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Christina bought me a smoothie as we took a walk through the square. The market was yet again in full swing. We ended up at the standing tables near the vicarage where we enjoyed a few snacks and bought lemonade from a stand monitored by two kids wearing oversized straw hats.
We talked about how one of the tourists had mistaken Pandora for a normal chicken and had tried feeding her, but we inevitably ended up discussing Carl’s murder.
“I’m just not sure if it fits, but I could be wrong,” I said.
“What is the piece of the puzzle that’s missing?” Christina asked.
I told her about the manuscript that Carl had hidden in the library.
“Is there any way for you to reach her laptop?”
My eyes widened. “Christina, are you suggesting I sneak into her room in the B&B and snoop around on her laptop?”
“Well, for instance.”
That would be doable, I realised.
“I’ll help,” she said.
“It sounds more exciting than it will be, probably.”
“That’s okay. I could distract Mrs Suzuki while you go up.”
The door lock could be picked, but her laptop would probably be password protected. Still, I could try.
“Do you know where Sophia is?”
Christina nodded. “She is right over there.”
I looked up. She, together with the Castlefield Book Club, was helping to set up the stage for the talent show. It was a very simple stage and each year the book club helped set it up because they always performed. There were occasionally one or two new people that tried something, but most years it stayed the same.
Phoebe and Jessica would do a tap dancing routine. They were surprisingly good, even if their outfits were made of awful colours that made you wish you were colour blind.
Nancy, Olivia, and Eleanor would sing, and Ava, Lily, and Poppy would do something different each year. Last year it was building an elaborate house of cards, the year before that it was fruit carving.
“Okay, let’s try and see what we can find out,” I said, not sure if we would yield results but relieved I wasn’t giving up just yet.
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MRS SUZUKI OPENED THE door wearing large sunglasses. She smiled. “I was just on my way out. Do you need anything?”
“Actually,” I said, glancing at Christina who was giving her best smile. “I want to leave something for Sophia. It’s a present. Don’t tell her, it’s a surprise.”
“Oh, that’s kind of you. I was shocked to learn that she’s that murdered man’s daughter. Poor girl. I’ll be heading out, so make sure you close the door firmly behind you. All the guests are out. She’s in the first room on the right.” She gave a wave and trotted off.
“This is excellent,” Christina whispered.
“I know.” We went inside and shut the door. “I was afraid she’d ask me about the present.”
“I’m glad she didn’t.” Christina gave a nervous giggle. “This is so exciting.”
I smiled and went up the stairs first. When we reached Sophia’s room, I took out my lock pick set and started fumbling with the lock.
Christina looked around furtively, even though there was nobody who could interrupt us. “I’m so relieved you know about all this stuff. I wouldn’t know where to begin. Also, I’d probably panic and end up breaking stuff.”
“Don’t worry, we’re together, and we can always lie. When I was seventeen I had a holiday fling with a boy, and I thought he was cheating on me so when he said he’d go swimming with mates, I followed him to a house and tried to peer over the bushes. There was an annoying dog that started harassing me, and I ended up in the bushes. He found me. It was utterly embarrassing, so I told him I had been walking down the street to visit Eleanor and had been chased by a dog. He believed it. And no, he was not cheating on me.”
Christina laughed. “I’m sorry, but that’s funny. And good thinking.”
The door opened when I pulled on the handle. “Voila, my lady,” I said as the door swung open.
She applauded. “Now what?”
“We go in.”
She looked at me as if I’d just suggested eating a wooden bowl. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I know this was my suggestion, but it just feels weird to trespass. Like we’re intruding.”
“We kind of are, but if she’s a murderer then it will be worth it.” I stepped into the room.
“What if she’s not?”
“Then we buy her a gift basket.” I spotted her laptop on the bed. “Bingo.”
Christina finally followed me inside and shut the door behind her. She remained near it, as if it would make the intrusion less severe. I, on the other hand, was already next to the bed and had her laptop open. There was very little in the room. She had one purple suitcase which was half open and had mostly clothes in it. Other than that, there were a hairbrush and a phone charger on the nightstand.
The laptop was password protected, and I tried a few things. There was pretty much no chance of me guessing the password, but I had to try. I’d already decided that if this didn’t work, I would simply ask her to let me read the ending. If she was really innocent, she would let me.
I tried several passwords, including the name of her main character from her new book as well as the new manuscript. There was a chance it would work since Detective Black was my password for most things. Except that it didn’t work.
“She came into the bookshop to buy a book from her favourite author,” Christina said, now moving closer to the bed.
“Really? Who?”
“Agatha Christie.”
I tried that and gasped. “We’re in.”
“No way!” Christina sat down next to me. My heart was racing and my palms sweaty. “Okay, calm down. Let’s check out her documents.” I scoured for a map labelled ‘writing’ or even ‘work,’ but couldn’t find it. She had a lot of open tabs on book blogs, and it was clear that she liked reading, but where were her manuscripts? I even checked the latest documents but they were nothing of interest to me.
“That’s weird. What kind of writer doesn’t have her novels on her laptop?”
Christina frowned. “That is strange. She was working on it, you said.”
“Yep, but I only have her word for it. I never actually saw the screen. I don’t get it. The manuscript that Carl had hidden had her name on it. But...it’s almost as if she’s not written it. Or, she simply has two laptops. That’s the only explanation.”
“Then we should ask her that. In a non-obvious way. Somehow. Like: ‘I have two similar dresses, isn’t that funny? Do you have two laptops?’”
I laughed. “Yes, that sounds completely normal.”
“What? It’s just a suggestion.”
“I will ask her, but I’ll work it into the conversation a bit more naturally than that,” I said.
Christina stuck her tongue out.
We left everything as we’d found it and went back to the square. There was a breeze that made it feel cooler, and it was the first time since a long time that walking so much as ten feet didn’t cause me to sweat like crazy.
“There she is,” Christina said, as we reached the square.
She was standing there chatting with Nancy and Gus. It was nice to see them together. They looked like a proper couple. Just as Nancy and Gus walked off to Nancy’s shop, we reached Sophia.
“Hey, want to have a drink at the pub with us?” Christina said, before I could. “You’ve been working hard on the stage.”
It did look really professional. The chairs for the audience had also been set up.
“I’d love to. I’m dying from thirst,” she said. “Pardon my word choice.”
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THE PUB WAS NICE AND cool, and we all ordered non-alcoholic drinks. Christina was a star. She managed to chat Sophia’s ear off about fashion, books, even Snowball.
Sophia either really enjoyed those topics, or she was very good at pretending to be interested.
When the topic landed on offices and writing, it was my cue. “It’s really important to be organised for me,” I said. “That’s why I had two laptops for a while. One specifically for my writing. Is that weird?”
“No, not at all. My mum...my mum did that too.”
“Your mum writes too?” Christina chirped. “That’s so cool. Is she published?”
Sophia blushed and shook her head.
I cleared my throat. “But do you do that too? Or do you not need to stay organised that way?”
“No, I just have the one laptop, it’s easier that way.” She smiled.
“Yes, I suppose that’s why I went back to one laptop as well,” I said, and followed up with a few more writing questions so that hopefully this very important question didn’t stick out. But while Sophia was politely engaging in the conversation, my mind reeled.
If she had only one laptop, then where the hell were her manuscripts? The only thing I could think of was that Carl had maybe stolen all of her manuscripts and deleted them from her laptop, like he had with Rachel. Which meant that maybe, if she had indeed killed him, she had them somewhere on a USB stick. Too many what-ifs, still.
What was I missing?
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AFTER OUR DRINKS, SOPHIA left to hang out with Wendy and Gregor. She said they had to arrange their way back to Devon, something they hadn’t done yet with all that had been going on with Carl.
“When will you leave?” I asked.
“Tomorrow, probably.”
Christina and I looked at each other.
“Eddie will be sad,” I said.
“I know. He’s very sweet.” She smiled, but didn’t say any more than that.
“Could I have your number? I’d like to stay in touch.” I took out my phone.
“Sure.” She typed it into my phone, and I saved it.
“Thanks, see you around,” I said.
“Bye.” She left.
Christina and I turned to each other.
“So, what does this mean?” Christina asked.
“Do you think that Carl stole her manuscripts? And she confronted him?”
Christina shrugged. “I really don’t know. Anything is possible.”
“Right,” I said.
Detective Black sat opposite of me. “I still think the manuscript is important,” he said.
I felt that too, but where to dig deeper? Did the answers lie with Sophia? Wendy? Gregor? Rachel? Kelly?
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NOTHING COULD MAKE me feel as peaceful as a visit to Beth, so that’s where I headed after our drinks while Christina went back to the Wicked Bookworm.
Beth gave me a raspberry tart that she’d made with Eleanor in the morning, and I savoured every bite as we sat in the garden again.
“Alistair came round yesterday,” Beth said.
“He did?” I said with my mouth full.
She nodded. “Handsome young man. He showed me these magic tricks for this afternoon. It was so impressive. My hands were sore from clapping.”
The idea of him performing magic tricks and impressing Beth made me melt, and not because of the heat. “That is wonderful,” I said.
“I told him he could do with an assistant and that Poppy would really like that, and he said he’d ask her. I wonder if he did.”
“But isn’t she going to perform with—no, wait, I suppose she could do both. Can’t she?”
“Yes, I’m sure it’s not a problem. A few years ago I performed twice. I played the keyboard, and I did a mime act. Not a lot of people joined that year, so they were happy to let me do two acts.”
“Y—you mimed?” I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
“Yes. I painted my whole face white, and I had one of those striped shirts on. I looked quite fetching.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“Ah, it was a while back. It was a year when lots of people went on holiday.”
“Maybe it was when Nancy took me through the south of England in that camper.”
“It could be,” she said. “Did you know that Alistair is terribly afraid of frogs?”
“Is he?” Why did that make me like him more?
“Mark was afraid of butterflies. Didn’t make any sense to me, but me being terrified of spiders didn’t make sense to him.” She smiled.
“Do you still miss him a lot?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. I mean, we argued like any couple and sometimes drove each other mad, I tell you, but he was the love of my life. Sometimes I’ll see or hear something that I know would have made him laugh, and I look at the spot where he would always sit to see his reaction. But of course, he’s not there.”
I touched her arm.
“But we had a good life together, we made such nice memories. That’s really what it’s all about, making nice memories. Experiencing things that make you happy. And one day I’ll be with him again, and all I would have to say is: thank you and I love you.”
I tried my best not to cry.
“We met at a party, and his friend was flirting with me. Then another guy bumped into me and spilled his drink all over my new dress. I had saved up months for that dress, I remember. The friend just laughed and then Mark, who had been on my other side, he just punched his friend.”
“Wow.”
“Yes. Afterwards Mark told me he had no idea what had come over him. Just that he felt the need to protect me. I guess he’s always felt that need. Just like I’ve always wanted to protect him.”
I really, really wanted a relationship like that.
After we chatted for a bit longer, I helped her water the plants in the garden and went on my way. The talent show would start in half an hour. Just as I was on my way over, I passed the vicarage and Harold wheeled over. “Maggie, sorry to have to ask, but could you help out in the cellar? We need to get the wine up in the church for tomorrow’s wine tasting, but Eleanor has been invited to have a drink with the girls after the talent show. Would you mind helping? There’s still about four crates left, but you don’t have to do them all, or at all, I mean, if you’re busy.”
I knew he meant it. He was not the sort to manipulate or guilt trip anyone, which is exactly why I wanted to help. I still had thirty minutes.
“Sure,” I said.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. You know how to access the cellar, right? Door in the far right corner. I’ll go ask for some more hands, I can’t let you do it all alone.” He was off before I could respond.
I headed around to the entrance of the church and stepped into the cool church. The benches had been moved and tables had been set up for the tasting tomorrow. Crates with wine were scattered throughout the room. The door in the back was already open. It was an old wooden door and stone steps coiled down to the dark and musty cellar. There was a lightbulb in the middle that provided some light, and the cellar itself was capacious and tidy with several pillars spread evenly throughout the space. The crate of wine was quite heavy, and it took me a lot of effort and sweat to get it up to the church. I returned for a second crate and was rummaging around, trying to get a good handle on it, when someone’s footfalls sounded behind me. I put the crate back down and turned around.
Something hard hit my face, pain spreading through my skull like a wave of needles, and I fell to the floor.