about the whole place"?'

  Katie blinked.

  'As I said, I can't. I had a feeling, a hunch something was wrong.'

  'A hunch, huh?'

  Katie shuffled in the chair, uncomfortable under his piercing glare. He didn't really get hunches, did he?

  'Yes, a hunch. And then the cat meowed.'

  'The cat meowed. Isn't it what cats do?'

  Katie felt a flush creeping up her face. He was right. This was a silly thing to mention.

  'Er, yes, of course,' she added hastily. But the cat kept bugging her. And where had it disappear to?

  'Did you touch anything in the room?'

  Did Katie detect a slight tone of condescension in the inspector's voice?

  'No. I know one shouldn't touch anything at the... er ... scene of a suspicious death. I work at the police station.'

  Now, maybe this would make him treat her a little more seriously.

  ‘Indeed. Officer Fox mentioned that.'

  Was there a warmer hint in his voice again, or was it her wishful thinking?

  'I'm an admin person. It's a part-time job.'

  'Hello then!' he said and smiled. There was a warmer hint in his voice.

  'So, what were you doing in Mrs Dunbar's house?'

  'As I said, I came to do some cleaning. It was an extra job. Normally, I work Thursday afternoons, but she is... was expecting a visitor this evening. Oh, by the way, I think we need to let him know, so he doesn't come. Now, there’s no point in him coming, is there?'

  'Who doesn't come?'

  'The Vice-Chairman of the Parish Council, Mr McBride. Alistair McBride.'

  The DI raised his eyebrows.

  'Why was he coming? What time?'

  'She only told me she had an urgent important meeting at quarter past five this afternoon. That's why she needed my help outside the usual schedule. She is... was a very well organised woman, Mrs Dunbar. A woman of particular habits. She rang me yesterday, quite apologetic, and said she had an urgent meeting and needed help with cleaning. It was going to be a quick job. Just some hoovering and–'

  'You don't know what the meeting was about?'

  'No idea. She kept it to herself.'

  'Did she normally?'

  'Yes. I think she liked to... how do I put it? She always struck me as someone who didn't blabber. She didn't like others blabbering, either.'

  'Did she keep secrets?'

  Katie blinked and watched the Inspector's face for a few seconds. Was it a trap?

  'Well, if she did keep any secrets how would I, or anyone else know?'

  His face froze. He cleared his throat.

  'Good point. Did you know Mrs Dunbar outside this cleaning arrangement?'

  Well, at least he can admit to his mistakes. Nice one.

  'Yes, a little. We were both members of the Paper Crafts Club in town. That's how she knew of me and offered me the cleaning job.'

  'Tell me a little more about your movements this afternoon.'

  Katie told him about the originally agreed time, the meeting with Miriam, Linda and Ally at the Paper Crafts Club and the call from Mrs Dunbar earlier that day.

  'So, she was expecting someone else today? I thought she had told you about it yesterday.'

  Katie chewed on her cheek. It was confusing, and she had to be as clear as possible.

  'She was expecting Mr McBride, at quarter past five this afternoon. She told me about it when she called yesterday. I think, something else must have happened either this morning or around lunch time and she had another visitor and then she had to talk to someone urgently. This was what the earlier call was about.'

  'Do you know who, or what it was about?'

  Katie shook her head. 'No idea. She sounded a little tired on the phone though. Slurring and yawning.'

  The Inspector stopped scribbling in his notebook and looked straight into her eyes.

  'Did you talk about any of this with Mr Dunbar?'

  'Mr Dunbar?' Katie blinked. 'Mr Dunbar is dead.'

  'Dead?' The Inspector froze for a second and then his gaze wandered to the patrol car in front.

  'Oh, I mean, old Mr Dunbar,' Katie waved her hand. 'Phyllis Dunbar's husband. He's been dead for years. Did you mean Roy Dunbar?'

  'Yes. Roy Dunbar.'

  'Oh, sorry, no, I didn't manage to tell him. I wasn't sure if...'

  'If?'

  Katie hesitated again. Should he tell the inspector about her strange feeling? But Roy looked genuinely upset by the death of his aunt. And the inspector didn't seem fond of hunches and feelings. No, she didn't have any evidence, and she didn't want to accuse an innocent man. Everyone deserved to be treated fairly, even suspects.

  'I wasn't sure if I was allowed to.'

  The inspector nodded looking thoughtful.

  'Did you see him around the house when you arrived?' he asked, his eyes piercing her again.

  'No, I didn't. In fact, as I told you, I didn't see anyone, except the cat.'

  Inspector Heaton closed his eyes, but Katie would swear she could see them rolling behind the lids.

  'Did you hear anything suspicious or unusual when approaching the house?'

  Katie took a deep, slow breath, trying to recollect the scenes again. The
nausea returned. She swallowed hard and kept thinking. It was hard – her mind was fighting back, shutting out the images as soon as she brought them up.

  'There was some music coming from the shed. Someone signing, a male voice. I was surprised to hear it, but now I think it must have been Roy.'

  'Did you see him?'

  'I've already said, I didn't,' Katie said trying to hide her growing irritability. This new guy might have been a smart city boy, but he wasn't very good at interviewing people. First, he wants everything explained, even when it's unexplainable, then - he keeps asking the same questions.

  'I didn't see him until he emerged from behind the house. Just before the ambulance arrived.'

  Inspector Heaton scrunched his face and bit his upper lip. His pale pink cheeks deepened a tone. 'Right. Did you see or hear him coming?'

  'No, but then I was too engrossed in my thoughts. He appeared out of nowhere.'

  'Were you aware he was around the house?'

  Katie closed her eyes to hide her desire to roll her eyes. 'I was surprised to see him, but only because I usually come on Thursdays, and Roy's here on Tuesdays. So, it is normal for him to be here, but not when I am here. It's also normal for him to be behind the house, in the back garden, or anywhere around or inside the house. If that makes any sense. After all, he's Mrs Dunbar's closest relative.' The last sentence came out sounding more irritated than she intended.

  The Inspector seemed to pick up on her annoyance and changed the subject.

  'Can anyone confirm your movements for this afternoon between the call from Mrs Dunbar and your call to the emergency services?'

  'I left the meeting around 2.40 pm and made a phone call to a friend of mine. You can get the call log and a text message to my daughter from my phone. I was home from about 2.45 to 3.05 pm, maybe my neighbour, Mrs Gerard can verify it. You can also ask the lady from the house opposite, Barbara Cambridge.' Katie pointed to the bungalow across the street, to her right. 'She might have seen my car. Barbara's retired, but sometimes works in the local library. She's quite'–Katie paused to find the right word–'observant. Yes, that's a good word. She is a busy woman, but if she was at home, she might have seen something or someone.'

  Inspector Heaton jotted the name in his notebook. 'We'll talk to her.'