Fay drove back to the entrance of the estate and pulled up at the gatehouse. She rolled down her window, expecting to fill out a form before she would be admitted. Instead, the guard peered into the car and caught sight of David, whereupon he straightened up and waved them through.
“I come here most evenings to see patients,” David said in response to Fay’s raised eyebrows. “The guards always let me through.”
“I thought they were supposed to have improved security around here after the Rowan Court matter.”
“That was an inside job. Good security wouldn’t have helped.”
“Still …” Fay grumbled.
She stopped the car in the visitors parking and led David around the lake to where Laura Schuyler’s cottage was.
“Yoo hoo, Fay! Yoo hoo!”
They turned to see Laura powerwalking along the path towards them.
“Morning, Laura. I’m sure you’ve already met …”
“Dr. Dyer!” Laura looked flustered to see him. “Goodness me. I didn’t expect to find you here at this time of day. Fay, I should have called you and saved you the trouble. I checked the cat trap early this morning before my aerobics class and it was empty. Kitty didn’t come around at all last night, it seems.”
“Oh,” said Fay. “That’s disappointing. Well, since I’m here, I’ll just take another look.”
She walked around to the back of the cottage with Laura and David trailing in her wake. Then she bent down to look inside the cat trap and saw the one thing she was not expecting – a furry black face looking back at her.
“He’s here!” she said excitedly. “We’ve got him.”
Laura squeaked. “Where? Let me see.” She peered into the trap. “Yes! That’s him. He’s the one who’s been coming around for food. He must have slipped in while I was at aerobics.”
“It’s thanks to you he hasn’t starved,” said Fay. “Especially with the nights getting so cold lately.”
“He’s a beautiful boy, isn’t he?” Laura waggled her fingers through the bars of the cage door. “Who’s a beautiful boy? You are! Yes, you are. Ooh!” She moved her fingers smartly out the way as the cat shot out a paw to try to scratch her.
“He’s a wild one,” said David. “Be careful, Fay.”
“Believe me, I have no desire to put my fingers in the way of those razors.” Fay picked up the cat trap by its handle, provoking a yowl of indignation from its occupant.
“Oh, do be careful.” Laura trotted along next to Fay. “Don’t hurt him.”
“I’m more concerned that he’s going to hurt me. But don’t worry. All he’ll get from now on is good food and lots of love.”
“And medical treatment?” She wrung her hands. “You’ll make sure he’s in good health?”
“I’ll take him to the vet myself.”
“And you will give me regular updates on how he’s doing? I’m easy to get hold of. My children set me up on WhatsApp and everything. You ask Morwen Hammett for my number. She has it.”
“You’ll be the first to know how he’s settling in,” Fay promised.
They loaded the cat trap into the back seat of the Volvo and drove off with Laura watching until they were out of sight.
Fay dropped David off in time for his eleven o’clock consultation. Then she took the cat home to introduce him to Morwen.
“What a seasonally appropriate animal.” Morwen bent to look at the cat as Fay hoisted the trap onto the kitchen table.
It took Fay a moment. “Oh, you mean for Halloween. Yes, indeed. The only problem with black cats is that they’re the most difficult to find homes for because some people are still superstitious about them.”
“He can always come and live with us,” Morwen crooned. “Can’t he? Yes, he can, because he’s a beautiful boy.”
Fay winced as Morwen tried to stick her fingers through the bars and stroke him. “Don’t do that. He’s still a bit scratchy and bitey.”
Morwen withdrew her hand quickly. “He must have been tamed at some point because that is definitely the remains of a collar around his neck.”
“Yes. That’ll make it easier for him to get used to humans again. I’m just wondering what to do with him in the meantime. He doesn’t look particularly happy where he is right now.”
“Your grandmother used to put her ferals in that box room next to the kitchen,” said Morwen. “She showed me once. It’s warm because it’s next to the oven range. And it’s big enough for a cat to move around freely, but small enough for it to feel secure. There’s even a window for him to look out if he likes.”
Fay went to check out the box room. She had often wondered why it was kept empty. Now she knew that it was the feral-taming zone.
“Look at that - there’s even a glass panel in the door so we can look in and check on him.”
“That’s right,” said Morwen. “If you give him food and water, a litter tray, a warm basket, and a cat tree next to the window, it will be perfect for him.”
“He can decompress and get used to feeling safe before we start socializing him again. Thanks, Mor. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Fay hoped she would never have to find out as she went in search of spare food dishes and all the other equipment she needed to make their four-legged guest feel comfortable.
“Have you thought of a name for him?” Morwen called from the kitchen as Fay got the box room set up.
“I was thinking of Spooky, seeing as it’s almost Halloween. Of course, if he gets adopted, his new owner might change that.”
When the Cat’s Paw’s newest guest room was all set up, Fay put the cat trap inside and opened the front flap. Then she went out and closed the door behind her to give him a chance to get used to his surroundings.
It took twenty minutes for him to feel secure enough to venture out of the trap. Once he had exited it, Fay reached quietly into the box room and removed the trap.
She watched through the glass panel as Spooky helped himself to food and water. He then used the litter tray, and stropped his claws on the scratching post, before bounding up to the top tier of the cat tree and settling down to look out the window. The fact that he didn’t immediately retreat to the safety of the igloo basket told her that he was less timid than she had thought.
“Look at that.” Morwen joined her to look through the glass panel. “Hasn’t he settled in nicely?”
“He has indeed. I’ll leave him to get used to his new surroundings before I try to make friends with him. In the meantime, I’m going down to the village. I want to speak to Frances King, the woman who works as a fencing instructor at Galliano’s. I’ve heard that Massimo could be a little patronizing towards her.”
Morwen laughed. “Goodness knows there are plenty of men I’ve wanted to stab with something sharp for being patronizing, but it’s Mayweather who’s dead, not Galliano.”
“True. But this was the environment Edward Mayweather entered when he joined the studio. If two of the instructors were at each other’s throats and he somehow got in the middle, who knows what could have happened? Besides, investigating a murder involves going down a lot of blind alleys.”
The air clung damply to Fay’s skin as she walked to the village. The temperature had dropped since earlier that morning, making her wish she had put on a warmer jacket.
She increased her pace and swung her arms, trying to get her blood pumping. It worked so well that she was ready to shed her jacket by the time she tramped up the stairs towards the fencing studio.
A class for adults was in progress. Massimo and Frances were teaching it together, using each other to demonstrate sparring techniques. Fay glanced into the admin office and saw yet another temp trying to make sense of the filing system.
She stood against the wall and watched as the lesson wound down. Massimo and Frances worked well together. They kept their students interested and entertained and demonstrated what looked to Fay like a high level of mastery over their chosen discipline.
&
nbsp; When the lesson was over and the class dispersed, Frances came over to talk to Fay.
“You were in here the other day. Are you interested in lessons for yourself or for a child …?”
“Neither, actually. Although I must say it looks like a lot of fun, and good exercise too. I wanted to talk to you about a man who used to work here, Edward Mayweather.”
“Oh, I’m afraid he passed away recently. Massimo can help you if you want to know anything about his connection to this studio. Edward only worked here for a few weeks.”
“I’ve already spoken to him, but I’d like your take as well. I was the one who found his body.”
Frances raised her eyebrows. “That must have been upsetting. In that case, let’s sit over here.” She guided Fay to a group of chairs and tables where parents watched their children’s lessons. It was currently deserted. “There’s a fresh pot of coffee in my office. Would you like me to bring you a cup?”
Fay accepted and Frances disappeared to fetch it. After the noise and bustle of the class, the studio seemed very quiet. Massimo had gone into the admin office where he could be heard conferring with the temp.
“Here you go.” Frances put two cups of coffee on the table and sat opposite Fay. “What can I tell you about Edward? I didn’t know him very well.”
“Were you surprised when Massimo took him on as a temporary instructor?”
Frances nodded. “Surprised and not particularly pleased. I saw it as a reflection on me. I thought Massimo was disappointed with my work here and was bringing someone in to replace me.”
“Do you still think that?”
“Not really. I realize now that the number of students at the studio had increased dramatically. We needed a third instructor to take the pressure off. Massimo had just been on an aggressive marketing campaign. He advertised fencing lessons to the school, the kindergarten, even the local retirement village. It was very successful. Massimo can be charming when he chooses.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“People flock to sign up for lessons, thinking that they’ll be getting one-on-one attention from him. Then they realize that he won’t be the one teaching them, and that fencing is much harder than it looks, and they drop out like flies. But before that happens, the studio has more work than it can handle.”
“Was Edward a kind of stop-gap instructor to cover that busy period?”
“That’s what Massimo said. I wasn’t impressed at first. Edward seemed out of shape and a little too old.”
Fay nodded. Both Massimo and Frances were slim and lithe. They were light on their feet and walked with a youthful spring. Edward wasn’t anyone’s idea of a first-class fencing instructor.
“But presumably Massimo wouldn’t hire someone completely incompetent? His studio’s reputation was at stake, after all.”
“Watching Edward in action for the first time was a revelation,” said Frances. “His footwork, his arm strength, his speed and precision were all very impressive. I had to eat my words. Massimo was right to hire him.”
“Did Edward ever say what he was doing on Bluebell Island? It wasn’t just about the fencing, was it?”
“No. Although he did mention several times that he was keen to learn a particular pass from Massimo. Massimo kept promising to show it to him and then going back on his word. I don’t know why else Edward was here, but I do remember him saying that it could get him into trouble.”
Chapter 12
Fay sat forward. “Get him into trouble? What did he mean by that?”
Frances shook her head. “I have no idea. He seemed both excited and apprehensive about something. I don’t know what it was.”
“Could he have been afraid of failure?”
“I’m not sure. He acted like a little boy who was doing something that he knew was wrong. Like he knew he was going to get into trouble for it but was thrilled about it at the same time. Does that make any sense?”
“So, the trouble wasn’t of a serious nature? It wasn’t life-threatening, for example?”
“No, I never got the feeling that it was. He acted more like a child who was afraid of a scolding than a grown man who was afraid for his life. Unless I misread the situation.”
“And you have no idea what it was about? Something connected with his profession as a lawyer, maybe?”
“I’m sorry – I really don’t know. He didn’t even hint at what it could have been about.”
“Not to worry. You’ve already been very helpful. My last question was about how Edward died.”
“He was stabbed by a fencing sword, wasn’t he?”
“That’s right. It went in under his diaphragm and killed him instantly.”
“I heard that on the news this morning.”
“In your opinion, would it necessarily have been a fencing expert who killed him, or could it have been anybody?”
“That’s a tricky one.” Frances rested her chin on her hands as she thought. “The fact that he was killed by one thrust suggests that the murderer was at least strong and competent. And if there were no other stab wounds, it means that the perpetrator didn’t hesitate. One thrust to the abdomen and it was all over. Massimo and I were talking earlier about how it was probably an epee that killed him. That’s the largest and heaviest of the fencing swords. It’s bigger than both the foil and the saber. Massimo thinks that’s why the police are so suspicious of him. The sword of his that was stolen and covered in fake blood is an epee.”
“That makes sense.” Fay stood up to go. Then she turned back to Frances as though struck by an after-thought, “You and Massimo work closely together. Do you get on with him?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“A friend of mine mentioned that you came to give a pitch at the retirement estate. She said Massimo made it sound as though he were the expert while you and Edward were barely competent. She said you seemed to resent it.”
Frances laughed. It was an uncomfortable sound. “Massimo is a grandstander. He likes to make it all about him. And yes, I do sometimes get a little irritated. But we’ve worked together ever since this studio opened two years ago. I’m used to him by now. I don’t let it get to me.”
It was lunchtime when Fay emerged from the fencing studio. She contemplated the wisdom of going back to Penrose House for lunch or staying in the village to continue her investigations. Then she sent a text to Morwen.
Fay: How’s our newest guest settling in?
Morwen: He says that the basket could be softer but that the eco-friendly compressed woodchip kitty litter is a nice touch.
Fay: So glad he isn’t fussy! Is it a problem if I miss lunch? I’m following up on a couple of leads here.
Morwen: Of course not. I’ve made beef stew and potatoes. I’ll save some for you for dinner tonight.
Fay responded with a thumbs up emoji and set off towards the Cracked Spine.
It looked as though Nella Harcourt also had a full house for Halloween. She had gone all out on the decorations. Fay had to duck under a curtain of cobwebs to enter the coffee shop. Even though it was lunchtime, the most popular item on the menu was still the cream tea. Fay saw several tables enjoying freshly baked scones with farm butter, homemade preserves, and Nella’s famous clotted cream. It looked so good that she couldn’t resist ordering a portion for herself. She just hoped she wouldn’t get a sugar crash later that afternoon.
Nella was nowhere to be seen. She was probably at the reception desk checking guests into the B&B.
As Fay’s food arrived, Isis the cat sauntered through the coffee shop with her tail up in the air. Fay bent down and clicked her fingers.
“Here, Isis. Here, girl.”
The cat stopped in her tracks and made a beeline for Fay.
“Watch yourself,” warned the waitress. “She likes to steal food.”
Fay touched the tip of her forefinger to the clotted cream and held it out for Isis to lick.
“That’s all she’s getting.”
The waitres
s smiled as she moved away to attend to other tables. “Famous last words.”
Isis hopped onto the chair opposite Fay and regarded her cream tea with a fixed stare. Fay took a bite of her scone. She was used to resisting feline stares. She gave Isis’s head a rub.
“You’re the cat that got the cream, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Fay turned in surprise. Nella had popped up, apparently out of nowhere. Today her dress was a flowing magenta creation with silver buttons and sparkling embroidery. She was wearing a matching silver turban and horn-rimmed spectacles.
“Well, I just gave her a lick of my cream, for one thing,” said Fay. “And you must admit she is looking rather smug today.”
“She looks smug every day,” said Isis’s loving owner. “I hear you’re looking into the death of Edward Mayweather. If you find out who did it, could you ask him or her kindly not to use the road outside my establishment as a dumping ground for corpses. It’s bad for business.”
“I’ll pass on the message. Fake cobwebs are much more appropriate for this time of year.”
“I can’t believe Halloween is so close. I hope you’ve stocked up for the big trick-or-treat parade. A lot of the local children walk up Cliff Road specially to make a stop at Penrose House. Your grandmother was always very generous to them.”
Fay shrugged. “I thought this year I’d go for healthier options. I’ve stocked up on bags of kale chips and salted seaweed.”
Nella’s bony frame reared back in indignation. “Kale! Seaweed! You can’t possibly. The children will be so disappoint…” She broke off when Fay started laughing. “You’re joking.”
“I sure am. I’ve bought a ton of mini Mars bars and sour gummy worms. No little witches or goblins will go away empty-handed.”
Nella snorted. “I should hope not.”
“By the way.” Fay kept her voice casual. “You don’t happen to know the way to Elf Farm, do you?”
The Cat That Got the Cream Page 7