“Andee, great you’re here,” Fliss declared, rushing over to greet her as soon as Andee came into the Seafront Café.
“I got here as soon as I could,” Andee told her, stuffing an umbrella into the stand and unraveling her scarf. “Is everything OK? It sounded urgent when you rang.”
“I think it is,” Fliss replied, and gestured for her to go through the café to the back. “There’s someone in the office you need to talk to.”
After winding through the tables and greeting those she knew, Andee pushed open the kitchen door and continued on past the cooks to the large room beyond, where Fliss’s desk, computer, and file cabinets fought for space among bulk packs of toilet rolls, coffee, flour, cooking oil, and any number of culinary products.
Sitting on a spindle-backed chair in front of the desk and hunched in against a shelf of paper napkins was a tiny scrap of a woman whom Andee recognized, but struggled to place.
“This is Maria,” Fliss reminded her. “She used to work here.”
Andee nodded, recalling now how this nervy little woman, had slammed out of the café sometime last summer, following an altercation in the kitchen. “Hello, Maria,” she said kindly, sitting on the chair Fliss put behind her. “Fliss tells me you’re upset about something. Is it anything I can help with?”
The woman’s ruddy, pixyish face twitched slightly as she looked first at Andee, then at Fliss.
“Nothing bad’s going to happen to you,” Fliss assured her. “Just tell Andee what you told me.”
Maria’s frightened eyes returned to Andee and a moment later, in words altered by a strong speech impediment, she said, “I ’ad t’come. I couldn’t go on . . . Is wrong and my duty to speak up.”
“About what?” Andee prompted.
“About th’ lady. Th’ one who nearly die in that fy-ah.”
Realizing she meant “fire,” Andee became very still. “What do you know about that?” she asked carefully.
“I know who do it,” Maria cried wretchedly, “and they goin’ to get him for not doing it right.”
Andee said, “Who are we talking about, Maria?”
“My boy. My Archie. He set ligh’ to the ’ouse, but he dinnow she in there. I swear. They made him do it. They say bad things happen to me if he don’. They always do that to him. He a good boy. He care for his mum, but he shouldn’t set fy-ah to that house. Those who made him do it comin’ after him. They’re goin’ to kill him, my boy, and I can’t let ’em do that.”
Andee glanced at Fliss before saying, “I need to be sure about this, Maria. Your son Archie is responsible for the fire at the coach house on Westleigh Heights?”
“Thass wha’ I say. Is him who do it, ’cos they made him.”
“Who are they?”
Maria recoiled. “No tell tha’,” she cried, her poor tongue mangling the words so badly they were almost impossible to understand. “I juss want keep ma boy way from them.”
Realizing that she must have decided he’d be safer in custody than out on the streets, Andee said, “Where is he now?”
“At ’ome. He there when I leff.”
“Does he know you were coming to talk to Fliss?”
Maria shook her head so fast and so agitatedly that Andee put out a hand to steady her. “You did right to tell Fliss,” she said gently, “and you understand that I now have to contact the police?”
Maria wailed and nodded and bunched her fists to her mouth as she started to choke.
“I’ll take care of her,” Fliss said quietly. “You go and do what you have to do.”
Getting to her feet, Andee touched a hand to Maria’s wispy fair hair. Life really hadn’t showered this wretched little creature with blessings, and now here she was in the middle of even more horror than she could properly cope with. “I’ll be back soon and we can talk some more,” she promised.
Maria nodded, but didn’t look up until Andee reached the door. “Will I eff to talk to cops too?” she asked woefully.
Andee nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
Maria howled with alarm and buried her face again in her hands as Andee let herself out of the room.
Immediately after calling Gould she rang Leanne to warn her that an arrest was likely by the end of the day. “Do you know where Claudia is?” she asked.
“Yes, she’s just come back from the hospital. Don’t worry, I’ll break it to her and stay with her if she wants me to. Where are you?”
“At the Seafront Café. Gould’s on his way to talk to Maria so I’m going to stay.” After ringing off she was about to go back inside when Dan called.
“Hi, I’m wondering if we can put our meeting back half an hour tonight?” he said.
“We might have to postpone longer than that,” she replied, and after alerting him to what was happening, she added, “If it does turn out to be Maria’s son, and I don’t think she’s making this up, I’m going to try and get Gould to assign me to the case as Marcy’s victim support officer.”
“To replace the one they already have?”
“That’s right. She’s so overworked they’ve hardly seen her anyway. I can organize my schedule to give them more time. As soon as you’re free tonight give me a call, and if you’re able to come to the house that would be great. There could be a lot to talk about.”