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That next morning I decided to read instead of write, hoping it would get me back on the literary horse. I was halfway through the third chapter of a mystery novel I’d read before when Nancy rang the bell at the back of the store. I was already dressed and only had to collect a handbag and my courage before making my way downstairs. I opened the door and stepped out. Nancy was dressed entirely in white and tapped her foot impatiently. Her hair resembled that of a beehive, and her lipstick was bright pink. She wasn’t one to blend in.
“This advice he needs better be worth giving,” she said. “If it’s anything like that man requested yesterday, I’ll hit him with a chair. Hotel rooms have chairs, right? Should I bring my broom?”
“No, don’t bring a broom. I’m sure that he needs our help with something entirely innocent.”
“Sure, and that’s why he’s staying home from work and wants us to meet him at a hotel room in the same village. This whole thing is very odd.”
“I know it’s odd, and that’s why we have to go. Whatever it is, it must be important.” I grabbed her arm as we made our way to the bridge and in the direction of the hill on which the hotel was situated. We came across Pandora the chicken who stared us down in the middle of the street, but just as I was about to make a run for it, Nancy squeezed my arm and kept on walking. We went straight towards her. Her brownish red feathers were pretty, but her beady eyes were evil.
Any moment she could charge at us, but she did nothing. She let us pass without so much as a strange clucking sound. If anybody had seen us, they would have thought it was Nancy’s magic. And maybe it was.
The hotel was a Victorian estate with bay windows and castle-like features. Pink climbing roses adorned the white archway by the entrance. It was well kept and looked gorgeous, yet at the same time I couldn’t help but feel sad as I looked at it.
Mrs Field was the one attending the reception desk. It was an old mahogany desk with an old-fashioned ledger for guests to sign in, but there was also a computer in the corner. “Miss Matthews,” she said as soon as she spotted me. “And Nancy, welcome back. How delightful to see you both.”
Nancy just murmured some general pleasantries.
“Please call me Maggie,” I said. “It’s nice to see you too. We’re here to visit Victor Woodsbury. Do you have his room number?”
“Of course. It’s 205. The second floor.”
“Thank you.”
Mrs Field asked me to stop by at the reception desk before leaving so I could sign her book and after I said I would, we went up the broad staircase with the swirling banister. The carpet absorbed our footfalls as we made our way up. It was very beautiful on the inside and didn’t feel like it once belonged to a serial killer. They really had done their best to renovate it and maintain some of the old features.
We made our way up to the second floor while Nancy was telling me about where she would hit Victor with the chair when we arrived at his hotel room. I knocked on the door and made sure I was positioned between Victor and Nancy when he’d open the door. Just in case.
Silence.
I knocked again, then tried the handle. The door opened. All the doors had old-fashioned keys, so they didn’t lock automatically.
“That’s never a good sign,” Detective Black said.
“Oh, oh,” I said. “Stay back.”
“No way. You stay back. If this means there’s trouble, then I’m going in. I’ve read your books and I watch crime dramas. I know exactly what to do.” She grabbed a tea kettle from her handbag.
“What? Why did you bring a tea kettle?”
“My broom didn’t fit in my handbag.” She pushed open the door.
“If there is a murderer in there, go for the eyes, the groin, or the throat,” Detective Black said.
We tiptoed into the room as I stuck close behind Nancy in case I needed to defend her. She was good with household appliances, but still. There was an empty tea cup on the desk and other than that the room looked like nobody had been in there. Of course, he hadn’t spent the night here. For some reason he only rented this room so we would have a place to talk while his wife thought he was at work.
“Victor?” I asked. “Are you there?” My voice trembled. I went over to the bathroom and tried the door. It was locked. “Victor?” I tapped on the door.
Nothing.
I banged this time, though I couldn’t imagine why he couldn’t hear me. Especially when he was expecting us. A ball of barbed wire settled in my stomach.
“I can think of a reason why he wouldn’t answer,” Detective Black said.
“Nance, give me your credit card.”
“You make your own money, use your own,” she said.
“No, I know a trick so I can open the lock. It’s one of those hook-and-eye latches. I noticed that when I checked out pictures on their website. Give me a card that you don’t mind getting scratched.”
She sighed. “Fine. But I’m telling you he’s just being an arse, because he is, in fact, an arse.” She said that last bit loud enough for him to hear. She handed me a card.
I wiggled it between the door and the door post, hoping it would be under the lock. It was difficult because I had to guess. I shimmied the card upwards until I felt resistance. It meant I was in the right place. I kept wiggling until I felt no resistance and there was a sound against the door. I had gotten it out of the hook. I opened the door as I held my breath.
He was in the bath with his back to me, but I could immediately tell that he was dead. He was leaning over the edge of the tub and had clearly been sick. His skin had an unnatural colour. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare.
I screamed my lungs out.
––––––––
WE HAD TO WAIT DOWNSTAIRS in the lounge area while the crime scene unit processed the room, and the coroner and detectives were called. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if Alistair would be the detective on the case, but it barely reached my conscious mind. I trembled on the comfortable sofa while Nancy kept rubbing my back and offering me water even though I didn’t want any, nor did I see how water could help me unsee what I had seen.
The other guests downstairs were eyeing me with curiosity, but only one had tried to approach me. She had backed off when Nancy growled at her. Still, they already knew someone had died and that that someone was Victor Woodsbury. It wouldn’t be long now till the village mentioned the curse. I hated that, because no curse had killed Victor, and I didn’t want people to use that as an excuse not to pay attention to their surroundings. Victor had seemed scared. Perhaps other people had noticed something about him. Of course, it could just be a coincidence.
“There are no coincidences when it comes to a sudden death,” Detective Black said.
Which I agreed with, but I also considered that perhaps my imaginative mind had taken over. Perhaps Victor had simply become a bit dramatic now that he’d reached his fifties.
It seemed to take forever until someone cleared their throat. I looked up at Alistair, recognising him immediately. He was wearing a grey suit and black shoes. His black hair was half long. His shoulders were broad and he still had that air of coolness about him. He was also very good at maintaining a poker face, since I couldn’t tell if he knew who I was.
“I’m DS Ashworth and this is DC Daniels,” he said.
It wasn’t until then that I noticed the man standing behind him. He looked slender and smiled sheepishly.
“I realise you two have had quite the shock,” Alistair continued, “but I’m going to have to ask you some questions. Is that okay?”
I nodded.
“You two found the body?” he asked.
“Victor,” I said.
“Excuse me?”
“His name is Victor. Victor Woodsbury.” I managed a feeble smile, though in reality it probably looked like a grimace.
“Of course. Victor. And you found him?”
“So what? If it hadn’t been for us, it would have been the maid or something,” Nancy said. “We were just minding our own business.”
Alistair frowned. “In his hotel room?”
“He invited us over,” I said. “Yesterday. He said he needed advice and he wanted my aunt to come over, then he added that I should come as well. He said I couldn’t tell anyone and that we were to meet him at the hotel. He indicated that he’d pretend to go to work and nobody would know he’d be here. Except us.”
Alistair scribbled something in his notebook. “And did he mention what he needed advice about?”
I shook my head.
“And then what happened when you arrived?”
“We asked for his room number and then went up. When we got to his door, it was unlocked. My aunt Nancy took out a tea kettle as a potential weapon since we both thought it ominous that his door was open. Which was silly, I guess, but we watch a lot of crime dramas. Also, it did turn out to be...you know?”
“A body.”
“Yep,” I said in a high voice.
“And why did you bring a tea kettle to this meeting?” Alistair asked Nancy.
“Because his intentions could have been impure. He was a cheating bastard,” she said.
“He was? How do you know?”
“Everybody knows.” She leaned forward. “And in case you don’t remember, we gossip a lot.”
He flashed her a professional smile. “And then what happened?”
“Everything looked like a normal empty hotel room except for one cup of tea. I tried the bathroom but it was locked.”
“Locked? You’re sure?” He scribbled something down again. “How did you get into the bathroom then?”
I felt my cheeks get warm.
Alistair stopped writing and observed my expression. He sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of me, suddenly quite close. Our knees were nearly touching. He smelt woody and I wanted to hug him. “I just want to know the truth. You’re not in any trouble, but it’s important we get all the facts.”
“I used a credit card to open the lock. I simply pushed the card up, and then it opened. I had to do that once for research purposes. As a mystery writer.”
He simply smiled. “Then what happened?”
Nancy scoffed. “Then a marching band came out of the bathroom to perform for us. What do you think? We saw the dead body, she screamed her head off, and we ran out of there to get Mrs Field. She rang the police and here we are.”
“So nobody stayed with the—Victor?” Alistair asked.
“What did you want? For us to sit there and braid his hair?” Nancy said with a frown on her face.
“Nance,” I warned.
“What? It’s a stupid question. Are you really the detective on this case?” she said. “Lovely to have you back, though.” And just like that the switch had flipped, and she stared at him affectionately. “How is your mother? She must be happy to have you back.”
He blinked. “Right. I’m—” his voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. “One more question. Did either of you touch anything?”
“I touched the door handle to the bathroom, other than that we didn’t touch anything. Did we?” I asked Nancy.
She shook her head vehemently.
Alistair got up. “I might stop by later to ask some more questions. For now I’ll need the tea kettle that you brought.” He held out his hand to Nancy.
She gasped dramatically. “Why? What has this tea kettle ever done to you?”
“Miss Knightley, please.”
She growled, then took out the tea kettle and pressed it into his hands. “Just be gentle with it. It’s a delicate kettle.”
“I thought you brought it as a weapon?”
“Reluctantly. My broom didn’t fit in my handbag.”
After he gave Nancy a look I couldn’t decipher, he left. I watched him go, noting that he hadn’t shown any signs of recognition. No warmth or kindness. Just a professional attitude that told me I didn’t have a shot. Not in a million years.
“Thanks for the ointment you gave my mum,” DC Daniels said to Nancy.
“You’re very welcome, dear. Say hi to her for me. She’s a lovely woman.” Her voice was soft as warm milk.
DC Daniels smiled and then trotted off in the direction Alistair had gone.
“You do realise that Alistair thinks you’re crazy now?”
“But I am, so why would I mind that? Now, let’s get you home.”
––––––––
NANCY BROUGHT ME TO her place where Bailey snuggled up on my lap after she placed me on the sofa with a mug of herbal tea and a blanket. I had thought of getting a pet myself, but I didn’t have time to walk a dog every day, nor did I want to. And with a cat I’d have to wear a hazmat suit every time I had to clean the litter box. The only thing that came close to being desirable was a bunny.
Nancy was never sick, nor had she ever hired anyone to cover for her in her shop. This time wasn’t any different. After she made sure I was okay, she went downstairs to open up for business and gossip, no doubt.
By that time I had stopped shaking, even if I still couldn’t believe what had happened. Despite that time that Victor had comforted me, we hadn’t spoken much. Perhaps a few words in the street or the time that he frequented the bookshop. It only lasted a few weeks, and then he stopped. Even if he was a cheater, I had liked him and I was sad to know he’d died. Victor and Patricia were quite popular in this village, and I imagined this would be hot news. Quite a lot of people would be upset. Victor had always been charming.
“Death is always lurking where you least expect it,” Detective Black said and pulled up the blanket to my chin. “Get some rest.”
I closed my eyes and fell asleep immediately. I didn’t wake until noon and went downstairs. I left through the back only to get into my own store, but before I could face anybody in there, I rushed upstairs to put on some makeup. I hadn’t bothered this morning, and to my horror I looked as bad as I felt. It was a miracle that Alistair hadn’t run away.
When I felt a bit more like myself, I went downstairs to see Eddie and Susan. No doubt it would be busy. When there was a piece of news like this, people met up wherever they could. And I knew the book club ladies would be there, because no doubt they’d also heard it was Nancy and I who had found Victor.
“Maggie,” Eddie shouted as he spotted me from across the store. He was setting up a new display but abandoned it to rush over and hug me. “Are you okay? Nancy said you were at her place, resting. How are you?”
“I’m much better now, thank you.”
“They say Victor was poisoned,” Eddie said, looking rather pale himself.
“Poison? Really?” I asked. “I didn’t even know that. It’s not like I inspected his...body.” Had the poison been in the tea cup? Or had someone injected something? Poison was usually used by women, and it had the benefit of not having to be around to kill someone. Could it have been his wife? But who knew he would be there? Was Mrs Field in on it? My mind was a tornado of thoughts.
The women of the Castlefield Book Club gathered around. Eleanor gave me a kiss on the cheek and was kind enough to bring home-made scones.
“Thank you for coming, ladies.”
“It’s just so awful,” Poppy said.
Several women had burst into tears, even the usually distant Lily. Victor had been even more popular than his wife. I tried to assess if any of them could have been his lover, but I detected nothing suspicious. Poppy clutched my arm and dabbed a lace handkerchief at the corner of her eye, even if she wasn’t crying any more.
“Maggie, can’t you do something? This is just so awful and you’ve helped us before.” She made a very obvious gesture with her head towards Lily who instantly shot her nose up in the air and looked away. If anybody was to blame, it was her thieving cousin.
“This is not really my area of expertise,” I said, flattered they thought it was.
Ava, Dawn’s wife, scoffed. “Are you joking?” she said in a Scottish accent. “You write about murders. You get into killers’ heads.” She tapped her temple and then blew a few strands of her fringe away. “If anybody knows how a psycho killer operates, it’s you.”
Eleanor cleared her throat and then smiled at me as if to say she didn’t mean it like that. She had to do that a lot when Ava spoke.
“Yeah, thanks, Ava. I’ll see what I can do.”
There was a collective sigh of relief that startled me. Had my concession really been that important to them? And how the hell was I going to live up to their expectations? I could hardly solve a real murder, could I? I pictured the sense of pride and accomplishment if I actually managed it. Not just to be able to solve something so complex, but to set something right for Victor and to protect the villagers. Perhaps even impress a certain detective. Also, if a killer could strike once, he could strike again.
“Of course you can do it,” Detective Black said from behind me. “I’ll help you.”
When I glanced back, he was gone again. What the holy muffin had I just said yes to?