“But you did.”
“Of course I did. We were soul mates, twin souls. Destiny put us together. Alan even told me that in the beginning. It was only later, after I’d agreed to marry him, that he started pushing me away.”
“Some men are afraid of commitment,” Fenella remarked. Or maybe he realized that you were unstable and that drove him away, she added to herself.
“I followed him to your building that morning,” Kara said, her eyes focused on the sea. “I followed him and watched him. He went into Suzy’s office and shut the door. When he came out, I asked him what they’d been doing in there and he smirked at me. It was all just too much. When he left the building, I followed him. I told him I was sorry I shouted at him and I gave him a big hug and then I stuck the knife in his chest.”
Fenella felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She tried to stand up, but her legs were shaking too hard to support her. Kara glanced at her and then smiled. “Don’t run away,” she said. “We have so much more to talk about.”
“Where does Mark Potter fit into all of this?” Fenella heard herself ask.
“Mark knew I wasn’t in the office that morning, but he told the police I was. He was out at various sites, but he told the police that he’d rung the office multiple times and spoken to me. After the police left, he let me know that he’d provided me with an alibi, but he expected something in return.”
“How awful,” Fenella gasped.
Kara looked at her and then laughed. “It’s not what you’re thinking,” she said. “Mark felt inadequate next to Alan with all of his conquests. He got one of Alan’s girlfriends to pretend to be having an affair with him because he wanted to get rid of his wife. When Alan dumped the girl and she moved across, he needed a new fake girlfriend and he wanted me to fill the position.”
“Why didn’t he just divorce Abigail?”
“It wasn’t just about getting rid of Abigail. I think he wanted to pretend he was irresistible to women, just like Alan was. Who knows, maybe over time he would have tried to get me into bed. I don’t know.”
“So he asked you to be his pretend girlfriend?”
“Yeah, otherwise he’d tell the police I wasn’t at work the morning Alan was killed,” Kara confirmed.
“So he knew you’d killed Mr. Collins?”
Kara laughed. “I’m sure he didn’t think that,” she said. “He just thought I’d be in trouble with the police for lying on my statement. At the time, I told him I’d gone shopping with Alan’s credit card, so he thought I might be in trouble over that as well. I’m sure he never thought about me actually being the murderer.”
“And that got him killed,” Fenella said.
“It was awful, though,” Kara told her. “With Alan, it was so easy, but with Mark the blood went everywhere. I suppose I was just lucky with Alan. There wasn’t much blood at all and most of it went on the ground. When I stabbed Mark, there was blood flying around all over the office. I had to go home and take a shower and change my clothes.”
Fenella thought back to standing outside the office building, watching the girl walk down the street. “You came back to work in a summer dress and sandals,” she remembered. “Even though it was a cold day.”
“I hadn’t done any laundry for a few days and I didn’t have much choice,” Kara said. “I had to hurry to get back before the body was found. I wanted to find him, just in case I’d left any fingerprints or anything behind.”
“Sorry about that,” Fenella said wryly.
“Anyway, I threw on the first clothes I could find that were ready to wear and raced back to work, only to find you and the police were already there.”
“So what happened to the clothes you were wearing when you killed him?” Fenella asked. The woman might kill her, but Fenella was hoping that the phone in her pocket was recording their conversation. Hopefully it would provide the police with everything they needed to charge the woman with the murders.
“I put them in a bag and drove up to the Point of Ayre,” Kara said. “I weighted the bag down with a bunch of stones and threw it as far as I could into the sea. Even if the police find it, the sea will have washed away any evidence by now.”
Fenella hoped that wasn’t true. “I’m sure this has all been traumatic for you,” she said slowly. “Maybe you should talk to someone about it.”
“They’d just lock me up,” the girl said. “I don’t want to go to prison. Alan needed to die. His soul was mine anyway. He even told me that.”
“And Mark?”
“I suppose you’d have to call him collateral damage,” the girl laughed. “I am a little bit sorry about you, though. You’ve been so very nice to me today.”
Fenella opened her mouth to reply and then changed her mind. She was done talking. The figure on the beach was now close enough that Fenella thought she might be able to reach him or her before Kara caught up. Surely Kara couldn’t kill both of them?
Feeling as if she should have the element of surprise on her side, she started to speak. “I don’t think you…” She stopped in mid-sentence and jumped up off the bench, taking off in a run before Kara had time to react.
Feeling as if she were trapped in her own nightmare, Fenella ran down the steps to the beach and began to run as if her life depended on it, as it probably did. She ran straight toward the person she could see in the distance, hoping she wasn’t about to frighten a little old lady or a teenager who was skipping school. The sand was slippery and soft under her feet and she could hear Kara running behind her, cursing loudly.
Time seemed to stand still as she ran and Fenella felt like she couldn’t catch her breath, as fear and hard physical exertion began to take their toll. A moment later she tripped on a piece of driftwood and almost fell. She looked back over her shoulder and saw that Kara was much closer than she’d hoped. The woman had the knife in her hand and her eyes looked crazed.
“Help,” Fenella said to no one as she tried to increase her pace. The person on the beach seemed to be getting further away as she ran. Terrified that the person might suddenly leave the beach and drive away, Fenella began to shout.
“Hey, hey, help!” she yelled as loudly as she could. Shouting used up valuable oxygen, though, which made running more difficult. She could hear Kara right behind her now and she began to anticipate the knife plunging into her back. Another piece of driftwood almost sent her to her knees and as she staggered to regain her footing, Kara grabbed her arm.
“Stop running,” she hissed. “You’re going to attract attention.”
“That was sort of the point,” Fenella panted.
Kara shook her head. “I wish there was a way to make this look like suicide,” she said. “That would be much easier for me.”
“They’re going to catch you,” Fenella told her, still struggling to catch her breath. “There’s no point in killing me.”
“They won’t catch me. I even took the time to set up an alibi for today.” She laughed crazily as Fenella stared at the knife.
“I think you should drop that knife,” a familiar voice said from right behind Fenella.
Kara looked over Fenella’s shoulder and then frowned, letting go of Fenella’s arm as she did so. “Go away,” she said petulantly. “We’re having a private conversation.”
“Put the knife down,” the voice said calmly.
Fenella was feeling anything but calm. She began to take small steps backwards, hoping Kara wouldn’t notice. Luckily Kara was still staring at the man behind her.
“I won’t,” she said. “It’s my knife.”
“But you shouldn’t be waving it around on a public beach,” the man said. “You might frighten someone.”
“No one’s frightened of little old me,” Kara simpered. “I wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Why do you have the knife?” the voice asked.
“I was, um, worried about being mugged,” she replied.
Fenella felt a hand on her back and nearly screamed. The man behind her guid
ed her to his left as he continued to talk to Kara.
“The island is very safe,” he said. “You don’t need a knife like that just for walking on the beach.”
“Both of my bosses got murdered recently,” Kara argued. “The island doesn’t feel very safe.”
Fenella felt slightly better as she slid behind Constable Corlett. As long as he kept Kara talking, she felt almost safe.
“The island is very safe,” the constable said. “Our police force is one of the best in the world.”
“And yet you haven’t worked out who killed Alan and Mark yet,” Kara said with a smug grin.
“Actually, I think we have,” Inspector Robinson interjected.
Fenella hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the knife in Kara’s hand, so she hadn’t noticed the man’s approach. Kara glanced over at him and then spun around and began to run back down the beach. Fenella was relieved and surprised to see a veritable army of policemen and women quickly surround her. Holding her breath, Fenella watched to see what Kara would do next, worrying for the brave men and women who were in danger from the sharp knife.
“I’m starting to feel as if I’m in trouble,” Kara said with a small laugh. “Danny, you won’t let them do anything to me, will you?” she appealed to the inspector. “You were so kind the day Mark’s body was found. I know I can count on you.”
“You need to put the knife down,” he told her. “And then we can go over to my office and have a little chat.”
“Maybe we could chat in my flat, instead,” Kara suggested. “We could have a bottle of wine and I’ll light some candles. It would be romantic.”
“Not with that knife in your hand,” the inspector said, his tone light.
Kara glanced down at her hand and then shrugged. “It makes me feel safe,” she said.
“I hope you’ll feel safe with me,” the inspector replied.
“Oh, yes, of course,” Kara said. She dropped the knife onto the sand and then threw herself into the inspector’s arms. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whispered to him. “You’ll make sure they all understand, won’t you?”
“You need to go with Constable Knowles,” he told her. “She’ll look after you until I can get to the station. Go on, you’ll be fine with her.”
Kara smiled at him. “Have her take me to my flat. We can talk there,” she said brightly.
“I think the station might be a better idea,” he replied gently.
Kara pouted for a moment before one of the young female constables stepped forward and took her arm. “If you’ll just come with me, we’ll go down to the station and get you a nice cup of tea. You must be freezing in this weather.”
“Oh, yes, I am, actually. I wanted to go up to Fenella’s flat with her, but she wouldn’t let me,” Kara replied. The duo walked away, chatting together.
Fenella blew out a long breath and then, much to her embarrassment, burst into tears.
“It’s adrenaline,” the inspector said. “You’re better off letting it all out.”
Knowing how red and splotchy she got when she cried, Fenella tried to get herself back under control as quickly as she could, which wasn’t nearly as fast as she would have liked.
“I have to go down to the station and talk to Kara,” the inspector said eventually.
Fenella sniffed and then nodded. “I tried to record our conversation,” she said. “I don’t know if it worked.”
“You can give a complete statement to Constable Corlett,” he told her. “He’ll take you home now and talk to you there.”
15
Fenella was surprised to see that she hadn’t actually run that far from the bench across from her building. At the time it felt as if she’d run miles, but the walk back was much shorter than she expected. Bethany Carter was sitting on the bench as she and the constable approached it.
“Ah, there you are,” she said to Fenella. “I thought you wanted to talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk to anyone right now,” Fenella said.
Bethany looked at her and then looked away. Fenella was sure that it was obvious that she’d been crying.
“You need to bring your cat in for shots,” Bethany reminded her as she turned on her heel and walked away.
“You have a cat?” Constable Corlett asked as they crossed the promenade.
“I just got her a few days ago,” Fenella said. “She sort of adopted me.”
“I’m allergic to cats,” the man said tightly.
The pair made their way through the lobby of her building and onto the elevator. “I’ll try to keep her away from you,” Fenella said as she opened her door.
Katie looked up from the couch and then put her head back down. Mona was sitting in the comfortable chair and she shook her head at Fenella and then slowly faded away.
“Would you like some coffee or tea or something?” Fenella asked.
“Tea would be good,” the man said. “It was awfully cold, standing out there watching you.”
“You were watching me?”
“Actually, I was watching Kara,” he corrected himself. “She was at the top of Inspector Robinson’s list of suspects, so he had me keeping track of her. He didn’t think she’d stop with the two murders she’d already committed.”
Fenella shuddered. “She wanted to kill me,” she said, her voice shaking as she spoke. “She thought I knew something, or saw something, but I didn’t.”
“Did you say something about recording the conversation?” he asked as Fenella prepared the tea.
“Yes, my goodness, I haven’t even turned it off yet.” Fenella had hung up her coat when she came in. Now she went and dug around in the pocket until she found her phone. When she tapped the button, nothing happened.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “I think I may have used up the battery.”
“Plug it in to charge and while we wait for that, you can tell me all about your conversation with Kara,” the constable suggested.
They sat down with their tea and Fenella did her best to recall every word of the conversation she’d had with the other woman. The constable stopped her when she told him about how Kara had disposed of the clothes she’d been wearing when she killed Mark Potter.
“I’ll just ring that in and get someone on their way to the Point of Ayre,” he said. While he was making the call, Fenella dug a box of chocolate-covered biscuits out of the cupboard. They’d looked very tempting in the grocery store, advertised as being covered in Belgian milk chocolate. Fenella sighed with pleasure as she took her first bite. They were every bit as good as she’d hoped.
“Sorry, carry on,” the constable said when he’d finished his call. As Fenella continued, he ate his way through a few biscuits himself.
“Right,” he said when she was done with the story. “I’ll type this up and give it to the inspector. He’ll probably want to follow up with you on one or two points, maybe tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here,” she said tiredly. Or at the pub, she added silently. A cup of tea might be the perfect cure-all for the British, but she was starting to think that a glass of wine would better suit her mood.
“Is the phone charged enough for us to try to listen to what you recorded?” the man asked. Before Fenella could answer, he sneezed.
Katie walked into the room and glanced at him before helping herself to a few bites of her dry food.
Fenella switched her phone on and tried to access the recording. All she’d managed to get was a few muffled sentences before it cut off.
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling stupid.
“It’s fine,” he told her. He sneezed again. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find more than enough evidence against her without the recording. It wouldn’t be admissible in court anyway.”
He sneezed again as his phone buzzed. Fenella handed him a tissue as he glanced at the phone’s screen.
“I need to ring the inspector,” he said after he’d read his message.
When he hung up, he smiled at F
enella. “I think the baby is really coming this time,” he told her. “Inspector Robinson will be by later tonight or tomorrow.”
“Thank you for being there today,” Fenella said. “I’m not sure what would have happened to me if you hadn’t been.”
“Just doing my job,” he said with a small bow.
Fenella locked the door behind him and then sank down into the nearest chair. Tears welled up in her eyes again and as Katie jumped into her lap, she let herself cry.
“For goodness sake, stop driveling,” Mona snapped at her.
Fenella lifted her head and looked at her dead relative. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. If a murder suspect ever wants to talk to me again, I’m going to say ‘no’ for sure.”
Mona shook her head. “No doubt it was scary, but the important thing is that you’ve solved the murders. Kara will go to prison, or more likely, a mental hospital, and you’ll be able to sleep at night.”
“Yes, but I nearly got killed,” Fenella said. “It was terrifying.”
“But you didn’t,” Mona said. “The police were there and it all worked out in the end. And I was right. I told you one of Alan Collins’s women was the killer.”
“Too bad you couldn’t have been more specific,” Fenella said dryly.
“Anyway, I suppose I ought to think about moving on, now that everything is all done and dusted,” Mona said.
“I don’t know what to say to that,” Fenella admitted. “Goodbye? Good luck? Have a nice afterlife?”
Mona laughed. “I’m sure, if you look, some store will have a card for just this occasion,” she said. “And maybe one from your cat as well.”
“No doubt,” Fenella agreed.
A knock on the door interrupted their chat. Shelly took one look at Fenella and then enveloped her in a hug.
“I heard you were chased by a madwoman with a knife all down the beach,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better,” Fenella said. “But it’s all over now, and I’ll sleep better knowing the killer is behind bars.”
An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - ABC Page 23
