A Plummet in the Polls

by Alana Ling

‘What?’ I squealed.

  Sam looked at me.

  ‘Indeed. And I can’t say I blame them. I looked for Arthur just like you did, but I didn’t have anyone to verify my whereabouts. And apparently it looks like he was pushed from my side of the building.’

  ‘It’s ludicrous. Harold would never hurt a fly,’ Althea said, her head shaking.

  ‘Does Daniel know this?’ I asked.

  ‘He’s the one that suggested it,’ Harold replied.

  I gasped. ‘That’s crazy. Why hasn’t he arrested you then?’

  ‘Because he’s the mayor,’ Althea said. ‘They don’t want to cause an uproar and panic before they have solid evidence. So, they said he can only stay at home or visit City Hall, but can’t go anywhere else. He’s technically on house arrest. It’s atrocious they think he would ever do that.’

  Harold nodded. ‘But they are just doing their job.’

  ‘I’m going to have a word with Daniel. That’s unbelievable,’ I said.

  Harold sat down. ‘No need, my dear child. That’s why I’ve asked you here today.’

  I looked at Sam and she looked at Althea. ‘What do we have to do with this?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Well, we would like to hire you,’ Althea said.

  ‘Indeed. Effie hasn’t stopped raving about your success with Poppy Guildford’s case. And it seems you girls have the knack for investigative work,’ Harold added.

  Sam raised her eyebrow.

  ‘We’re not detectives though.’ I reasoned with him. ‘I’m sure the police are working on it. Poppy’s murder was solved by luck.’

  He waved his arm in front of us. ‘Nonsense. Luck had nothing to do with it. You paid attention to the detail and you got them before our police. Which of course begs the question, what do we actually pay them for, but that’s a topic for the next mayor, whoever that may be,’ Harold said.

  ‘But—,’ I started.

  ‘Girls, we trust you. Joanna, my darling, we’ve known you since you were a baby. You practically grew up with Ollie. We need you at this moment and you’re the only one we can trust with this,’ Althea said. ‘Harold’s retiring. I don’t want all his hard work for this town to be tarnished by incompetence.’

  ‘Surely, I’m more incompetent than the entire police—,’ I said.

  ‘We’ll do it,’ Sam said. ‘Of course we’ll do it. Right, Jo?’

  Sam looked at me with a wide smile that I’d learned to be terrified of. I hadn’t seen it since we’d worked on Poppy’s case and it was putting me on edge.

  ‘Okay, we’ll look into it. But I can’t promise anything,’ I said.

  Althea clapped her hands together. Harold gave a sigh of relief.

  ‘That’s all I could ask for. And don’t worry. You will be compensated for your time,’ Harold said.

  I shook my head. ‘I’m doing this for you, Harold. We don’t need compensation—.’

  ‘Anyway, that’s a subject for later,’ Althea said. ‘Let’s get you girls started. Can we help with anything?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘For starters, Harold, you can tell us where you went when we were looking for Arthur.’

  Althea put her hands on Harold’s shoulders and massaged them.

  ‘I searched for him. Initially. But then I gave up after the second door I knocked on,’ Harold started. ‘Wait a minute, I thought. Why am I looking for him? He should be down there introducing himself to the town he pretends to love so much. Why is the current mayor looking for that sly man? So, I gave up, took the lift and came back down. I was thirsty and I needed something to calm my nerves.’

  Sam was taking notes and I was watching the First couple. Was Althea massaging him to give him comfort, or was she holding her hands that close to his neck because she wanted him to be careful what he said?

  When I caught myself thinking all those things, I gave myself a mental slap. Althea and Harold were not murderers. They were my godparents, damn it, and I couldn’t think that of them.

  ‘What drink did you get?’ I asked.

  ‘A scotch. There was a stash in the back of house,’ he answered.

  ‘I’m never using that catering company again. So useless, leaving alcohol lying about,’ I said.

  I was pissed off, especially considering I had briefed them only an hour before the event had started.

  ‘Anyway, what happened next?’

  ‘I got my drink and I was coming back up to get you girls. I was going to tell you to give it up and to continue with the party when I heard everyone screaming. So I looked over and saw him there, at the bottom of the stairs. Twisted like that.’ Harold shuddered and closed his eyes.

  Althea covered her mouth.

  ‘You weren’t holding a glass when we saw you,’ I said.

  Harold looked up at Althea and she pursed her lips. ‘That’s because I dropped it when I saw Arthur. It broke next to him. And that’s why Daniel thinks I’m involved. He says I could have lost grip of my glass while I was trying to push Arthur off.’

  ‘We were on the first floor of east wing. Why did you go to west wing when you came back up?’

  Harold looked down. ‘I got confused.’

  I took a deep breath.

  ‘I can’t believe Daniel said that.’ Sam huffed.

  ‘He’s doing his job. And he doesn’t know Harold the way I do,’ I said.

  Sam wasn’t satisfied. ‘Still. He’s the mayor of this town. He has been for so long.’

  ‘I guess that’s why we’re looking into the case of Arthur’s murder now,’ I said and Sam nodded.

  Althea and Harold smiled.

  Coming out of Harold’s house, we walked to Bean Therapy. As we turned the corner of the mayor’s house, a tall blond man crashed into us.

  ‘Ollie, I’m so sorry,’ I said.

  He stared at Sam and replied to me. ‘Don’t be silly, Jo. It was my fault. Ms. Tully, how are you?’ he said, taking Sam’s hand in his and kissing the back of her palm. My mouth watered with the juicy blueberry tartness that described Ollie.

  Sam’s cheeks turned red and she curtsied. I stared her down and held myself from bursting out laughing.

  ‘I’m very well, thank you, and yourself?’ she said in a very enunciated accent that was definitely not hers.

  ‘All the better for seeing you.’ He smiled. ‘Did you just come out of daddy’s house?’

  ‘Indeed,’ I said.

  ‘So I assume you’ll be helping him out with the case?’

  We nodded.

  ‘How marvellous. Thank you so much, Ms. Tully. We are forever indebted to you,’ he said, unable to take his eyes off her.

  Sam turned even redder and I was afraid another compliment would turn her into a beetroot.

  ‘You don’t need to thank us yet, Ollie. We haven’t found who did it,’ I said.

  It was like I wasn’t there. He took Sam’s hand again and kissed it. ‘I’m absolutely certain you will, Ms. Tully. My family and I have all the confidence in your abilities. I shall leave you to get back to it. Hope to see you soon.’

  A few more awkward glances and blushing and Ollie went into his parents’ house, allowing us to continue with our journey.

  ‘Ollie’s got such a big crush on you,’ I said.

  Sam blinked. ‘You think so?’

  ‘Are you serious? He can’t keep his eyes off you. He barely acknowledged me. Never mind that we’ve known each other since we were babies and I’ve never seen him so infatuated.’

  Sam shrugged. ‘Maybe…who knows? Who cares?’ she mumbled.

  ‘You should.’

  Sam flicked her hair and looked away from me. ‘We’ve got more important things to be getting on with. So let’s,’ she said and got into the car.

  ‘Good morning, girls,’ Devi chimed as soon as we entered Bean Therapy half an hour later.

  We saw them as soon as the booth we frequented came into view. A large bouquet of pink roses was resting on the table. It was even bigger than the previous one and tasted
of rose Turkish delights.

  ‘There’s a hundred and one roses in there,’ Devi said and shrieked. ‘I counted.’

  Sam pouted and took the card off the top to read it. I leaned in, but she pulled it away from me.

  ‘It’s from Oliver, of course,’ Devi told me. ‘He says he’s only just met her, but he misses her as if they’ve spent a lifetime together.’

  Sam glared at Devi and sat down.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that. You would have done the same. Don’t judge me.’ Devi chuckled and placed a fresh brew of Bali coffee on the table. Sam attacked the pot first, pouring a generous serving for herself.

  ‘We just saw him actually,’ I explained to Devi. ‘Harold wants us to investigate Arthur’s murder.’

  Devi gasped and placed her hand on her mouth. ‘Oh my God, how could I forget? You were there. How are you? And why does he want you to look into it?’

  I sat down and opened my laptop. ‘Because he’s a suspect and we need to clear his name.’

  ‘I don’t believe that for a second. He’s such a nice man,’ Devi said.

  ‘Where do we start, boss?’ Sam asked me.

  ‘I-I guess we start from the closest person to Arthur. His wife,’ I said and pulled her address from my guest list.

  Eight

  On Monday morning, the following day, we pulled up at Arthur’s house, which was situated deep in the suburbs and squashed between two mansions. It was a three-storey house with stonework all around and gravel in the front garden. Two cars were parked outside: a black Bentley and a Nissan Leaf plugged into an electric point.

  We knocked on the door and a petite woman with long dark hair opened the door. Her eyes were dark and stained with mascara. Her lipstick was a gentle shade of pink and she was wearing a black bathrobe.

  ‘Hello,’ she croaked.

  ‘Hi, Mrs. Foster? I’m Joanna, Joanna Christie. I was the party planner for the gala,’ I said, making sure to extend my hand to her. She shook it lightly, looking at Samantha.

  ‘And this is my assistant, Samantha Tully,’ I added.

  ‘How may I be of assistance?’ Mrs. Foster asked.

  The flavour of honey and oats dried up my tongue and I licked my lips.

  ‘We wanted to offer you our sincere condolences and to bring you this,’ I said and passed her a tray of vanilla cupcakes.

  She took it with both hands and stared at it for a few moments.

  ‘You can enter, if you would like. May I interest you in some tea?’ she asked and we stepped through to the living room.

  It was a large, open, high-ceilinged room with white walls and antique furniture. The centrepiece, a fireplace against the wall with mosaic representations of the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ on either side and a dove on the chimney caught my eye.

  A vase with carnations tasting of chocolate and hazelnut biscotti was positioned across the stone shelf and a couple of rice pudding wedding pictures were standing dusty next to a polished frame containing a diploma that read ‘University of Haven-on-Sea.’ It tasted of aloe vera.

  I winced at the conflicting flavours. Sam took a seat and I mimicked her.

  ‘Just some water would be great,’ I said.

  ‘Are you certain? I have acquired some of the best organic tea in the market. You must try,’ she said.

  Sam nodded and I gave in.

  Melissa took the cakes with her to the other side of the room where the open plan kitchen was, and set them down on the counter.

  ‘This is a huge house,’ Sam commented.

  ‘I know,’ I said.

  Melissa returned with a copper tray that had seen better years. On it was a Chinese-style teapot that tasted of ginseng, with small ornate cups and three cupcakes. She set the tray down and started serving us.

  ‘Thank you for thinking of me. Milk? Sugar?’ she asked.

  I shook my head and grabbed the cup she handed me. ‘Well, it’s the least we could do. I can only imagine how you’re feeling.’

  She handed Sam her cup and then proceeded to sit down next to her. ‘Frankly,’ she said, looking at me, ‘I haven’t grasped what’s occurred yet. It all feels like—like a mirage. I insist on thinking he will enter through that door any moment now and express to me how ghastly his day was.’ She gazed off into the distance, in the direction of the door, with a gentle smile drawn on her lips.

  ‘When was the last time you saw him?’ Sam asked.

  Melissa’s gaze remained frozen in place. ‘At the gala. He parted from me to prepare for his speech and I mingled with the guests. My last words to him were “see you later.” I-I never did.’ She covered her eyes with her hands and sobbed.

  Sam rubbed her back and grimaced at me.

  ‘Was he okay? When he left you?’ Melissa looked at me, the whites of her eyes as clear and dry as before.

  ‘He was his expected self. I didn’t observe anything atypical about his person.’

  I pursed my lips and took a sip of my tea. It tasted like warm water and I could tell no caffeine or herbs were in my brew. Either this woman’s organic tea was of terrible quality or she didn’t know how to make it. Its only saving grace was that the cup tasted of ginseng, but that could only stretch so far.

  Silence enveloped us and Sam slurped her tea. She winced. I held myself from laughing but I gave her a knowing look. We had to find out more, but Melissa wasn’t being conversational, which considering she had just lost her husband, I couldn’t fault her for.

  I slammed my teacup on the saucer and sighed. Melissa looked my way.

  ‘Are you all right? Is there something amiss with the tea?’ she asked.

  Where do I start, I wanted to say. Instead I diverted our conversation to the topic at hand.

  ‘No, no, the tea is lovely. Thank you. It’s just, I keep seeing him—there—laying at the bottom of the stairs. I can’t shake the image out of my head.’

  She nodded. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Sam said and put her hand on Melissa’s knee. ‘It’s not as if it was your fault. I hope you didn’t see him like we did.’

  Melissa squeezed her eyes shut and took a few breaths. ‘Unfortunately, I did.’

  ‘Were you there when…’ I started saying, but I faked a crack in my voice. ‘When he landed?’

  She shook her head. ‘I…no. I wasn’t. Thank the Lord. I attempted to find him also. But naturally, I didn’t find him until it was too late.’

  ‘Oh really?’ Sam said. ‘Where did you look?’

  Melissa looked from Sam to me and back to my assistant and blinked a few times. ‘I-I looked in his office. It was the place he was supposed to be in to prepare.’

  ‘That’s on the second floor, right?’ I said. She nodded. ‘We were looking on the first floor. I’m surprised we didn’t bump into you.’

  Melissa looked at her lap and wiped invisible crumbs from it. ‘Well, when I didn’t find him, I used the lavatories. By the time I came out, he had already…’ she started to explain, but then found the solace of her hands one more time and sobbed into them.

  Sam gave me a pointed look and massaged Melissa’s back again.

  ‘Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt your husband, Mrs. Foster?’ I asked.

  She lifted her head and wiped invisible snot from her nose with her fingers. ‘No. I don’t…although I believe I recollect that Sleazy Meyers and Arthur were having an argument earlier that day. I have no idea what it was about, but when Sleazy came out he was hurling threats of the “I will destroy you” nature,’ she said.

  I picked up my tea and looked horrified for her benefit.

  ‘How very interesting,’ I said.

  We left Melissa Foster to grieve with her organic concoction of whatever she thought she had served us and we walked to my car as another one, a dark blue Vauxhall Insignia pulled in.

  Tall and scrawny, onion and chilli soup Nick appeared from the passenger’s side and Daniel came out from the driver’s. No matter how m
any times I looked at them both, my neurons couldn’t digest their flavours combined. Daniel cocked his head as he approached us and his brow didn’t separate from his forehead all the while.

  ‘Ms. Tully, Ms. Christie. What a coincidence to find you here,’ he said.

  I crossed my arms in front of me and greeted him with a wide smile.

  ‘Why, Mr. Anderson, fancy seeing you here,’ I said.

  He looked at Nick and chuckled. ‘I’m here to investigate a murder, Joanna. What are you doing here? Not the same, I imagine?’

  Sam leaned against my car. ‘Of course we are.’

  I rolled my eyes before Daniel saw me and kept my gaze steady.

  ‘Is that a problem, Detective?’ I asked him.

  The fists balled up at his sides gave me all the answer I needed, but I played along. Daniel had been insistent that I didn’t get involved in Poppy’s murder investigation, and had even gone so far as to put me behind bars to stop me.

  ‘Well, if that were true, which I truly hope it isn’t, I would tell you that you’re obstructing justice and perhaps arrest you. So, shall I ask again? Are you here on police business or are you here just on business, say, to help Mrs. Foster plan her husband’s funeral?’ He wrapped his arms in front of his chest and Nick, who had still not spoken a word, stood next to him and looped his thumbs through his belt, pushing his chest outwards.

  ‘As a matter of fact, we are here on private business relating to Mr. Foster’s passing,’ I said.

  ‘What she said,’ Sam added with a nod and an attitude.

  Daniel huffed. ‘Jo, we’ve been through this. Do you want to get yourself in danger? What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ he whispered, breaking all pretend formalities.

  I walked in front of him and stopped only a few feet opposite. I could see his chest rising and my mind could imagine the saloon-cowboy theme song that would be playing if we were in a film and about to duel.

  ‘I’m doing the job I was hired for and nothing less,’ I replied.

  He slapped his cheek. ‘And you have. You planned the mayor’s gala and now that’s done. Job well done. Almost,’ he said, pointing to the elephant in the room.