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At four o’clock we took down all the clues and returned the treasure chest, which took us nearly two hours. All Alistair and I really wanted was a nice unhealthy pub meal, and so we went to The Rose and both ordered cheesy chips and gravy. It always made me feel like I’d gained twenty pounds directly after the meal, but it was worth it.
“I’m glad there were plenty of kids who showed up. And worried that all of them were better than the Castlefield Book Club,” I said. Callum had just brought our meals, and it was too hot to eat. The torture of having a deliciously smelling meal and not being able to eat it.
“Poppy really is something,” he said and started chuckling at the memory.
“You’re good with kids,” I said.
“Thanks. I’ve always liked kids. You’re good with them too, by the way. You were very sweet and encouraging.”
I looked down at my plate. “Thanks.”
“Do you want kids?” he asked.
“Yes,” I automatically said, then remembered Rupert’s words. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Why not?” He looked at me with patience, not revealing any sort of emotions on his face. No judgement.
I shrugged. “Just—I mean, it’s really selfish, isn’t it? What if you have kids and there’s something—I mean, what if they have something bad?” I frowned and poked the cheesy chips with my fork.
“Maggie,” Alistair said and put his hand over mine, “don’t let other people tell you who you are.”
“But what if those people are right?” I swallowed as I started to sweat.
He squeezed my hand. “Have you ever hurt yourself deliberately?”
“No, of course not,” I said.
“Hurt anyone else deliberately?”
“No!”
“Then what’s the problem?” He let go of my hand and took a bite of his chips. “This is delicious. But hot.” He took several swigs of his pint.
Was it really that simple? No harm, no foul. I mean, Detective Black had always helped me. He showed up when I needed someone to talk to, or to crack a joke, or when I started to panic about something. So, did it really matter if he was my imagination or not?
I felt tears in my eyes as a huge weight started to lift and ate my chips with blurred eyes, while Alistair pretended not to notice.
It was lovely.
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AFTER DINNER WE TOOK a walk and ended up at the Antique Shoppe. The light was still on in the back.
“Do you mind if we go in?” I said. “I want to make sure he’s okay. My aunt told me that they’d had a chat and decided to stay separated. I feel bad for him. He’s all alone, and he’s doing it to protect Nancy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I understand. It’s not something that should be taken lightly.”
“Yes, and he’s very brave for doing this. They both are, so I want to help in any way I can.”
Alistair touched my cheek. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
I knocked on the door.
Again Gus came shuffling out of the back room. He froze for a moment as he observed us, then hurried to the door and unlocked it for us. “What brings you here? Is your aunt okay?”
“Yes, she’s keeping busy. We just wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”
He turned the lights on in the shop. “There, now we can see what we’re saying.”
I chuckled. “Thanks. So, how are you doing?”
“I guess I’m alright. I think it was the right decision. Loss is the most painful feeling, nothing can truly heal it. I really don’t want to do that to your aunt.”
I wanted to say that she’d experience it anyway, but decided to keep that to myself.
“Do you have anyone to look after you for when things—get worse?” Alistair asked.
“I’ve asked my nephew to stay with me for a while when that happens, but so far so good. I plan on doing as much as I can myself.”
“And are you doing anything special in the months that you’re still okay?” I asked.
He laughed. “You mean the infamous bucket list? Oh, no, those things are nonsense. People should not make lists for things they want to do once they realise they’re dying. We’re dying from the moment we are born. I’ve done all the things I’ve wanted to do. I will simply enjoy my time here. This antique shop is my passion. You must understand as a shop owner,” he said to me. “This place was first a shoe shop. I bought it quite cheaply, you know? And I was so excited to start. I had already collected a lot of antique items.” He laughed again.
“When I first started, I found it so difficult to part with the items that I made them too expensive. But people bought them anyway. It hurt at first, but then I started to love it. Being able to watch people so happy with their new purchase. Giving an old object new life. It was thrilling. Not to mention that I always discover something new. I fill my shops with all sorts of new items.”
Alistair started looking around the shop. “You do have some really nice things. I can’t believe I’ve never looked around before.”
I hadn’t either.
“Well, you’re always welcome.”
“Thank you,” Alistair said. “My dad used to collect—” his voice trailed off. “Err, Gus, how long have you had this?”
“What?”
Alistair had taken a handkerchief and was holding up the statuette of the quill. The murder weapon.
“Blimey,” Gus said.
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GUS GOT ALISTAIR A large zip-lock bag for the statuette. There was blood on it as well as a blond hair.
“Can you think of anyone who could have done this?” Alistair asked.
“I’ve been on the market every day except for today. You’ll have to ask Breanna, she’s worked here the last few days.” He scratched his head. “I can’t believe I haven’t noticed.”
I looked around the cluttered shop. I could.
“I need to make a few phone calls. Can you ring Breanna? Ask her to come in?”
“Of course, whatever you need.” Gus hurried off.
“Sorry, Maggie. Can you get home okay?” Alistair asked.
“Yes. Just keep me updated, and let me know if I can do anything. I’ll keep my phone on.”
“Thanks.”
I went back home where Christina was flicking channels on TV. She looked up. Snowball was on the ground, relaxing.
“Hey, how are you?”
“You won’t believe what just happened.” I sat down next to her and told her about how we found the murder weapon in Gus’ shop.
“The audacity of the killer to just put it there,” she said.
“Which also means that the blond hair is probably a set-up. First I thought that the murder has been an opportunity, a-spur-of-the-moment decision. You know, perhaps an argument that got out of hand, with the pen in his chest as an afterthought. But now I think it might have been more calculated than that. What if the killer had planned it like this all along?” I shivered.
“Then it must have been someone who really didn’t like him.”
“Which is a long list of people. Even I didn’t like him.”
Christina nodded. “He was a sleazeball.”
“A rapscallion.”
“A scallywag.”
We giggled, then turned serious.
“What will happen now?” she asked.
“They’ll test it for prints and DNA. My guess is that there’s nothing of the killer on there, but we’ll see.”
“Do you think you’ll solve the case? You and Alistair, I mean?”
“I hope so, but this one isn’t easy.” I yawned. “What did you do today?”
“Mostly did some chores and reading. What’s tomorrow?”
“Bowls and hula hooping,” I said.
She made a face. “I think I’ll skip that one.”
“It’s actually surprisingly fun, especially when you make up your own rules. And with the hula hooping, it’s fun to watch. Especially when Eddie does it. He’s very good. His hips have lives of their own, I tell you.”
She laughed. “I’ll make sure I see that. And take photographic evidence.”
“Good. I’m going to write a bit and then go to bed. I’m sleepy.”
“Okay, sleep well.”
I gave Snowball a cuddle and stepped into my office. I started up my laptop and sighed. “I’m sorry, Detective Black. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Please, come back.”
I closed my eyes. When I opened them, he still wasn’t there.
“Damn it.” I opened the file of my latest project and started writing. I wrote for about twenty minutes and then hit a snag. “What would be better? Have her lie or tell the truth,” I muttered to myself.
“Have her lie,” Detective Black said from behind me.
I whirled my desk chair around and got up to hug him. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
He blushed. “Yes, well, just get to work, young lady. We don’t have all day.”
I finished the scene and even wrote another one, after which I felt like it had been a successful day. I hopped under the shower and went to bed, when I realised I had intended to read Sophia’s manuscript. I was too curious and retrieved my laptop as I settled in bed. I stuck the flash drive in my laptop and started reading the first chapter. Before long I’d read the first three.
I was surprised by how well she could write. She hadn’t even needed Carl. She was skilful enough. So far the story was about a woman who went to meet someone she already knew, but apparently he didn’t recognise her. She had created suspense and mystery and all that without even having a crime committed.
Though I was tempted to keep on reading, my eyelids were protesting, and I switched off the laptop. I dreamt about a treasure chest filled with scones.
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THE NEXT MORNING I woke up at ten o’clock. I checked my messages as I remembered the events from last night. Alistair had sent me a message that he’d stop by in the morning.
I panicked as I checked the time and wanted to jump out of bed. My foot got caught on the duvet, and I fell flat on my face. Pain echoed through my body.
Footfalls sounded closer and closer until the door swung open and Christina surveyed the damage. “She’s fine,” she yelled.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Alistair. I was making him a drink and was about to wake you.”
I ungracefully got to my feet. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Really. Take your time, we both know what you’re like when you rush things.”
I gave her an innocent smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
When I entered the living room, Alistair was holding Snowball. He stroked her very gently while muttering sweet things to her. She seemed to enjoy it and had her eyes closed.
Christina was in the armchair, looking at them both with a smile on her face. “She’s the softest, isn’t she?” she asked.
“Yes, she really is,” he replied.
“You wouldn’t expect such a cute creature to poop as much as she does,” I said.
They both looked up.
“Hello, Sleeping Beauty,” Alistair said, then realised what he’d said and eyed Christina.
She just laughed. “I’ll leave you two to it.”
“You’re welcome to stay,” I said.
“No, I’ve got plans in the village. You guys have fun catching dangerous killers.” She winked at me.
She seemed surprisingly okay with everything, which I admired about her. Her conversation with Alistair, and me, must have helped. Difficult things—even painful things—could still be good things.
I joined Alistair on the sofa. “Did you find out anything useful?”
“Yes. The hair belongs to Wendy. It could have fallen off her head as she plunged the knife in. We picked her up this morning, but she lawyered up. We have the right to hold her for a while, so maybe that will loosen her tongue.”
“But?”
“But why place a bloody murder weapon in a shop, where it will be discovered? Unless you’re not the killer and you want it found, because it proves someone else did it.”
I snapped my fingers. “Exactly. That’s what I was thinking. But if you know that, then why did you arrest her?”
“It will make the killer think he’s safe. We want that. Right now, the killer seems to be one step ahead of us. Always. It’s time to turn the tables on him.”
“Good thinking. But like you said, we only have a few hours before we even have to let Wendy go,” I said.
“I know, so we have to get some new clues fast.”
“If only this were a story,” Detective Black said. “Things would be so much easier.”