A Plummet in the Polls

by Alana Ling

  I laughed. ‘Almost, exactly. Well, you see, I’ve been hired again,’ I told him.

  He sighed from relief. ‘So, you are planning Arthur’s funeral. Why didn’t you say so?’

  Nick chuckled like his boss.

  ‘I’m not. I’ve been hired to find who killed Arthur Foster,’ I said.

  Daniel stared at me. Nick kept laughing and a look at Sam made him stop. I didn’t dare look behind me to find out what she’d done.

  ‘By whom? With what skills?’ was all Daniel managed to say.

  ‘I prefer to keep that to myself.’

  ‘Jo, we have had this conversation so many times I’m practically sick of telling you. You are not a professional. You cannot be doing my job without all my knowledge. I and the whole department at Haven has trained for years to be able to do this.’

  ‘I did find Poppy’s murderer,’ I said.

  ‘Pff, beginner’s luck,’ Nick scoffed.

  I stared him down and when he stopped his laughing I looked back at Daniel, raising my eyebrow.

  ‘Well, he is right, you know,’ he mumbled.

  I gasped. I took a few steps back. He tried to follow me but I stopped him mid-step.

  ‘I’m—,’ he started to say but I shook my head.

  ‘I really thought I’d proven myself to you, but now I see you still think of me as this fragile little thing that keeps getting in the middle of things.’

  He tried to get a word in. I didn’t let him. I knew he wasn’t going to be on my side on this one. It was just me, Sam and our combined wits on this case.

  Nine

  I walked into the café, slamming the door behind me, almost hitting Sam in the face. Devi’s mouth dropped and she came out from behind the counter to check on me.

  ‘Are you okay, love?’ she asked.

  Sam closed the door after stepping into the café and gave me a momentary scowl.

  ‘I’m fuming,’ I replied.

  ‘What happened?’ Devi asked Sam as I walked past her and sat down in my usual booth.

  ‘Met Daniel outside the wife’s house and he basically rehashed everything that happened last time we were investigating,’ Sam said.

  ‘Beginner’s luck?’ I said. I slapped my hand on the table, making a customer sitting two tables down from me turn around.

  Devi smirked. ‘Is that what he said? Oh, naughty, naughty detective.’

  I responded with a frown and Devi retreated back to the safety of her counter. Moments later I was served a fresh brew of Bali coffee. I made a move to fill up my cup but Sam snatched it out of my hands and filled hers first.

  ‘What I want to know is where he found that Nick dude. He looks more newbie than we do. And he wasn’t even there for Poppy’s murder investigation,’ she said.

  I was staring at her and only realised when she looked back at me.

  ‘What? You weren’t the only one investigating. I was there too. I was offended.’

  ‘I still need my coffee,’ I said and she remembered to pass it back to me.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said and sipped the hot drink. ‘Now, let’s get back to business and prove them both wrong.’

  ‘Did Melissa have the means?’ I asked.

  Sam nodded. ‘She was in his office. I mean, she says he wasn’t there, but who can guarantee that she was speaking the truth?’

  I thought of my encounter with Arthur in his office and how it connected to the reception hall.

  ‘She would have had to drag him all the way out of his office, through the corridor, and throw him off the balcony. One of us would have seen her, surely,’ I said.

  Sam squeezed her eyes in concentration for a few seconds and then opened them wide. ‘I don’t know.’ She sighed.

  ‘But, yes, I guess she did have the means. But did she have the motive?’

  ‘She didn’t look that sad that her husband was gone,’ Sam commented.

  ‘Yeah, her face looked a mess, but her eyes looked normal. That’s no motive,’ I said and all of a sudden it came back to me. ‘I thought I’d seen her before.’

  ‘I mean, of course you have. You’ve been in and out of City Hall for the past few months,’ Sam said.

  I shook my head. ‘No, that’s not it. I’d seen her before, but only in passing. I saw her on the day of the event. She was talking to someone on the phone. Did you notice anything weird about her?’

  Sam put her cup down. ‘That she’s a walking thesaurus? I mean, half the words she mumbles I don’t even know, and I’m English.’

  ‘Exactly!’ I said. ‘I only remember seeing her because of the words she was using on the phone. She was being over the top and I thought it was weird. Then she looked at me and disappeared into the hallway.’

  ‘Who was she talking to?’ Sam asked.

  ‘I don’t really know. But she did give us a lead.’

  I took the laptop from Sam and searched for Sylvester. Nothing came up.

  ‘He’s not on Friendzone,’ I said.

  Sam gasped. ‘Who isn’t on Friendzone these days? Even your mum is.’

  It was my turn to be shocked. ‘She does?’

  Sam looked away from me and took a not-so-innocent sip of her coffee.

  There was so much I was finding out about Miss Effie that I was starting to think I didn’t know my mum at all.

  ‘Anyway, that’s a topic for another day,’ I said. ‘But Melissa said Sylvester Meyers had an argument with Arthur before he died. That could be a motive.’

  Sam grimaced. ‘Why did she keep calling him Sleazy though?’

  ‘A very good question,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should pay him a visit and find out.’

  It was four o’clock when we left Bean Therapy, so we headed straight for City Hall. The reception desk had been placed back in front of the split staircase and the blood had been wiped from the marble floor.

  Life was back to normal. For everyone but Arthur of course.

  We checked in with the receptionist and went upstairs to the second floor where Sylvester’s office was situated.

  When we stepped onto the floor, I looked all the way down to the ground and tried to remember the angle of Arthur’s body.

  I could see the first-floor balcony on the opposite side, where Sam and I had been looking for him.

  ‘No, we would have seen Melissa if she’d pushed him out of this floor,’ I said and headed down the hall. At the end, I turned right and found the last office that had a number on the outside, two hundred and thirty-two, and knocked on it.

  No response came from the other side. Sam rapped on the door, louder this time.

  ‘Oh, do come in. You don’t have to knock, you know,’ someone said on the other side and Sam pushed the door open.

  We were greeted by an open space and three desks, two of which were manned. It looked like the desks hadn’t been cleaned or changed since City Hall was built. Green lampshades collected dust on each desk, accompanied by piles of books and files. The unmanned desk had an ashtray on top of sheets of paper and the room was pungent with cigarette smoke.

  ‘It’s nice to see that our people’s representatives are abiding by the law,’ Sam said and pinched her nose shut.

  The guy at the middle desk gave us a quick nod before he got up, picked up his briefcase and excused himself, leaving us alone with Sylvester, who was occupying the desk on the right. His hair looked greasy and in a state, his moustache was grey with yellow tips over his lips. He was supporting his head on one hand and squinting over a piece of paper. His ginger flavour combined with the cigarette odour gave me a smoked taste that made me cringe and become desperate for water.

  Instead I looked at Sam and her cucumber notes managed to soothe my tongue.

  ‘Are you going to stare at me for the rest of the afternoon, because I can leave you here while I go home,’ he said, not bothering to lift his eyes.

  His voice brought me back to life and I took a seat opposite him.

  ‘This is your office?’ I said, adding shock
to my pitch. ‘I thought you were going to take over the party’s leadership.’

  Now Sylvester decided to look at us. Sam sat down next to me.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ he said. ‘But I have to wait until they’ve finished the investigation and to give people a chance to mourn him before I can take Arthur’s office.’

  I raised my eyebrow at Sam.

  ‘I see,’ I said and looked back at him.

  ‘If you ask me, giving an office power over people is the saddest part. But I’ll wait. It’s not like the leadership is going to go anywhere.’

  ‘Indeed,’ I said, ‘so you will be taking over?’

  Sylvester cackled with an inhumane and wet laugh that resembled a cross between a duck and a donkey’s sounds. Sam pulled a face as he attempted to compose himself.

  ‘Who else would it go to? All the members are babies. Only a real man can take this position.’

  ‘So how come it was going to Arthur before it went to you?’ Sam asked, crossing her eyes and adding an extra flair of silly to her question.

  She could go from smart to stereotype in a matter of seconds. It was a scary sight.

  ‘That is a conversation for another day, my dear. But let’s just stay Arthur had his way of messing around with people’s lives,’ he said and quickly added, ‘God bless his soul.’

  ‘Is that why you two were arguing the day of the gala? Before, you know, he…’ I said.

  Sylvester looked at me and coughed. He retrieved a flask from a drawer in his desk and drank from it. I had seen people drink water when they had a cough, but whisky? Not very often. Its alcoholic woody smell infiltrated the room.

  ‘We argued on the day of the gala? When?’ he asked. Before I could answer his question, he continued. ‘We always argued anyway, so what? Does that mean I killed him? Arthur was a good man, but not very clever. I am more experienced so we always clashed.’

  ‘Sorry to be rude, but you look the same age. Or…you know what I mean,’ I said. He was in full flow now. I had to keep him talking.

  ‘I do. In fact, he was older than me. But I’ve been in politics far longer than he has. Had. It’s not always about age, sweetheart.’

  His term of endearment and his spiced taste made me cringe.

  ‘That’s true,’ Sam said, leaning forward. ‘I mean, look at me, I work for Jo who is so much older than me, but it doesn’t mean she knows more than me. And what do you know? I always save the day.’

  Sylvester smiled, but I didn’t.

  ‘Frowning will give you wrinkles,’ she said with an extra smile and I bit my lip to stop myself from biting her.

  ‘She’s funny.’ Sylvester pointed at her while looking at me and exhaled loudly in his effort to chuckle.

  ‘Hilarious, am I, right?’ I said with an eye-roll.

  ‘Enough with the boring stuff,’ Sam said, slapping her hands repeatedly on the desk. ‘How come I don’t remember you at the gala. You’d have thought I would remember such a gentleman?’

  He leaned in closer and smiled a crooked smile. I noticed a gold tooth on the side of his mouth and with that more shivers on my spine.

  ‘But I saw you, sweetheart. I was in the main hall the entire night with Mr. Jones and Mr. Black,’ he replied to her, pointing at the empty desks in the room.

  ‘I thought maybe you went looking for Arthur when he “disappeared?”’ she said.

  Sylvester shook his head. ‘No. Enough people went looking for him. I didn’t think my help would be productive.’

  I jumped, but thankfully Sylvester didn’t notice.

  ‘Really? Who else did you see go looking for him?’ I asked.

  He turned to me and squeezed his eyes and then shook his head. Had he forgotten I was there?

  ‘Well, I saw his wife of course. Who else? Oh, yes, Harold went upstairs. And a few others, but I didn’t see faces. And I wasn’t wearing my glasses. Why? Do you think one of them killed Arthur?’ he asked.

  I didn’t like how he was insinuating that Harold might have been one of those people, but I pursed my lips and nodded.

  ‘You never told me what the nature of your visit was, by the way.’

  ‘I-uh, we—,’ I said.

  ‘We were coming to ask if you think you’d want to do another gala later in the year to inaugurate your new position,’ Sam said.

  I looked at her, mouth agape. Sylvester turned to me and I shut my mouth. I smiled.

  ‘Nah, I don’t think that’s necessary. But I’ll get back to you once I’ve got my office,’ he said with a hint of a smirk.

  ‘Well, in that case, let’s not take any more of your time. You know where to find us,’ I dropped a business card in front of him, ‘so let me know. Also, if you remember any of the other faces you saw going upstairs looking for Arthur, give me a call, will you?’ I said and Sam and I left the office, closing the door behind us.

  Sam shuddered and made a noise to match her shaking.

  ‘Now I understand why Melissa calls him Sleazy,’ she said.

  I grimaced. ‘I know.’

  ‘Do you think he did it?’

  ‘Well, he seems awfully comfortable in his new position, even if he doesn’t have his own office yet. I don’t know what to think.’

  ‘Do you think it’s worth talking to Harold about what he said?’ she asked.

  I stared at her. ‘There’s no way Harold did it, Sam. No way. We need to find who else went up those stairs. One of those people is our killer.’

  Ten

  I arrived home at half five with Alfie begging for a walk. I checked behind the door for his lead and found a Post-it note on the back of the door that read: Alfie walked and pooped at 12.30 and 5. See you soon. Kit X.

  I smiled. He had promised and he had delivered.

  ‘Which means, you, little rascal, are just a greedy doggy, aren’t you?’ I said, patting Alfie’s head. He wiggled his tongue trying to lick my hands, but I grabbed his mouth shut and he assumed the position, belly up, for more affection.

  I rubbed his belly and closed the door behind me. After a few moments of affection, I reached the kitchen and opened the fridge. A bottle of white wine winked at me and I thanked it by pouring it into a glass. Alfie tried to convince me that he wanted some too, but I wasn’t fooled. Instead, I topped up his bowl with fresh water.

  As I lay on the couch in the conservatory, Alfie sat at my feet, accepting the fact that he was getting neither a walk nor alcohol from me.

  I tried to piece the day’s events together. Two interviews that had led to nothing. How had Sam and I not seen anyone else following us up the stairs? We hadn’t been that distracted, had we?

  Melissa didn’t seem the type to kill and didn’t look as if she had a motive to do so, despite her fake tears. Was there more to her marriage than she let on? Sylvester, on the other hand, had the most to gain from Arthur’s death. Not only was he going to cash in on the leadership of the National Reformation Union, but he was also a viable candidate for mayorship. Like he had said, he had more experience and he and Arthur had always argued.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell and Alfie’s protective bark as he darted towards the door. I dragged myself behind him.

  I should have known it was him. His raspberry cheesecake flavour gave me all the energy boost I needed. Kit smiled at me and came through the door, picking up Alfie in the process.

  ‘Hey, little buddy. Miss me already?’ he cooed.

  ‘Hi, Kit. Thank you for walking him.’

  He blew raspberries. ‘Don’t mention it. I said I wanted to help. How are you?’

  ‘Tired. This case makes no sense.’

  ‘Need any help? You know what they say: two brains are better than one.’

  I stood still and crossed my arms in front of my chest. He was really trying, bless his heart, and I couldn’t even remember why I was trying to push him away in the first place. Because I was afraid of commitment a year after my marriage broke apart? It sounded like the lamest excuse,
looking at Kit and his willingness to not only help me but to also respect the fact that I was taking things slow. Other men would have fled for more fertile lands instead of waiting around for one woman to fall for their charm.

  ‘Sure,’ I told him. ‘I’ve got wine.’

  ‘And I’ve brought popcorn,’ he said, pulling a sachet of microwavable kernels out of his pocket.

  I chuckled.

  ‘I told you I was the master of comfort food.’

  I laughed louder.

  ‘Right, come on in then, master.’

  Sam walked into Bean Therapy the next day wearing a brand new navy-blue satin dress that hugged her hips perfectly and sat just below her knees. She was wearing a pair of stilettos in the same colour and carried a matching business satchel.

  ‘I think I need to reconsider your pay, missy.’ I said as soon as I saw her. ‘When did you go shopping?’

  She sat opposite me and Devi came with provisions.

  ‘Oh my God! Is that an Adelise satchel? Oh my God, I hate you. Can I borrow this?’ she asked, put the coffee pot down and dashed back behind the counter to serve the queue of morning customers.

  ‘It’s Oliver. He sent me all this. I don’t even know how he knows my size.’ She grinned.

  ‘That’s so sweet,’ Devi shouted from behind the counter.

  ‘Where is my coffee, woman?’ Sam yelled at her.

  Devi shot back at her with her piercing eyes, ‘It’s right in front of you, you big baby.’

  Sam narrowed her eyes and stared at Devi. Devi ignored her.

  ‘So, listen,’ Sam said. ‘I was going through both Melissa’s and Sylvester’s statements and I was trying to figure out what our next step should be.’

  ‘I was talking to Kit last night—,’ I started but I heard a cheer coming from both directions. I glared at Devi who went back to serving her customers and then turned to Sam to do the same.

  ‘Did you finally go on a date?’ she said, sitting on the edge of her seat. When I said no, she sat back again, deflated.

  ‘Look, you can criticise me all you want, but you’re no better,’ I told her and opened my ring binder. ‘Anyway, Kit said if there was a political motive behind his murder then perhaps his secretary will know who was on his blacklist.’