You can stop your nosy questions. If you want proof that Massimo Galliano killed Edward Mayweather, you’ll find it on Halloween.
When: When ghosties and goblins are abroad.
Where: The person who built it sold it. The person who bought it never used it. The person who used it never saw it.
I am tall when I am young and short when I am old. I stand guard at the place where Moses received his tablets. What is the difference between a pill and a hill?
Who: Come alone. Things will get messy if you don’t.
The person had signed the letter with three cheeky X’s.
Fay sighed. “Not another riddle. Just because I’m was a police detective, people seem to think I can make sense of riddles. And I really can’t.”
“I’m not much better,” said Morwen. “I was trying to figure it out before you came, but I’m stumped.”
Fay slipped her phone out of her pocket and took a photograph of the letter. “This is evidence. I’ll have to hand it over to Sergeant Jones. But I’m keeping a record for myself.”
“You know who you should get to help you solve that riddle, don’t you?”
“Maggie?” said Fay. “Or Pen.”
“Definitely Maggie. I’ve never seen anyone solve riddles as fast as she can. Pen’s good, but Maggie’s better. When they go head to head on the cryptic crossword, Maggie beats him every time.”
Fay checked her watch. “She’s not still upstairs doing the guest rooms, is she?”
“Last time I saw her, she was cleaning the windows in the residents’ lounge. I’m about to serve tea in there, so she’ll be finishing up soon.”
“Thanks, Mor. You saw the pumpkin pies and whipped cream I put out for tea?”
“I did. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I’m getting a little tired of the smell of pumpkin pies baking.”
Fay pulled a face. “Me too. I can’t wait for Halloween to be over so I can start baking something else for a change. But for now, our guests can’t get enough of them.”
She slid the letter into an envelope addressed to Sergeant Jones. She would drop it off at the police station herself. Then she went upstairs to the residents’ lounge in search of Maggie Binnie.
Maggie wasn’t there, but the sparkling state of the windows suggested her recent presence. As Fay turned to leave the lounge, she almost walked straight into her cleaner who was carrying a tray loaded with coffee cups.
“Oh, Maggie. There you are.”
“Hiya, Fay. Were you looking for me?”
Maggie put the tray down and Fay helped her to set out the cups and saucers. She also switched the urn on so that the water would be freshly boiled when the guests started to arrive at four o’clock.
“I have a riddle here on my phone,” said Fay. “I thought of you because riddles are your strong point, aren’t they?”
Maggie’s smile was cheeky. “They’re one of my strong points. The others include getting a nice shine on a shower door - and bookkeeping, apparently. I got ninety-five percent for my last test.”
They high-fived each other and Fay congratulated her. Then she handed Maggie her phone to see if she could make sense of the letter.
Maggie had hardly read a few lines when she looked up with wide eyes.
“Massimo Galliano? Isn’t he the fencing instructor? Did he really kill that poor man with a sword?”
“I have no idea,” said Fay. “All I know is that somebody is going to a lot of trouble to make me think that he did. I’m keeping an open mind. The only thing I know for sure is that I would really like to figure out what this riddle means.”
Maggie gave a brisk nod. “It shouldn’t be too hard. This event is obviously going to happen on Halloween night.”
“Yes. And that bit about the ghosties and goblins suggests that it will take place during the trick-or-treat parade. Even I managed to figure that out.”
“Agreed. But whether they mean the actual parade down the High Street or a group of kids going off in another direction, I can’t say.”
“What’s does it mean when it says that the one who made it sold it?” asked Fay. “I couldn’t figure that out at all.”
Maggie tapped her chin as she read over the riddle. “The one who made it sold it. The one who bought it never used it. The one who used it never saw it. Okay, I’ve got it. It’s a coffin.”
“A coffin?” Fay read the clue again. “Oh, right. I get it now. Yes, that’s clever. There’s no shortage of fake coffins in the village. Vito and Luigi have one with a very realistic looking vampire in it outside the pizzeria.”
Maggie shivered. “I saw that. It’s super creepy. Do you think there could be something in there?”
“Maybe. What about the next clue? What does that mean?”
“I’m tall when I’m young and short when I’m old. That’s an old riddle. It’s a candle.”
“A candle? That’s probably the most common item of decoration on Halloween. Almost every shop has a jack-o lantern with a candle inside it. And they’ll all be lit for the trick or treat parade. These clues are too general to be helpful.”
“The next clue should narrow it down. I stand guard at the place where Moses received the tablets. What is the difference between a pill and a hill?”
Fay shrugged. “What is the difference? Or rather, what isn’t the difference? Those are two completely different things.”
“I learned that joke at school,” said Maggie. “A hill is hard to get up and a pill is hard to get down.”
“But what does it mean? The tablets seem to be related to the pills. The place where Moses received the tablets? Do you think it means the pharmacy?”
“Except for the part about the hill,” said Maggie. “Where can you get pills on a hill around here?”
“The doctors’ surgery! That’s on a really steep hill. I often wonder how they expect sick people to get up there. I get out of breath walking up that hill and I’m young and fit.”
“We’re used to it, I guess. But yes, I think the last clue refers to the doctors’ surgery.”
Fay thought hard. “So, what we’ve got is a coffin, a candle, and the surgery. But what does it mean? The Dyers haven’t even decorated their place for Halloween.”
“They only put up their decorations after consulting hours on Halloween night,” explained Maggie. “Doc Dyer says it’s not appropriate to do it before then. I know they usually have a jack-o lantern or two, but I’ve never seen a coffin. Their regular decoration is a spooky, mad-scientist guy in a white coat with a stethoscope hanging around his neck.”
“And somehow all this is going to prove that Massimo Galliano killed Edward Mayweather? I can’t see that happening.”
“You think this is a hoax?” asked Maggie. “Like the sword covered in blood. I heard that was fake too.”
“I need to speak to the Dyers,” decided Fay. “Maybe they can shed some light on this.”
“But what about the warning that you have to come alone? It says here that things will get messy if you don’t?”
Fay had never paid any attention to anonymous threats when she was on the NYPD and she had no intention of starting now. “Halloween is only the day after tomorrow. I have enough time to figure it out. If I work out who killed Edward Mayweather before then, I won’t need to pay attention to the riddle.”
Maggie looked doubtful. “Okay …”
“The point is that you’ve been brilliant, Maggie. Thanks for your help. Duncan is lucky to have you.”
Maggie smiled. “And I’m lucky to have him. He has a real flair for this electrical business. Even his boss says so.”
“As long as the two of you don’t rush into anything.” Fay couldn’t help sounding a note of caution.
“Of course, we won’t.” Maggie gave her a sunny smile. “But when it’s right, it’s right, you know?”
Chapter 22
Shortly before five pm, Fay took up her position across the road from Bluebell Maritime Assurance. If Orla Ma
tthis emerged, she would see her. She had only a vague idea of what the woman looked like, but that would have to do. The complaint she had lodged with the employment commission included a small black and white photograph showing a dark-haired woman of about forty. Fay was confident of spotting her, especially when Vito in the pizzeria confirmed that she usually emerged from the BMA offices about now.
In the meantime, she hovered outside Pappa’s checking out their Halloween decorations.
Maggie was right. They had a rather gruesome looking coffin with a vampire sleeping inside it. At five feet long, it wasn’t quite life-size. The vampire had a white face, fangs, and a black suit. He looked like he could have come straight out of a Scooby Doo cartoon. The coffin had been propped upright to rest against the wall.
“Ciao, Fay.” Luigi came out of the pizzeria, wiping his hands on a red-and-white checked napkin. “You are admiring our vampiro, sì?”
“He’s spooky, all right,” said Fay. “I was wondering if you’d ever had people tampering with your decorations or trying to steal them?”
Luigi thought for a moment. “We lost a carved zucca a few years ago. I think one of the tourists took a fancy to it.”
It took Fay a moment to remember that zucca meant pumpkin. “Vito certainly has a creative hand with carving them.”
“It is only in the last five years that Bluebell Island really began to embrace the American traditions for Halloween. I think our zucca was a novelty at the time. Someone liked it, and poof, it disappeared. Since then, we have got into the habit of taking our decorations inside when we close up for the night. It is only on Halloween night that we leave everything out until morning. And since the mystery of the disappearing zucca, nothing else has gone missing.”
“What about the other shopkeepers and restaurant owners in the High Street?” asked Fay. “Do they take their decorations in at night?”
He shrugged. “Some do and some don’t, cara. It depends on whether they have had a bad experience before, sì? Like Signora Sweet from the candy store. Some kids drew a moustache on her witch so now she brings it in every night.”
“But there are others that leave their decorations out all day and all night?”
“Certamente. Why do you ask about this?”
“Just curious.”
Luigi laughed. “Belissima, if there is one thing I have learnt about you, it is that you are never just curious. Your questions always have a purpose. So, tell me. Is there any reason I should be extra careful with my Halloween decorations this year?”
“Not you specifically,” said Fay. “It’s possible that someone is planning to target the Dyers, but I’ll warn them about that. Maybe you should check the coffin each night before you bring it in. Make sure no one has left any surprises inside it.”
“I will certainly do that …” He trailed off as a flash of movement on the opposite side of the road caught his eye. “This is the lady you were wanting to speak to, cara. This Orla Matthis.”
A dark-haired woman had emerged from Bluebell Maritime Assurance and locked the door behind her. The windows were already shuttered.
Fay thanked Luigi and hurried across the road to catch her.
“Mrs. Matthis?”
The woman turned and smiled at Fay. “It’s Orla, dear. Can I help you?”
“My name is Fay Penrose. I believe you used to work at Galliano’s fencing studio. I’d like to ask you about that.”
“Are you from the Employment Commission?”
“No. I’m just making enquiries about the death of Edward Mayweather who used to work at the studio.”
“Oh, yes. I heard about poor Edward. What do you want to know?”
Fay guided her to a quiet part of the street where they could talk uninterrupted. “Edward joined the studio about six weeks ago. Was that while you were still working there?”
“It was. Although by that stage, Massimo was already trying hard to persuade me to leave.”
“Why did he do that? Why did he want you to leave?”
Orla opened her mouth but then closed it again. “Let’s just say I had found out something about him that he didn’t want publicly known.”
“I know quite a bit about Maxie’s … I mean, about Mr. Galliano’s history,” said Fay. “You can speak freely to me.”
Orla’s eyes lit with interest. “So, you know about that - that he’s not Italian at all, but a Welshman named Maxie Galway? He thought I was the only person on the island who knew.”
“If he told you that, he was lying. He knows very well that Vito and Luigi from Pappa’s Pizzeria have rumbled him. And Frances King who teaches with him once caught him putting dark brown contact lenses into his eyes, which she described as naturally light grey. He can’t really believe that he could keep up this masquerade much longer.”
“He has an amazing capacity for self-deception.”
“How did you find out the truth?”
“A debt-collector came to the studio. He was asking about Maxie Galway, so of course I told him that there was nobody there by that name. Then he showed me a photograph of the person he was looking for and it looked like nobody I had ever seen before. I said so and he left, but afterwards I couldn’t help thinking that there had been something familiar about that photograph. I mentioned it to Massimo when he came in later and his dismay was obvious. After that, I put two and two together. Maxie Galway was an Olympic fencer in Wales about fifteen years ago. It wasn’t hard to figure out that they were the same person. Or that he had changed his identity to escape his debts.”
And an irate wife, thought Fay.
“Did you threaten to expose him?” she asked.
“Absolutely not.” Orla sounded offended. “I wasn’t going to mention it at all. He was the one who couldn’t leave it alone. It wasn’t enough for him to know that his secret was safe with me. He hated the fact that I knew it at all. Any time I laughed or even smiled about something, he thought I was laughing at him. Every conversation I had on the phone, he thought I was talking about his secret.”
“It sounds as though he was becoming paranoid.”
“That’s exactly what it was. And it just got worse. He was out of control. Within days, he was criticizing my work. I had been there ever since he opened the studio and suddenly my quality of work wasn’t good enough for him. I wasn’t typing fast enough. The bills were inaccurate. I had forgotten to give him messages. And all of it was absolute nonsense – just made up lies.”
“Did you ever try to talk to him about what was really going on?”
“At the beginning, yes. But then it became impossible. He refused to talk about it. He shut me down if I even tried to raise the subject. As far as he was concerned, it was all about my work performance and nothing more.”
“Was he gearing up to fire you?”
“Either that or he was trying to force me to resign. He got his wish in the end. He gave me a verbal warning for supposedly forgetting to give him some messages. Then a written warning for taking too long at lunch, when I was gone for well under an hour. Then a second written warning for being rude to clients. After the third warning, I knew he would have grounds to fire me, so I resigned instead.”
“Wasn’t that what he wanted all along?”
“In a way,” said Orla. “At that moment, he thought he had won. I wish I could have seen the look on his face when he got a notice from the Employment Commission that I was suing him for constructive dismissal. He won’t have a leg to stand on. It will give me great pleasure to take a few thousand pounds away from his business.”
“How were his relationships with his other colleagues at this time – specifically Edward and Frances?”
“Also not good,” said Orla. “He was on edge most of the time. Frances has been irritated with him for years. She hates his grandstanding and play-acting. And Edward was getting annoyed because he had promised to teach him some special pass in fencing that only an elite few have mastered. That was what brought Edward to the studi
o in the first place. Massimo kept finding excuses for why he wasn’t ready to teach it to him yet.”
“I heard that from Frances as well,” said Fay. “Why do you think Massimo was holding out on Edward?”
Orla lowered her voice. “If you want to know the truth, I think there never was any super-secret fencing technique. I think it was just something Massimo said to make himself sound more interesting. I know he was in the British Olympic team, but he didn’t even place at the Games. He hasn’t fenced competitively for years – decades probably. He is just a provincial fencing instructor who tries to make himself sound more interesting than he is.”
“Did things ever get really heated between the three of them?”
“The atmosphere between Massimo and Edward was very tense on the day I resigned. I thought they were going to come to blows. Edward said he was going to tell the world that Massimo was nothing but a fraud and a trickster who lured people to his studio with promises he never intended to keep. And Massimo said that he would tell everyone what Edward was really doing on Bluebell Island, which would make a lot of people very unhappy.”
“Do you know what he meant by that?”
“I have no idea. They were standing toe-to-toe and yelling at each other. I really believe that if a beginner’s class hadn’t started arriving at that moment one of them might have thrown a punch.”
“Do you have any idea what Massimo was referring to? What was Edward really doing on the island?”
“Sorry. I don’t know. All I know is that just talking about it made him furious.”
“What do you think happened to Edward?” Fay asked. “If you had to guess the most likely scenario?”
“He was stabbed by a fencing sword, wasn’t he?”
“It looks that way, yes.”
“So, basically, you are asking me if I think that Massimo Galliano - Maxie Galway as was - is capable of running a man through with a sword.”
“I’m not sure it’s as clear-cut as that, but I wouldn’t mind knowing your opinion on it.”
“I think Massimo is a conman and a trickster, and everything that Edward accused him of being. I sincerely hope that I will sue him successfully in the Employment Commission and that he will be forced to compensate me for what he did to me. But to believe him capable of murder?” She shook her head. “I can’t see it. It’s inconceivable that he could do such a thing. But then it’s inconceivable to me that anyone could do such a thing, so I’m probably not the best judge.”
The Cat That Got the Cream Page 13