by Anne Lown
“I saw the alien,” Carmie butted in, “coming out of the convenience store.”
George stared at Jenny for an explanation of what her friend was on about. She shrank back in her chair until she realised what a get-out it was. “The camper, he was dressed as an alien.”
“Ah, I see. When did you see him?”
“Two days ago,” Carmie said. “He recognised me and ran off. He looked like a tramp.”
George got out his notebook and scratched his pen over the paper. Jenny was finding it hard to sit still. A question was burning a hole in her mind. The thought of someone in the village capable of hurting people to such an extent of attacking them while they were unable to fight back was freaking her out.
She leant across the table and spoke in a low voice. “Tom, how did he die?”
George seemed to be studying her face, maybe trying to work out whether to speak or not. After a few moments, he cleared his throat again and closed the gap between them. “Keep it to yourself. We haven’t released the details, but he suffocated of a sort.”
“What do you mean, suffocated? Did someone put a bag over his head?”
“No,” George said, “they placed a very heavy stone on his chest. It’s possibly what stopped him being able to breathe.”
Jenny gazed at George, her mouth hanging open. She blinked rapidly, unsure of what it all meant. “I don’t get it. Why didn’t he just push it off?”
George’s lips were pressed together. He’d obviously said too much already. Something in him made him carry on—maybe it was the connection they had in her flushing out the killer and him saving her from certain death? “He was pegged and tied down. There was nothing he could do to save himself.”
Jenny shuddered. What a cruel way for someone to die. It couldn’t have been as speedy a death like a knife wound. The poor man must’ve suffered until the end, afraid and alone. A terrible thought struck her.
What if something like this happens to Scott?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jenny’s face smarted from the cold air. Now back outside, the two women stood in the pub car park. She hadn’t wanted to stay with Martin arriving soon for his first pint of the day. The thought of him leering at her was more than she could bear at that moment. She had too much on her plate to entertain that man in her mind.
Carmie tugged at her arm. “I need to go back to the shop.”
Jenny nodded. Her friend still had her job to do. They scurried along the path, heads bowed against the wind.
“I’ll give you a hand once I’ve been in the convenience store.” She gave Carmie a wink. There was nothing like a bit of cake to go with their tea to right a few wrongs.
The overhead heater caressed Jenny’s hair, blowing warmth beneath her collar. She would’ve stayed put, but the owner had fixed his attention on her, and it wasn’t friendly. The rows of shelves bulging with food items were her salvation. She snuck between them, flitting her gaze until she found what she wanted. A Victoria sandwich was just what they needed. Not too fussy to make her feel sick.
Something at the end of the aisle caught in the edge of her vision. Jenny turned her head to see what it was, but it had already moved on. She strode across the tiled floor, eager to cement the reality with what she thought it might be. At the end of the rack, she was facing the freezers on the back wall. The upper compartments were fronted by glass doors, her own reflection in it. She peered around the corner, just enough to see what was mirrored farther along. Jenny took in a breath and held it. She hadn’t been wrong.
It’s him.
She made the brave decision to face her fear and stepped out into his path. “I know you, don’t I?”
“If you call me mugging you knowing someone, then yes, you do.”
Jenny couldn’t believe the man’s brazen attitude. He didn’t appear sorry or embarrassed about chasing her and pinning her to the ground. She stared, not sure what to say next now he’d stolen her thunder.
The man stretched out a hand for her to shake. “I’m Dan.”
Against her better judgement, she shook it. “Jenny.”
“We need to talk,” he said, “but not here.”
“Come next door, my friend’s just opening up.”
He followed her to the counter and then into the charity shop. Carmie’s eyes widened when she saw him enter.
“It’s you,” she said, thrusting out her forefinger in his direction.
Jenny locked the door behind her. They didn’t need customers interrupting their conversation. All three of them walked into the office and hid from the outside world. She grabbed one of the folding chairs and passed it to Dan, then sat on one herself.
“I take it you’ve heard someone else has died?” Dan looked from one to the other.
Jenny nodded. “What do you know about that?”
Dan sighed and leant forward, his elbows on his knees. “We were the ones who found him. Shane was pretty freaked out; he’s not good with stressful situations.”
“You called the police?”
“Yeah. The guy was already dead by the time we got there. Not a nice way to go.”
There was something in the way he was choosing his words carefully that made Jenny feel like he had something else to say. Maybe something he was struggling to understand himself. She waited, sure he would come out with it if she gave him enough time.
“The thing is,” he said, sitting up straight and placing a hand on his hip.
The man can’t sit still.
“The thing is, I think he did it to himself.”
“What?” Jenny wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “How?”
“I think he tied himself to those stakes. It’s perfectly possible. Shane and I tried it out this morning in his mum’s garden. He could’ve got out of it if he’d wanted to.”
Jenny stood. She ran her hands through her hair. “Why wouldn’t he save himself if he’d had the chance? I don’t believe it.”
Dan shrugged. “We can give you a demonstration.”
“Where is your friend?”
He laughed. “Hiding round my mate Alex’s house. We were there when the first guy died. Shane’s frightened of you.” He nodded towards Carmie.
Her mouth dropped open, both hands raising to her chest. “Me?”
“Yeah, you scared him.” He was smiling now.
Jenny waved her arm in the air, trying to get both of their attention. “Hang on, you are saying he put those stones on his own chest?”
“No, of course not. Maybe someone he knew came across him. Maybe he thought he was being rescued.”
“But you just said he could’ve got himself free. Why would he tie himself up like that in the first place?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Jenny could have kicked herself. Yes, it was. He was making himself out to be a victim. He was trying to make the police look elsewhere for the killer. She sat back down, barely believing the words she was about to say. “Tom did it. He murdered the dealer.”
*******
Scott rapped on the charity shop door. He had his forehead pressed against the glass, peering into the unlit shop on the other side. Jenny could’ve laughed at the face he was pulling if getting him down there wasn’t so important. He’d been reluctant to leave Chantal. All very romantic, but not of any great help.
“I can’t be long,” he said, “she can’t stop crying.”
Jenny would’ve felt sorry for the woman if she wasn’t linked to two murders, even if it was only by marriage. “Go in the office, I’ve someone I want you to meet.”
She locked the door and followed him through to the back room. Dan was standing by the time she got in there.
There seemed to be a face-off going on between him and Scott.
“Oi, you two, cut the manly crap and let’s get to the bottom of this…whatever this is.”
Scott was still squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest.
“Don’t even bother,” she said. “He manage
d to beat Jason the other day.”
“You’re the mugger?” Scott asked.
Dan nodded. “I couldn’t let someone give those butts to the police. They might be able to identify Shane. Surely you can understand that?”
Scott turned to look at Jenny with a quizzical expression. She knew what he was getting at.
“They’ve got one,” she said. “You missed it, so I gave it to George.” Jenny cringed, now aware of what she’d done.
Dan sighed, clearly peeved. “It can’t be helped now.”
Scott hadn’t stopped staring at her. “Why am I here?”
She sat on the seat she’d been on before he’d arrived. “We think Tom was the one who murdered the dealer.”
“His name was Ed.” Scott put his hands in his trouser pockets and lowered his gaze to the floor. “He was a mate from school. I hadn’t seen him in years until me and Jason bumped into him last May.”
She reached out her hand and placed it on his forearm. “I’m sorry, but why would Tom want to hurt him?”
Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. Territory, maybe. Can’t imagine it being anything else, unless that’s who he thought was having an affair with his wife.”
That got Jenny’s attention. “You’re saying the police are right and Chantal has been having an affair?”
He shrugged again. “Maybe, but not with me. We’re just friends. Did you know Tom still knocked her about?”
Jenny laughed. “I didn’t even know who he was until this last week.”
Her mind was reeling. Was it possible Tom had attacked Ed over his wife if he was the one she’d been seeing behind his back? It certainly seemed more plausible than a turf war, but it didn’t answer the question of why someone would, in turn, want to kill Tom.
Was Chantal seeing more than one man?
“Who else was coming and going at the house?”
“Plenty of people,” Scott said, “and they weren’t all customers. Tom had a lot of friends. After all, he had all day to hang out at home.”
“Anyone we know?”
She could see he was getting irritable with all the questions. He’d already crossed his arms over his chest, and spots of colour were rising in his cheeks. Scott was much more a practical man. If something needed sorting out, he could do it. When it came to thinking things through, that was too much brainwork for him.
“What I don’t get is this theory: how could Tom die from a rock? There aren’t any around here heavy enough,” Scott said.
Dan shifted his weight across his feet. Scott was questioning his judgement, and it seemed he was going to defend it. “Not just the rock, there were footprints on his jacket. Someone must have stood one foot on the arm he could’ve used to get free, and his chest. If they leant on him enough, he’d have found it too hard to breathe. Then there was that inhaler. We thought it had to be his because it wasn’t there the other day.”
Scott’s face changed. He’d suddenly lost his defensiveness. “I’d forgot about that. He smoked, so it totally slipped my mind.”
This was something Jenny wanted to know about. “Who else would’ve known he needed an inhaler? I take it he was an asthmatic?”
“It wasn’t something he talked about. Maybe only to his closest mates.”
Dan butted in. “That’s why we think it’s how he died. The inhaler was in the hand he could’ve used to release himself. In his panic he probably didn’t want to let go of it.”
Now they were getting somewhere. Jenny sipped at the hot drink Carmie had made. The woman had passed one out to each of them to help with the chill in the shop. The heating was taking its own sweet time warming the place up. Jenny considered all that’d been said. Someone close to Tom must’ve known about his condition. The man wouldn’t have been able to hold that inhaler in his hand while tightening the rope around his wrist. She’d have to get Dan to show her how that worked. It was still hard to believe the man could’ve tied himself down. In the meantime, she needed to work out who frequented the man’s house enough to know about it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Scott hadn’t stayed much longer in their company. He was too busy worrying about Chantal being on her own. Jenny waved him off with the flick of her hand, dismissing his usefulness at the same time. He clearly didn’t want to help her, even though it was for his own benefit.
As for Carmie, she had work to do and couldn’t leave the shop closed any longer. When the customers poured in, Jenny felt like she was in her way. There was no chance of carrying on the conversation, and she still hadn’t managed to locate Nick. The relief she experienced at knowing it wasn’t him pegged out in the clearing had her legs wobbling. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if anything had happened to him because she’d sent him to investigate.
She forced herself from her thoughts and glanced around the room. In among the customers, Dan was leaning against the counter that housed the till. He’d clearly been watching her. The sudden realisation on her part brought colour to her cheeks. That, in turn, had her blushing all the more.
“Need any help?” Dan still stared.
“I’ve got to find Nick, but I don’t know where he lives.”
“We can ask around together. I find people are always telling me more than they want to. I must be a good listener.” He laughed, lightening the mood and the tension in her body.
She turned to her friend, catching her attention before she served her next customer. “Is that all right with you, if we go?”
Carmie nodded but didn’t look up. She appeared too busy reaching to grab the garments a woman standing on the other side of the till was about to buy. “Go, go.”
Outside, Jenny drew her arms to her chest and held her collar up over her mouth, protecting the lower part of her face from the chill. She glanced along the high street at the build-up of people who’d ventured out. Even for a Saturday lunchtime, there were still more than usual.
I wonder if Nick is hanging around somewhere.
Her gaze alighted on the pub across the road. There would be plenty of customers in there by now. The place had been open over an hour and was the perfect spot for a gossip and to exchange who knew what.
“Do you want to try there first?” Dan must’ve been following her movements because he was pointing to the pub.
She nodded. “Worth a shot.”
He grabbed the handle and pulled back the heavy door, allowing her to walk through first. The inside of the building was indeed busy. She surveyed the faces that turned to watch them enter—again the vultures were looking for any morsels they could come across. To her delight, one person in particular had left the sanctuary of his home. Graham was stowed at his usual table, gingerly trying to sip his blackcurrant without spilling it down himself. Jenny decided he’d be the best place to start.
“Hi, Graham, I was waiting for you the other night. Are you well?”
He nodded, the liquid slopping about in the glass while he attempted to return it to the table in front of him. “Yes, I am now. Had a bit of a cold.”
She waited while he pronounced each word, stopping here and there to think what it was he was saying. She’d gotten used to his slower conversation because every word he spoke was worth listening to. Jenny reached out her hand and squeezed his arm.
“Glad to hear it. Tell me, have you noticed anything strange going on lately?” Jenny shuffled her chair nearer to his wheelchair. Now the crowd knew who’d come in, they returned to their conversations, and the noise level rose. She didn’t like to ask the man to repeat himself so didn’t want to miss any of his keen observations.
Graham leant in her direction over his armrest. “I’ve not seen Nick, he’s not been in, but I’ll tell you who has. That Tom, the one who doesn’t drink.”
“Yes, he was here the other night, even had a go at me.”
“Really?”
“It was when I hoped you’d be in. So, what’s this about Nick? Is that unusual for him not to be around?”
Graham nodded. “Like clockwork, that’s what he is. Very strange.”
Jenny relaxed back in her chair. There were two people behaving out of sorts. Tom, who’d suddenly started getting drunk while he was teetotal, and Nick not around to pontificate about his take on life.
Does he know Tom’s dead?
She leant forward again so only the three of them could hear. “Tom was found staked to the ground in the clearing near where the other guy died. Someone murdered him.”
“Yes, I heard. He must’ve fallen out with someone.”
“Why do you say that?”
Graham shrugged. “He returned to the drink. It must’ve been personal.”
Dan interrupted them. “Do you know where Nick lives?”
“On the edge of the village,” Graham said, “in that old cottage near the river.”
Jenny narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t a clue where he meant. It was a good job Dan did—he was nodding and seemed to understand the reference. She squeezed Graham’s arm again and thanked him for sharing with them. At last, she could talk to Nick and find out if he’d had any luck with the knives.
*******
The curtains were still closed in the downstairs windows and made the house appear empty. Surely Nick wouldn’t have left his property seeming so vacant. That was just asking for someone to break in. Jenny banged again on the front door, this time ignoring the letterbox and using her knuckles on the old wood. He hadn’t said he was going anywhere, but then he could be on the secretive side.
“Maybe he’s gone into town.”
She was about to walk away until the curtain in the window to her left moved. There was clearly a parting where there hadn’t been on their arrival.
“I’ll get him to open up.” Dan leant over her and rammed his fist at the centre of the door, making it judder on its hinges. He was just getting into the swing of it when the front door flew back and bounced against the inside wall.
“You’ll pay for it if you’ve done any damage.”