Chapter Eighteen

Keeley felt the pit of her stomach go icy cold. She looked down at Suzy lying unmoving on the floor, praying she was going to be all right. Where the hell was Ben? Or Megan? Surely she must be nearly back from Matlock. Or for that matter, Raquel. It had been the diner’s proprietor who had phoned both her and Suzy after all.

Or been made to. She looked at Christian and felt sick.

“What have you done to Raquel?”

“What makes you think I’ve done anything to her?”

“She phoned me and Suzy to get us here, so you must have made her do that.”

Christian offered her an indulgent smile.

“Still detecting, are we? Maybe you’re right, or maybe you’re wrong. How do you know me and Raquel aren’t in it together?”

Keeley thought about that, and would have laughed if the situation hadn’t in reality been as far from funny as it was possible to get.

“Because she would be here if that was the case. There’s no way that Raquel would miss the grand finale in her own establishment, or let you take all the credit.”

Christian looked delighted.

“How insightful. And I thought you were just some dippy yoga teacher, I couldn’t understand why everyone seemed to hold you in such esteem. Perhaps I underestimated you. So, Miss Clever-Clogs, why don’t you tell me why I killed Gerald.”

Because you’re batshit crazy, Keeley thought. “I have no idea. Why don’t you tell me?” If she could just keep him talking until either Ben or Megan got here, she might just be okay … She tried not to look at the crumpled form of Suzy on the floor.

Christian shook his head, his fringe flopping into his eyes. He brushed it back, smirking again in a way that made his face look almost rodent-like. How could she have ever thought he was handsome?

“No, that won’t do. I want you to work it out. It can be the last case you solve,” he said casually, so that it took a few moments for the full impact of his words to hit her. He meant to kill her. Fighting the surge of terror that made her want to scream, she inhaled deeply through her nose, willing herself to keep calm. He wanted to talk, to play games with her, that was good, and there was no sign of a weapon on him, so she had a chance of getting away.

As if in answer to her thought Christian reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out a small, thin object, his eyes not leaving hers. With a sinking feeling in her gut, she knew what it was before she looked.

The scalpel.

He tossed it around in his hand almost nonchalantly, and its blade caught the light and glittered, transfixing Keeley. She felt her breath growing shallow and forced her eyes back to Christian’s face.

“Well?” he said, impatiently. For a moment she couldn’t recall what it was he had asked her. Gerald. He wanted her to figure out why he had killed Gerald.

“Because of the art festival?” she ventured. Christian gave a snort of derision.

“Although I think he was a complete and utter toad for voting to cut the funding, I wouldn’t commit murder over it. Come on now, Keeley, you can do better than that.”

Keeley thought, hard, going through everything she had already found out, but nothing made any sense.

“It’s something to do with his past, his womanizing,” she offered, surprised when Christian nodded and looked suddenly angry. She flinched at his expression, then understood the anger hadn’t been for her.

“Very good. That’s right. So, what’s my link?”

Keeley studied Christian’s features carefully, looking for any resemblance to the unfortunate mayor. He could be another secret love child perhaps, one that no one yet knew about.

“He’s your father?”

Again, the flash of anger, but he shook his head with vehemence.

“Close, but not quite. You’re being too obvious, Keeley.”

Keeley frowned. How could it be close? His uncle, maybe? Then a snippet of a conversation she had had with Megan came back to her. “Christian had a sister.” Had, not has. And Gerald’s daughter had died at the age of fourteen.

“Your sister,” she said. Christian went pale at her response, then nodded.

“Gerald was her father?”

Christian’s hands balled into fists at his side, the scalpel gripped tight. She tried not to look at it.

“You blame him for her death,” she said quietly. A look of pure, heartfelt anguish crossed his face at her words, and she couldn’t help a stab of sympathy, though it quickly dissipated. She would have felt a lot more pity for him if he hadn’t just bopped Suzy over the head with an urn and then threatened to kill Keeley herself.

“He was to blame,” Christian snarled, looking even more rodent-like. “Lydia was a beautiful, good girl, two years older than me. I worshipped her. Dad died when we were kids, and Mum pretty much fell apart for a while. Lydia kept us together. Then when she was thirteen she found out our dad wasn’t actually her dad, and that her real father wanted nothing to do with her. He had been sending Mum money every month on the condition that she never sought contact with him. She went off the rails after that, started hanging around with a bad crowd, and she died after getting into a stolen car. Mum remarried, and it was like I wasn’t there, and after a few years it was almost like she had forgotten Lydia. I never did.”

Keeley couldn’t help but feel another flash of empathy.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Keeley said, genuinely. She knew how it felt, to lose a father and be left with a mother who was less than nurturing. Still, it hadn’t made her want to go around killing people.

But he had lost a sister as well. Grief could do funny things to people. She clung to that bit of sympathy, however fleeting, trying to convey it in her expression. Perhaps if he thought she understood, he might be less inclined to kill her.

“It must have been awful. I lost my father, and I still miss him every day.”

Christian nodded. “I miss mine. And Lydia; I miss her so much. She was so pretty; you’ve seen her picture.”

“I have?” Then Keeley remembered the sketch that had fallen out of Suzy’s portfolio. That was why Christian had looked odd when she had given it back. Suzy hadn’t been the creator; he had.

“You did that portrait.” That was also, she realized, why the girl had looked familiar; she looked like Gerald.

“Yes. So you understand. You understand why I had to kill him. But now it’s all gotten out of hand. I’m sorry, Keeley.” He made to step toward her, the hand with the scalpel rising. Keeley jumped back.

“Wait,” she said, her voice coming out as a terrified squeak, “you haven’t told me the rest.”

Christian stopped, looking confused. “The rest?”

“Why you waited until now to kill him?” Keeley was talking fast, trying to stall him, and sure he would see through her ploy, but to her relief he lowered his hand and relaxed his posture. She looked over his shoulder at the door. In moving nearer to her he had moved away from the entrance, leaving a gap between it and him. If she could run around the table without him catching her, she might just have a chance, but it was a slim one.

“I only found out a few weeks ago who he was,” Christian explained. “I saw his picture in the Amber Valley Telegraph and the angle of the photo … he looked just like her. I went through my mum’s things and found old photos of her at parties. He was in them. They were never together, of course, but the fact they had known each other at the right time, and then the resemblance … I asked her and she admitted it. She said it was time to let the past rest.” Christian shook his head, angry tears in his eyes. “How could she? Lydia died because of him.” He stopped speaking, his eyes unfocused.

“So you planned to kill him?” Keeley tried to keep her tone light and interested, admiring even. To keep him talking, and keep him calm.

“No. But I wanted to. Then Suzy mentioned wanting to come for the art festival and having a friend she could stay with. I didn’t definitely plan to kill him, not at first, or I knew I wanted to but I didn’t know how. Then I was here when he and Raquel argued outside, and I saw a chance.”

Keeley nodded. “I understand. So you went round to his house?”

“It was perfect. I had spoken to Raquel, knew she was home alone and that Gerald would likely be alone as he had gotten rid of Edna. So I took Suzy’s scalpel, donned a wig and long coat I still had in my case from my days doing performing arts at college, and paid the mayor a little visit.” He finished his recounting, sounding triumphant.

A wig, Keeley thought, that explained Tom’s sighting.

“So what about Edna? What had she ever done to you?”

“I heard you talking to Megan, just after you had been to see her; I was about to come in the back door. She had told you about Lydia. I didn’t know how much the woman knew about our family, or what she might have told the police. I had to get rid of her. I wanted to silence you and Megan too, especially you, with your reputation for snooping.”

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Keeley felt stung at being referred to as a snoop.

“But you didn’t.”

“Well,” Christian shrugged, “I couldn’t just kill everyone could I? It would have started to look suspicious.” There was no apparent irony in his tone.

“So what about now? Me, Suzy, Raquel? All at once? That looks a little suspicious, don’t you think?”

Christian grinned at her. “You would think so, wouldn’t you? Except, it’s not going to be me that gets the blame. Suzy here,” he motioned toward the unconscious body of his girlfriend, “is going to kill you and Raquel both, and then slit her own wrists with the scalpel. Very poetic, don’t you think?”

He might just get away with it too, Keeley thought with fresh horror, if he managed to carry out his plan and get away before Ben and Megan arrived. Dammit, Ben, look at your bloody phone! She was running out of ways to stall him.

“Raquel’s still alive then,” she said, replaying his words in her head. “You said, going to kill.”

“So I did,” Christian shrugged. “She’s around. In the basement, to be exact. I didn’t have time to deal with her before you and Suzy turned up, and of course I needed her to make the call. None of this will take me long, don’t worry. Speaking of which…” He actually winked at her as he moved toward her purposefully, once again raising the scalpel.

Keeley ran for it. Darting around the other side of the table she made a run for the door, only to feel him grab her arm and spin her to face him, the scalpel raised high overhead. Keeley kicked him, hard, but he only grunted in pain and gripped her tighter. She twisted desperately out of the way of the now descending scalpel, then fell to the side as he suddenly let go of her.

A clearly not unconscious Suzy had jumped on him from behind, her hands going for his eyes, and Christian staggered around, flailing with the scalpel, trying to throw her off. Just as Keeley righted herself Christian threw her into a nearby table. He still had the scalpel in his hand, and he turned on Suzy, his face a mask of rage. Keeley leapt at him, only to be knocked flying by the back of his hand. She crashed into the wall, the pain of the impact taking her breath, and she screamed in part fear, part rage as she saw him go for Suzy’s throat with the scalpel.

Just as the door flew open and Ben came through it at speed, rugby tackling Christian from behind and throwing him to the floor. The scalpel flew out of his hand and landed on the floor. Suzy made a grab for it, cradling it to her like a baby. She locked eyes with Keeley, who had sunk to her knees with relief as Ben wrenched Christian’s hands behind his back and handcuffed him.

“Thank you,” Keeley said.

“Well, I wasn’t going to let him kill anyone else with my own tools,” said Suzy with a weak grin. They both looked at Ben, who was hauling a now sobbing Christian to his feet. Ben looked at Keeley with an unreadable expression.

“What on earth is going on?”

“It was him,” said Keeley, feeling a sudden urge to giggle. It must be shock. Suzy waved the scalpel in the air. “And that’s the murder weapon,” she added.

Ben just stared.

“Keeley Carpenter,” he said with something akin to wonder, “you never fail to amaze me.”

NATRAJASANA—LYING TWIST

A gentle but powerful relaxing pose, often used toward the end of practice, or any time you are feeling stiff and/or in need of relaxation.

Method

• Lie on your back with arms horizontally stretched out in line with the shoulders. Bend your knees and bring your feet close to your hips. The soles of the feet should be fully on the ground.

• Swing the knees to the left until the left knee touches the ground (the right knee and thigh are resting on the left knee and thigh). Simultaneously, turn the head to the right and look at your right palm.

• Make sure your shoulder blades are touching the ground. While the body is twisted, there is a tendency for one of the shoulder blades to get lifted off the ground. One must work against this tendency for the stretch to be effective.

• Feel the stretch in the thighs, groin, arms, neck, stomach, and back as you hold the pose. With each exhalation, relax deeper into the pose.

• After a few minutes, you may slowly turn the head back to the center, and straighten the torso and legs. Mirror the pose on the other side.

Benefits

Benefits of this pose include a powerful stretch for the spine and hips, the release of tension in the neck, back, and shoulders, improved digestion, and a sense of deep relaxation. Provides stress relief and lowers blood pressure.

Contraindications

Avoid if you have low blood pressure or have had any spinal or back injuries.