Chapter 20
A solid mass hit me in the chest, and I flew backward, crashing into Susannah. My legs gave way, and I hit the ground hard. Pain streaked up my arm and into my right knee. Susannah collapsed next to me with a scream. Directly in front of us, I could see two wheels climbing the sidewalk, coming to rest only feet from my legs. Before I could regain my senses and struggle to my feet, with another roar of an engine, the car backed up. Wheels spun, found purchase, and the vehicle hit the roadway.
And then, it was gone. As though it had never been there.
“Everyone okay?”
“Oh my gosh. What happened?”
Simon held out a hand, and I reached for it. Matt was bent over Susannah, asking her if she could stand. Simon had seen what was about to happen, shoved me out of the way, and I’d fallen against Susannah.
“Lunatic!” Bernie screamed into the night. “You could have killed someone.”
“I—I . . . ,” I said.
“I’m fine,” Susannah said. “What happened?”
“Good thing you’d stopped, buddy,” Matt said to Simon, as he helped Susannah to her feet. “When that car came around the corner so fast, with no lights, I figured something was going to happen, but I wouldn’t have gotten here in time.”
Simon dusted his jacket off. “All in a day’s work. You okay, Lily?” He put his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes. I blinked. It had all happened so fast.
“I think so.” I shifted my feet, and my right knee protested.
Bernie noticed my wince and said, “Are you hurt?”
“A bit sore where I hit the ground, but I’m okay.” I shook my head. When nothing fell out, I realized I’d been lucky. Luck, and Simon, had saved me.
Saved us. Susannah was sobbing quietly. Spots of blood dotted her cheeks where she’d fallen facefirst into the pavement. Bernie gathered her into her arms and held her. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Matt said. “You want to clean up.”
I became aware of a stinging sensation in my hands. I held them up in front of me. The right palm was deeply scratched and bleeding, and when I rolled my wrist, it hurt.
“Should we call the police?” Matt said.
“No point,” Susannah said. “He, whoever it was, will be long gone by the time they get here. Hopefully he gets himself home before he endangers anyone else. Rotten drunk.”
“I didn’t get the license plate,” Matt said. “Did anyone?”
“No,” Bernie said. “Dark car, a compact sedan, but I can’t say what make. And as it didn’t hit anyone—thanks to Simon and his quick thinking—there won’t be any damage the police can use to identify it. I’ve lost my appetite.”
Matt and Simon exchanged glances.
“What?” I said.
“You guys go back to the hotel,” Matt said. “I’ll go to the pub and tell them what happened. The person driving that car might have been leaving there, and they might know who it is, if it’s a regular. But . . .”
“But?”
Another look passed between Matt and Simon. This time Bernie joined in.
“But,” she said, “it might not have been an accident.”
“If not,” Simon said, “we do need to contact the police.”
Not an accident? Surely Simon wasn’t suggesting it had been a deliberate attack. On me? On Susannah?
“Does anyone have the detectives’ phone number on them?” Simon asked. “I can call 999, but it’s not an emergency. Thank goodness,” he added under his breath.
I dug DS Capretti’s card out of my bag, and while Matt ran to the pub on the corner, and Bernie shepherded me and Susannah down the road the way we came, Simon gave the detective a call. My nerves were on high alert, and I was aware of Bernie walking carefully, checking out every car that approached, listening for the sound of stealthy footsteps behind the walls and hedges.
Simon caught up to us as we reached the entrance to the hotel. “She’s on her way. I told her it might have been an out-of-control drunk driver, but it also might have been a more calculated attempt.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Bernie said. “The way they drove didn’t indicate any diminished driving ability to me. Reversed in a straight line, spun the wheels, and took off in another straight line. Around the corner and gone. Lily and Susannah need to wash up and take a moment to breathe. I’ll take them to your room and meet you in the bar.”
Simon touched my arm telling me to hang back. “I’ll be with you in a sec,” I said to Bernie. She gave me a nod and accompanied Susannah inside. Simon put his hands on my arms and looked into my face. “You are okay, Lily? You’re not just putting up a brave front?”
I smiled at him bravely. “I’ll have a mighty sore knee tomorrow, but nothing more serious than that.”
“I—I don’t know what I’d do if—how I’d manage if—if things had gone the other way.”
“But they didn’t,” I said. At least I think that’s what I said. I couldn’t really hear it over the pounding of my heart.
“Lily, I—”
“Simon, I—”
“Evening all.” I jumped out of my skin, as a couple came out of the hotel. “Winter’s on its way, I fear. Have a nice evening.”
“You go with Bernie,” Simon said to me. “Get cleaned up, and catch your breath. I’ll tell the receptionist the police have been called and where they can find me. Let’s talk later, okay. When all this dies down.”
“Later,” I said.
When I reached my room, I found a pale and shaking Susannah sitting on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. She or Bernie had wiped most of the gravel off her face and hands, scrubbed her face, and tidied her hair.
I went into the bathroom and washed my own face and hands. The blood from the scratches on my hand had stopped already and the marks on my face were just tiny pinpricks. The knee of my favorite jeans was filthy and in shreds. Very fashionable, I told myself.
When I emerged from the bathroom, carrying my jeans in a crumpled ball, Susannah was on the phone. Her voice, I was pleased to hear, was steady, and she’d stopped shaking. “I changed my mind and decided not to go to the pub after all,” she said. “I’m at the hotel. Text me when you get here. Love you.”
She put away her phone and gave us a weak attempt at a smile. “I’m fine now. Thank you.”
“Why don’t you take a moment to wash up?” Bernie said. “And then I’ll take you to your room, if you want.”
Susannah stood up. “My husband’ll be here in about half an hour. What I need now is a good stiff drink. It’s not true, what they say. Your life doesn’t flash before you.” Her laugh was strained. “I don’t recall thinking of anything at all. It happened so fast.”
She went into the bathroom, and I searched for another pair of pants.
“You think—?” I began.
Bernie nodded toward the closed door. “Let’s wait until we’re all together. But yes, I think.”
When we were once again ready to be seen in public, we headed for the hotel bar. We found Tony sitting with Matt and Simon, and he jumped to his feet when we walked in. He ran to his sister and wrapped his arms around her. “These guys told me what happened. Are you okay, Susie?”
She pulled herself out of the embrace and smiled at him. “I’m fine. Really. Ray’ll be here soon.”
“As we’re missing dinner,” Simon said as we pulled chairs up and took seats, “I took the liberty of ordering bar snacks.”
“This round’s on me,” Tony said. “What can I get everyone?”
We gave him our orders and he went to talk to the bartender.
“I spoke to the guys behind the bar at the pub,” Matt said. “They said it’s been a quiet night, and no one left who appeared to be excessively intoxicated. I couldn’t give them a useful description of the car and none at all of the driver, so that didn’t help.”
Tony and the bartender brought our drinks, and when they’d been passed around, we raised our glasses and said, “Cheers.”
“Beth told me these guys called the cops,” Tony said to his sister. “The last thing we need is more police activity around here, but Matt and Simon are suggesting it might not have been a drunk driver losing control.”
“What else could it be?” Susannah said with a nervous laugh. “I don’t have any enemies. The mob is unlikely to have put a hit out on me.”
“Are you sure they were aiming at you?” Bernie said. “Lily was directly in the path, too.”
“I don’t have enemies, either,” I protested.
“Don’t you? You’ve been investigating the two crimes that happened here this weekend. Maybe you’re getting too close.”
“Investigating?” Tony said. “What does that mean? Are you a cop?”
“She’s an amateur sleuth,” Bernie said.
Simon groaned.
“I’m nothing of the sort,” I said, “I’m a pastry chef on vacation.”
A waiter arrived with heaped platters of finger food, side dishes, and napkins, and we obligingly moved our glasses out of the way to make room.
“You have been asking questions,” Bernie reminded me.
“So have you,” I said.
“Maybe I’m just more subtle than you. No, Lily, this time you’ve taken the lead. Not me.”
“This time?” Tony and Susannah said.
I picked up a crostini and thought. I had been asking questions. I’d talked at length to Ian about who had access to the coronation chicken sandwiches. I’d gone to Alicia Boyle’s office yesterday. I’d asked Josh Hansen about his relationship with Julien. I’d spied on Carmela waylaying Tony outside the bank. I’d followed Emma to the castle and encouraged her to confide in me about her financial troubles. I’d been with Elizabeth when she discovered the Frockmorton Sapphires were missing, and I’d met with a former jewel fence.
Had I been observed Saturday night listening to Julien and Jacqueline discuss having their grandmother declared incompetent?
I put down the crostini. I’d lost my appetite once again.
“Here she is now,” Tony said.
DS Capretti came into the bar. She pulled up a chair and squeezed between Susannah and Bernie.
“Can I get you anything, Detective Sergeant?” Tony asked.
“Orange juice wouldn’t come amiss.”
Tony didn’t bother to go and get it. He called across the room to the bartender.
“Which one of you called me?” Capretti asked.
“I did,” Simon said. “I’m Simon McCracken, and Lily gave me your card.”
She got straight to the point. “On the phone, you said someone tried to run you down earlier. You have reason to think it wasn’t an accident?”
“I do. We do.” Simon told her what happened earlier. He emphasized that the car’s lights were not on, that the driver appeared to be deliberately heading straight for Susannah and me, and then drove away without stopping to check if anyone had been hurt.
“Surely not,” Tony said. “It had to have been a drunk driver, in shock when he realized what he’d done. Almost done. If not that, maybe a kid without a driver’s license who stole his dad’s car and went on a joy ride.”
“Those are possibilities,” Matt said. “However, we’ve talked it over and we have reason to believe it was deliberate.”
“And you are?” Capretti asked.
Matt introduced himself as Rose’s and my neighbor. He didn’t mention he was a true-crime writer or that he was in England researching a book. If he’d done that, Capretti would possibly leap to the conclusion he was making stuff up.
“I can’t get over what you’re saying. You actually think someone tried to kill my sister?” Tony reached out and put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She reached up and touched his hand briefly and gave him a brave smile.
“Her or Lily,” Matt said. “Kill or frighten. He, or she, didn’t try to have another go. Just backed up and took off.”
Tony stood up. He paced up and down the long narrow room, fists clenched. A couple of men stood at the bar with their beer, too far away to hear what we were talking about, but the people at nearby tables were trying to look as though they were not listening.
“Even if they were only trying to frighten you,” Tony said when he came back, “it could easily have gone wrong. A car is not a toy, and even the best driver can make mistakes in the moment and in the dark.”
“It’s particularly dark at that spot,” Matt said. “Immediately before the road takes a bend at the White Hart.”
“Sit down, Tony,” Susannah said. “I’m perfectly okay, as you can see.”
“What if they try again?”
“Do you have reason to think they might?” Capretti asked.
He dropped into his chair. “No. I mean, I don’t know who would do such a thing in the first place. Not towards Susannah, at any rate. They had to be after her.” Tony pointed at me. “You’re here with your grandmother. She and Granny are getting on like a house on fire, but maybe it’s time for you to leave.”
“You can’t chuck us out,” Simon said.
“I’m not—”
“Can anyone describe this vehicle?” Capretti asked.
We offered what limited description we could. “Sedan. Small. Dark color.”
“Did you see if anyone was with the driver?”
My friends and I looked at each other. We shook our heads in unison.
“It all happened so quickly,” Bernie said. “I heard the car coming and saw it take the corner far too fast. I turned around to check on Lily, not paying much attention to the car itself. You should be thanking Simon for saving your sister, Tony, rather than throwing him out. Simon moved fast and knocked Susannah and Lily out of the way.”
Tony stood up. He held out his hand. “Yeah, I should do that. Thanks, mate. My sister means the world to me.”
Simon got to his feet and shook. “I’m glad I was there.”
Susannah looked at her brother, and the smile she gave him was warm and full of affection. “And you mean the world to me, brother dear, but not as much as my husband and children, and I suspect that’s Ray buzzing me now to say he’s arrived. If you don’t need me any more, DS Capretti, I’d like some quiet time with my husband.”
“Do you have any reason to believe anyone might have wanted to either kill or frighten you, Mrs. Reilly?” the detective said.
“Absolutely not. I’m a secretary in a law office, not an undercover agent with MI5. Like everyone else around here, I’ve been wracking my brains trying to remember if I saw anything that might indicate what happened to Julien or to the sapphires, and I come up completely blank.”
“Good night, then,” Capretti said. “As for you, Ms. Roberts, I’m reminded that the police in your town say you sometimes get involved in things that don’t concern you.”
“I’ll admit we meaning Bernie and my grandmother and I, have been interested in what happened here. We’ve spoken to a few people. None of that has led to me having a clue. Both the death of Julien and the theft or disappearance of the sapphires are as much mysteries to me as they are to you.”
“Assuming it remains a mystery to you, Detective,” Matt said.
Capretti sipped her orange juice. “Interested in mysteries, are you Mr. Goodwill? Or should I say Mr. Lincoln Badwell?”
“I see my fame has preceded me.”
“It has. As has the fact that you’ve been talking extensively to Dennis Pembroke, retired DI, and not only him but some of the old time lads who gather over more than a few pints to fondly remember their light-fingered days.”
“A matter of public record, which has nothing to do with what happened here earlier.”
“What are they talking about?” Tony asked Bernie.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Capretti put down her empty glass. “I wouldn’t normally let myself be called out at suppertime for a motor vehicle incident which resulted in no casualties and no damage, but I find this of considerable interest in light of what went on here recently and what Ms. Roberts and the rest of you have been doing about it.”
“You don’t think it was aimed at Susannah?” Tony said with a noticeable sigh of relief.
“That remains a possibility. We still don’t know why someone murdered her cousin, do we? Before I leave, I’d like a chat, Ms. Roberts. In private.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. If you know something that might have inspired someone to threaten you, I’d like to hear about it.”
“Now?”
“Either now, in this hotel, or now down at the station.”
I stood up. “Okay.”
Simon also got to his feet. “I’ll come.”
“That’s not necessary,” Capretti said. “We’re just having a little chat. If I have reason to ask Ms. Roberts to leave the hotel, I’ll let you know.”
He threw a questioning look at me. “It’s okay,” I said, and he slowly sat back down, not looking entirely convinced.
Before we could move, Carmela and Jacqueline came in.
“Tony, what’s happening?” Jacqueline said. “I passed Ray Reilly in the hallway, and he asked me if Susannah is all right. Why would she not be?” She looked at DS Capretti. “Why are you here at this time of night? What’s going on?”
“Do you have an update?” Carmela asked. “Have you arrested someone for killing my husband?”
“Routine questions,” Capretti said.
“Susannah’s fine,” Tony said. “I don’t want to talk about it. Detective Sergeant, I’ll find a place where you can talk in some privacy to Ms. Roberts.”
“Why’s she interviewing her?” Jacqueline asked. “Again.”
“Don’t rush off, Tony,” Carmela said. “Stay and have another drink. For old times’ sake?”
“No,” he said.