By late afternoon, the red carpet had been rolled up and taken away. The balloon arch had partially deflated and was sagging at a drunken angle. The crowds had dispersed and discarded disposable coffee cups rolled around on the pavement. It had been six hours since the police had taken Sophie away for questioning.
“I’d love to be a fly on the wall in the interview room,” Partial Sue said, “watching Sophie squirm and try to sweet-talk her way out of it.”
“Do you think she really killed all those people?” Daisy asked.
“We saw what we saw,” Partial Sue replied. “And she had the knife in her box of donations. Who else could it be?”
“It’s still circumstantial,” Fiona pointed out. “We’ll leave the police to come to their own conclusions.”
Partial Sue glanced out of the window. “Speak of the devil.”
A taxi pulled up across the road and out stepped Sophie, still swamped by her cape and a face like bubbling lava. She bypassed her own shop and stormed straight towards Dogs Need Nice Homes. The door flung open so hard, she nearly dislodged the little bell above from its moorings.
Simon Le Bon gave a whimper of fear.
“How dare you?” Sophie snarled. “You planned this, didn’t you?”
“Planned what?” Fiona asked.
“You knew about my grand opening, which I kindly invited you to, but you were jealous, weren’t you? Had to ruin my day. Decided to sabotage it in cahoots with that ethnic policewoman.”
“Her name is Detective Inspector Fincher,” Partial Sue reminded her.
“I don’t care what she’s called. You ruined my day on purpose. Made up some cock-and-bull story about me stealing some dominoes in Westbourne, so the police would turn up. Oh, yes, I saw the footage. I bet that was one of you dressed in a cape, pretending to be me.”
“We did no such thing.”
“Oh, please, it’s so obviously not me. Which one of you was it, eh? Pretending to be me, just so you could set me up.”
“Were you arrested?” Daisy asked.
“No, they questioned me. Kept asking me if I knew all these dead people, over and over, and where was I on this date and that date. And the coffee was terrible, worse than the stuff you serve. I don’t know how you could do this to me.” Almost instantly, Sophie’s emotions shifted from anger to melodramatic sadness. Her eyes teared up. “All I’ve ever been is nice to you. I thought we were friends. How could you do such a thing? Me, an innocent, beautiful person who has vowed never to do harm, who has so much to give and whose only crime is to make life better for everyone.”
Before Daisy, Partial Sue and Fiona had time to be sick, Sophie’s emotions switched back. The tears miraculously disappeared, dried by the fire in her eyes. “Well, let me tell you, the gloves are off. You’re going to regret this. There is such a thing as wasting police time. And defamation of character, slander, wrongful arrest—”
“You weren’t arrested,” Fiona pointed out.
“That’s beside the point. You’ll now need to worry about my solicitor, whom I will be contacting the second I’ve finished here.”
“I don’t think so,” said Fiona.
“Well, I do.”
Fiona snorted derisively. “Well, I don’t. We didn’t know about the footage until Maureen from End Global Hunger got in touch. She called us. We merely passed it on to the police, who, like us, thought it was you. It was their decision to act, not ours. You may know about PR and be best friends with TV celebrities, but we know about crime. If you’re saying that it’s one of us in disguise, then you’d better have some concrete evidence. Otherwise it’s known as a false accusation. There’s a law against that too. It’s called perverting the course of justice.”
“Average sentence is between four and thirty-six months,” Partial Sue added. “Or sometimes a hefty fine.”
Sophie’s features wobbled slightly.
Fiona continued, “You must have proof that it’s us, which I’m sure you have, otherwise you wouldn’t be making this allegation. So by all means, call your solicitor. Let’s get the ball rolling.”
Sophie stood silent. Possibly a first. Her mind was chewing over the schooling she’d just received, which had shoved her well and truly out of her depth.
“Well?” Fiona asked.
“Well, what?”
“Have you got evidence?”
“Well, no, not at the—”
Fiona got to her feet. “Then don’t come in here threatening me and my friends, accusing us of things we didn’t do. You can leave our shop now, if you please.”
Sophie didn’t leave. She stood there defiant, jaw jutting out. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you, reading all those dreary crime stories. Here’s one you might remember. Two women from Dogs Need Nice Homes visit the community centre to have a nose around. Then steal a set of dominoes, for what petty reason I cannot imagine. However, if falsely being accused of taking dominoes is enough to get me hauled in by the police for questioning, then I’m sure they’d be interested in a pair of thieves who have actually done it for real. And yes, I have concrete evidence, because we caught you red-handed with the stolen goods, right here in this shop. I’ll get Malorie to back me up.” She sucked in hard through her teeth. “Oh dear. It doesn’t look good for you. I think I’d better put a call into DI Fincher right this second.” Sophie turned and made a dramatic exit.
Fiona swore.
“She’s bluffing,” Partial Sue said. “She won’t call DI Fincher.”
“I bet she will,” Fiona replied. “She believes she’s been scorned. She’ll grass us up and probably lay it on thick.”
“I took the dominoes. I’ll take the blame.”
“We’re all in this together,” Daisy said.
“Agreed. We should call DI Fincher first, before Sophie does, and confess. It’ll look better.” Before Fiona could dial the detective’s number, it rang. The name of the caller appeared on-screen.
DI Fincher.
Not giving the detective a chance to speak, Fiona rammed her confession down the receiver while Daisy and Partial Sue listened in. “I’m sorry. We stole some dominoes from the community centre. We were going to put them back. We thought they might be evidence—”
“Fiona, Fiona.” DI Fincher attempted to halt her confession. “Look, I’m really not bothered about that. I’ve got bigger things on my plate. I’m just calling to give you an update.”
“You are?” Normally, Fiona had to verbally twist DI Fincher’s arm to get any sort of progress report.
“Yes. Firstly, you may or may not be aware that we released Sophie Haverford without charge, for reasons that will become clear.”
Did Fiona detect a slight edge in her voice? If she didn’t know better, she would say the detective sounded annoyed or perhaps tired, or maybe both. That would be no surprise if the last six hours spent questioning Sophie had led to a dead end. The information they’d given the police had amounted to nothing.
“Anyway, this next bit concerns you.”
Fiona got a hit of adrenalin, both terrified and excited at what was coming next.
“While we were questioning Sophie, another murder took place,” DI Fincher continued. “A Fiona Sharp was found dead.”
The phone fell to the floor.