Two weeks later, Shilpa had just finished icing a two-tiered caramel buttercream sponge which she was due to take down to Leoni’s when her phone buzzed. It was Tanvi, full of excitement about her move to Devon. Shilpa could sense that underneath the bravado, Tanvi was scared. She had never done something like this before for a man. Everything had always been on her terms, but with Brijesh, it was different. He was shy and quiet and easily embarrassed, and Tanvi was constantly making him blush, but he had a certain power over her friend. Maybe he had tamed her. Any feminist would have shot her down for saying that, but Shilpa knew Tanvi was still Tanvi; she was just calmer, and she was definitely happier, from what she could see.
Shilpa looked over at the plinth above the oven where her new tidal clock stood proud. Brijesh had arrived home earlier with it as a present ‘for putting up with him’, he had said. He said it was simple to use, but she still hadn’t figured it out. Secretly, she didn’t want to know what the tide was doing. Every time she looked through her bifold doors, she didn’t know whether to expect the water or the sludge of the estuary floor. She liked that kind of unknowing. It rarely messed with her plans and reminded her that nature did its own thing, with or without human interference.
She smiled at the clock. It reminded her of Brijesh’s sweet nature, his need for order and for knowing. She adored Brijesh, and she was glad her friend had found him.
In a magnetic clip on her oven was a picture of a baby. An old picture with the date 1965 scribbled behind it in an unknown hand. It was the picture that had been missing from Roy Arden’s journal. She had found it a few days ago while rummaging in her bag for something else. It must have fallen out of the journal and into her bag when Caroline gave her the notebook. She had put it on the oven hoping it would help her solve who exactly the baby was, but it didn’t, and it haunted her because it felt like there was still a piece of the puzzle to solve. She unclipped the photo and looked at it.
Then she noticed something she hadn’t seen before. The baby had a small heart-shaped birthmark on the inside of its left wrist. She had previously mistaken it for a water stain, but on closer inspection, it was definitely a birthmark. Shilpa thought back to the people involved in Roy and Caroline’s deaths. She couldn’t recall such a mark on any of her suspects, but then she had never really looked.
She put the photo in her handbag on the counter, planning to ask Leoni if she knew anyone with such a mark, then she turned her attention to other matters.
Tanvi and Brijesh’s winter trip to India was back on, and in between talking about Tanvi’s move to Devon, most of their conversations were taken up with that. Brijesh wanted to travel to the north of India while they were there, but Tanvi wanted to stay in Goa, enjoy the beaches and the infamous parties. They had, of course, invited Shilpa along, but there was no way that Shilpa was going to tag along as the single friend. ‘Bring a friend,’ Tanvi had said to her pointedly.
Shilpa absentmindedly opened the gallery on her phone and scrolled through her photos. There was one of Robin and her at Start Point. It had been a windy day, and they had walked along the South West Coast Path near the dramatic cliffs to the lighthouse and then had ventured to Beesands, where they shared a bottle of wine and a seafood pancake at the pub. It had been a perfect day, and Robin had told her of his plans to extend his stay in South Devon. The article he had written had been a success. He was getting quite a few more commissions and money was okay, he had explained. It was never good in journalism anymore, not when everyone expected to read the news for free online.
The photography of the estuary and its surrounds was taking off, and Robin had a contact in London who owned a gallery. With his photography and a ready place to sell his work, Robin was making more than enough to live a simple life for a year or two in South Devon. It seemed that more and more people who didn’t live close to the water wanted to be reminded of it, and his friend said he had a certain talent for capturing the authenticity of a place.
Robin had sipped his cider on the bench outside Jasmine Cottage as he had told her of his plans to do a series of the changing landscape of the estuary over the winter months.
‘Hasn’t it been done to death?’ she had asked, once again regretting her cynicism, but the words had left her mouth before she could think.
‘It has here,’ he had said, gesturing with his hands towards the town. Shilpa knew there were a couple of shops selling original prints of the seascape and estuary. ‘But London hasn’t seen all that much of it. If you want any of the good stuff, you need to come down here for it, and not everyone gets the chance to get away.’
Shilpa had nodded and not said much else; she was just grateful that Robin was sticking around because she wanted to get to know him better. She put her phone in her bag and placed the freshly iced cake into a Sweet Treats box. She slipped on her navy velvet ballerina pumps with a Pegasus embroidered on each toe and headed to the door with the cake, a smile on her lips. She was meeting Robin tonight. Maybe she would broach the subject of winter sun with him then.
‘You’ve been so busy,’ Leoni said as Shilpa placed the boxed cake on the counter. ‘Stay for a drink, on me. Let’s have a catch-up, pet.’
‘Okay,’ Shilpa conceded. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do. Her deliveries at Mermaid Point were two days away, and there were very few orders in the diary. Late October was always slow, as people adjusted back into the routine of school, university and work. Last year she had taken a few weeks off and gone back home. She wondered if she should do the same again this year, but this year Robin was around. She smiled to herself as Leoni pointed to the table at the front of the café overlooking the main square.
Their usual booth at the back of the café was taken, but Shilpa didn’t mind. With Roy Arden’s murder finally solved, she had a clear mind and was happy to people watch.
‘You did it again,’ Leoni said, putting down a hot chocolate in front of her. It was laden with whipped cream and mini marshmallows.
‘Leoni,’ she scolded, but her friend had read her mind. It was just what she felt like. After Roy Arden’s death, she hadn’t given her well-being much thought, and this would do her wonders.
‘I’m surprised she fessed up,’ Leoni said. ‘She was old, wasn’t she? Not quite Roy Arden’s age, but still. Prison won’t be kind to her.’
‘Maybe she’ll get a suspended sentence,’ Shilpa said, a little uneasy.
‘I thought that once the coroner rules the death as accidental at an inquest, that was the end of it.’
Shilpa explained that the Crown Prosecution Service could reopen a case if they had sufficient evidence. In this instance, they had a confession. Patricia had been overcome with guilt when Shilpa told her that Martin wasn’t sure whether or not he saw his brother push her sister off the cliff. What Shilpa had said had struck a chord; Patricia would have been no better than Roy if she had got away with it.
‘It was good you stuck with it,’ Leoni said. Shilpa clarified that she hadn’t known whether or not Roy Arden’s death had been accidental or unlawful when she started looking into it, but she had believed Caroline when she said that her father had been murdered.
‘I wouldn’t call it an investigation though,’ Shilpa said as Leoni patted her hand. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of last summer, when her name was splashed across the local papers for the part she played in solving Mason Connolly’s murder. ‘I only figured it out when I read Robin’s article.’ Shilpa looked through the window and chewed her bottom lip. She didn’t tell Leoni that she was now having doubts as to whether Patricia Burton had killed Roy Arden. The thought of having incorrectly accused someone who was innocent sat like a lead weight in her stomach. But she confessed, Shilpa kept reminding herself. Patricia had confessed. Shilpa turned back to Leoni and gave her friend a small smile.
‘Teamwork then,’ Leoni said with a wink. Leoni was determined to get her friend into a relationship. ‘Call it what you want. That’s two murderers you’ve gotten off our streets. Three, maybe four if you count your old neighbours.’
Shilpa shrugged. ‘Let’s not bring that up again.’ She looked out of the café window once more. This time she saw two women standing outside the Hub. ‘That’s the art class,’ she said to Leoni.
‘Like clockwork,’ her friend said. ‘They must have just finished.’
‘So what did happen to Caroline?’ Leoni said. ‘Was it really a case of mistaken identity?’
‘Sorry?’
‘The mushroom, was it really a lilac fibre-whatsamacallit or one of those other ones that you can eat?’
‘They think it was a genuine mistake.’
‘Well, that family are lucky that only Caroline liked mushrooms. Otherwise it would have ended up like a Greek tragedy, wouldn’t it, pet?’
That was exactly what Tanvi had said when Shilpa had started investigating Roy Arden’s death. Shilpa stood up and looked towards the Hub again. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said. ‘There’s someone I’ve got to see.’
‘You haven’t touched your hot…’ Leoni started but Shilpa couldn’t afford to hang around. She left the café and sprinted across the square to the entrance of the Hub, her eyes searching for a familiar face. Nothing. She stepped inside and saw the art teacher with a shock of pink hair standing behind a desk, writing something in a notebook.
‘Excuse me,’ she said.
‘Can I help you?’ asked the pink-haired woman, who was wearing denim dungarees covered with paint spatters.
Shilpa adjusted her handbag. ‘I was thinking of taking one of your classes,’ she said.
‘This one? I’m afraid I’m fully booked into the new year, but I do have slots on a Thursday morning. Hang on,’ she said. ‘Let me nip to the car and get my schedule. I left my flyers in the boot. We have several spaces on Thursday morning. Maybe you could bring a friend.’
The instructor walked off towards the public car park while Shilpa looked around. There were two women talking animatedly about their children’s homework but no sign of the person she was after. Then, through the window she saw the artist open the boot of her car. Shilpa quickly slid behind the desk. She picked up the notebook, hoping it contained what she was after. A smile rose to her lips as she realised it was a register for the class. She flipped the pages back until she found the date she was looking for. The day she had been run off the road as she turned onto the track for Caroline’s house.
Julia Arden’s name had been registered every week except for that day. The day Martin had clearly said she had attended the class. He had made a point of it, and that was what had troubled Shilpa after Patricia had been arrested and charged for Roy Arden’s murder. Patricia had confessed to one crime, so why not Caroline’s murder?
Shilpa hadn’t told anyone yet, but she had seen Geoffrey at Glass Bay Police Station when Patricia had been taken into custody. He had told her to get away from him and then looked her straight in the eye and told her that his wife had nothing to do with Roy Arden’s murder. ‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ he had hissed at her with a venomous stare. ‘You just want the glory. You don’t care whose lives you ruin in the process.’ Shilpa had been taken aback. Had she got it all wrong? But Patricia had confessed, she told herself, and it was then that she started thinking of why Patricia would do something like that.
Shilpa had driven home that day not knowing what to believe. Brijesh had been quick to point out that Patricia could have believed that one punishment was enough to cover both murders, but Shilpa was starting to think there was some truth in what Geoffrey had told her, that perhaps Patricia hadn’t killed Roy Arden after all.
Last week the coroner ruled that Caroline’s death was accidental. But the coroner had also ruled her father’s death accidental and that since had been overturned. The verdict didn’t sit well with Shilpa, but her hands were tied. She didn’t know where else to go with her suspicions.
She had called the police to see if they had any leads on the car that had run her off the road the day she had decided to visit her friend, the day she now believed was the same day that Caroline consumed the deadly mushrooms. The police didn’t have anything for her, and Shilpa was convinced that her report had gone to the bottom of the pile. Driving erratically was certainly dangerous, but no one had died – she hadn’t even been injured – and her car was miraculously fine too, save for a few scratches, so it was hardly going to be top priority for the police. Shilpa had talked to Tanvi, Brijesh and Robin about it, and each of them had told her to give it up. ‘You caught one killer,’ Robin had said. ‘Just accept that Caroline’s death was accidental. It happens. You said it yourself, even the experts can get it wrong.’
Shilpa had just about given up on justice for Caroline, but then at Leoni’s, seeing the two women with their folios brought back the conversation she had had with Martin. With everything that had happened with Patricia, she had forgotten Julia’s attempt to attack her with a knife, which had later been passed off as a misunderstanding.
Now, looking at the art class register, Shilpa was certain that when Julia had approached her with a knife that day, she had intended to harm her.