“My turn,” Eleanor said gleefully. Ron peeled himself off the wall and moved back into position. This time, he put his back foot out to brace himself. Eleanor landed a kick that looked just as hard as Eleanor’s. Ron staggered backward again, although only a couple steps this time.
Dennis still looked shocked but didn’t comment. Everyone else had a turn and no one else was able to make Ron budge so much as an inch.
“And now I’m going to show you the chokehold we demonstrated earlier. I’ll ask for a volunteer,” he said. Karen Francis stepped forward. He placed his hands around her throat. “Do you remember your lesson from last week?”
“I hope so,” she said, to general light laughter from the others.
Karen brought up her arms between his arms and quickly flung them out and downward, breaking his grip.
“Excellent,” he said. “You could also punch someone directly to the throat just here.” He tapped his throat. “And if you punch someone hard enough between the nose and the upper lip, it will make their eyes water so much that you should have time to get away. Now, I’m going to demonstrate the chokehold I showed you earlier. Can I have a different volunteer?”
Matilda put up a hand. “I’ll volunteer,” she said.
Dennis looked surprised but didn’t object. Matilda walked over to him. He turned her around and put his arm around her neck. “If someone did this to you, what would your first instinct be?”
It all happened so fast I hardly had time to see it. There was a quick blur of the burly instructor flying through the air and then Matilda swiveling on one foot, putting him in an arm lock on the ground. He tapped the ground a few times in succession and Matilda released him.
Dennis jumped to his feet, his face beet red. “Where did you learn that?”
“In Japan,” she said. “From the Tokyo police.”
“The Tokyo police?” he parroted.
“Yes. They were all trained in Yoshinkan Aikido.”
The instructor was struck speechless. All the color drained from his face.
“And then, of course, my sister Eleanor and I spent some years learning Daito Ryu, but when we left Japan and went to Malaysia, we learned Silat,” she said with a big smile.
“I don’t think you ladies need this class,” Dennis said. Ron nodded vigorously in agreement.
“We’re just here with our friend, Jane,” Matilda said.
The instructor appeared shaken. Matilda remained on her best behavior for the rest of the class, although both instructors did their best to avoid her.
Once the class was over, we all made a beeline for Karen Francis. “You look familiar. I know you from somewhere,” Matilda said.
“Yes, so do you. Weren’t you at Judy Jenkins’s book launch?”
“Yes, that’s where it was!” I said. “Such a sad thing to happen.”
“Yes,” Karen said in a clipped tone.
She made to turn away so I quickly added, “Judy Jenkins accused my sister of stealing her cupcake ideas.”
That got Karen’s interest. “Really? She did that to quite a few people, I’m afraid.”
Matilda agreed. “Apparently the police have a long list of suspects because Judy wrongfully accused quite a lot of people.”
“I saw your cupcake cookbook,” I told Karen. “Surely Judy was angry that you wrote a cookbook?” When her cheeks flushed beet red, I hastened to add, “Judy accused my sister of stealing her idea for turning Amish sour cream spice cakes into cupcakes, but my sister has been selling those cupcakes for many years now.”
Karen’s shoulders relaxed. “Yes, Judy could be most unreasonable. I was going to give my notice.”
“She wasn’t already angry with you for producing that book?” I asked her.
Karen let out a small sigh. “She actually didn’t know about it, but I knew she would soon find out. I was going to give my notice as soon as the book launch was over. I’m afraid Judy was the one who stole my ideas. I was the one who suggested she could make traditional Amish cakes and desserts into cupcakes. I told her I was going to write a cupcake book. The next thing I knew, she told me she was doing one as if it was entirely her idea. She wasn’t in the slightest embarrassed. I didn’t know whether she had a huge ego or whether she was some sort of con artist.”
She hesitated and added, “Maybe both. Anyway, she stole all my ideas.”
“How can you be sure she didn’t know about your book?” I asked her. “Surely she would see the rankings on the online stores.”
“No, my book was only in paperback, whereas hers was in ebook form,” Karen said. “Our books weren’t in the same categories for the rankings. Besides, she didn’t know enough about the industry to know where to look.”
“But she was selling courses,” I said.
“Exactly. She was tricking people into parting with their money. She told everyone there are not enough cake books on the market and so it’s lucrative.”
“But why would she want to create competition for her own product?” I asked her.
It was Matilda who answered. “Because Judy clearly didn’t make money from her book, not selling it at seventy cents,” Matilda pointed out. “She was doing this to set herself up as a guru so people would pay seven hundred and fifty dollars for her courses.”
Karen readily agreed. “On the day of the launch, she told me she already had fifty five people signed up for her course.”
I did the mental math. “That’s a lot of money!”
“Yes, especially since the courses are completely worthless,” Karen pointed out.
I added, “I’m most concerned because the police suspect my sister.”
Matilda butted in. “And that’s particularly strange since Jane’s sister is Amish.”
Deep furrows formed in Karen’s forehead. “Your sister is Amish?”
I nodded. “She’s been making cupcakes based on Amish desserts and cakes for many years, but Judy said they were her own ideas and that Rebecca had stolen them, even though they predated Judy’s ideas by many years. At any rate, Judy made several visits over the last three weeks to my sister and that’s why the police suspect her.” I wiped my clammy palms on my sweat pants.
“I’m not sure I see the connection?” Karen said, still frowning.
Matilda stepped forward. “It’s like this. Apparently Judy was showing symptoms of poisoning and all that started just over three weeks ago. As Judy had been visiting Rebecca’s shop and accusing her on and off during the past three weeks, the police see that as a connection.”
“Surely the police have other suspects,” Karen said.
“Any idea who those suspects could be?” Matilda asked her.
Karen looked as though she wasn’t going to say anything, but then she said, “Well, there’s Selena Starr, of course. She really saw Selena as a rival. And then there’s Brian Birch.”
“Did Brian have a grudge against Judy?” I asked.
“Sure, he did. He used to have a top position as a technical program manager, earning a six-figure salary. Judy worked for him but told dreadful lies about him to get his job.”
I gasped. “She actually had him sacked?”
“Yes. She said he stole her work and presented it as his own, but it was the other way around.”
“How did she get anyone to believe her?”
“She accused him of drinking on the job and she hid bottles of vodka in his office. When she got word that the big boss was going to see Brian, she slipped something into Brian’s coffee. The boss thought Brian was actually drunk. That was the end of him, so to speak. He wasn’t able to get a job anywhere else, so now he has to work for himself.”
“He’s successful though, right?” Matilda asked.
Karen shrugged one shoulder. “Sure, but he wouldn’t be making a fraction of what he made then.”
I was puzzled and said so. “But didn’t they have an argument when they met again recently?”
Karen shook her head. “Brian was about one hun
dred pounds heavier back then, and he had a big beard. He’s unrecognizable now to what he was and, what’s more, he legally changed his name after Judy had him discredited.”
“But he would have recognized Judy,” I pointed out.
Karen continued to shake her head. “It was all done online at first. Judy Jenkins is her married name. She was Judy Putnam before she married. Brian obviously didn’t make the connection and he certainly didn’t tell her who he was after he saw her.”
“How do you know all this?” Matilda asked her.
“Brian and I got drunk one night, right before the launch. I was complaining about Judy, and Brian told me everything.”
“I think Judy’s husband did it,” Karen said.
“Because he’s the heir?” I asked her.
She laughed. “There’s nothing to inherit, trust me. She would have dug deep into any money they had. No, she gave him a hard time. Of course, that doesn’t mean he did away with her, but he’s the most likely.”
I looked at Karen. She didn’t appear to have a grudge against Judy. Sure, she didn’t like the woman, but there was nothing I could see that would lead to her wanting Judy dead.
Or was I missing something?
Chapter 12
It had been a hard day at the cupcake shop, not because of customers or baking, but because I was stiff and sore after the self defense training of the previous night. I was also more than a little concerned about Brian Birch. Why hadn’t he told us about his past with Judy Jenkins? Still, I supposed it was something he wouldn’t volunteer to everyone, at least not while sober. It did give him a motive for murder, though.
I wanted nothing more than to languish in a hot bath after work that afternoon, but Matilda had made an appointment to speak with James Jenkins. I had been relieved to hear that it was at his house and not some wild scheme like joining him for skydiving lessons, parkour, or abseiling.
The police suspected Rebecca. While I had every confidence in Damon, I had to admit that Matilda was an amazing investigator. I wondered if she had been a police officer or some sort of an investigator at some time in her life, but she was always tight lipped when I asked her about her past.
“I hope Mr. Jenkins doesn’t throw us out,” I said, a little worried.
“No, I’m quite charming,” Matilda said. Eleanor made a strangled sound.
The house was on a quiet cul-de-sac in a nice neighbourhood. It was painted a pale shade of coffee cream with white shutters on all the windows. The porch railings were painted bright white, and the lawn was cut nicely.
As we walked toward the door, I thought everything looked spick-and-span.
James opened the door. “Hello. Mrs. Birtwistle, isn’t it?”
“Miss,” she said. “Please call me Matilda. This is my sister, Eleanor, and our friend and roommate, Jane Delight.”
He looked us over with an appraising eye before addressing me. “Yes, your twin sister is the Amish cupcake lady, right? The main suspect?”
I made to protest, but saw Matilda’s warning look just in time. I simply said, “Yes.”
I wondered why only his head was stuck out the door until he said, “Don’t worry about the dogs. They won’t hurt you. Be careful they don’t get out when you come in.”
When I walked inside, I was at once assaulted by the dreadful, overpowering smell of unclean dogs and cats. I looked down at the green carpet and was shocked to see it was covered with stains.
“I have a cleaning crew here, but they’ve started upstairs,” James said, his voice filled with embarrassment. “You’ll have to excuse the place. If Matilda hadn’t said it was urgent, I wouldn’t have met with you now. Judy liked a lot of animals, you see.”
I looked at the assortment of dogs. Just when I thought I had them counted, they moved position and I had to start counting all over again. “How many dogs do you have?” I asked him.
“Too many,” he said. “I’ll attempt to put them outside.”
He walked outside and I could see him clearly through the large glass windows. The dogs followed him outside, but then they scratched on the glass wanting to come back in. “Judy always had them inside as you can probably tell,” he said when he returned. “I’m going to find good homes for them all, all except my original dog, Shadow.” He bent down to pat a lovely dog of indeterminable heritage.
“Your wife must have been very kind to rescue all these animals,” I said.
He snorted rudely. “I might as well tell you that my wife and I weren’t on the best of terms. She bought all these dogs from a shelter, just so she could put their photos on Facebook and gain sympathy. She found that playing the sympathy card always worked for her.”
“She was buying rescued dogs just to put their photos on Facebook?” I asked, somewhat confused.
He shook his head. “Not as such. It was specifically to gain sympathy. Judy used to tell the most outrageous stories on Facebook to gain sympathy. I was horrified by some of the things she said. Of course, my objections always fell on deaf ears. She said she was the marketing expert and I was to do what she said. It’s going to take a lot of time to clean up this mess.”
He waved his arm around the house. I didn’t know whether he was speaking literally or metaphorically—maybe both.
The house looked quite good under all the terrible mess. There was a lovely fireplace surrounded by brick, and the walls in the living room were pale blue.
“Do you think you’ll be able to get those stains out of the carpet?” Eleanor asked him.
“Eleanor!” Matilda censured her.
“No, it’s all right,” James said sadly. He had the appearance of the downtrodden man. “The maids think they can get it out, but if they can’t, I’ll have to have it ripped up and replaced with something. I just have to get things back under control.”
“Well, as I said on the phone,” Matilda said, “we’re here because the police suspect Jane’s sister. Of course, it’s preposterous they would suspect an Amish lady of such a heinous crime. Since they aren’t getting anywhere with their investigations, Rebecca is still a suspect. We were hoping you could offer some information as to who you think the murderer is.”
He thought for a moment and then said, “May I offer you a drink?”
“No thanks,” we all said in unison. I felt I needed a HAZMAT suit simply to be in the house. Every time anybody moved, clouds of dog hair burst into the air.
“Seriously, Judy wasn’t a popular person, I’m afraid to say,” James said sadly. “She had terrible arguments with Selena Starr, and even Karen Francis was going to give her notice. Karen is her manager.”
We all nodded. I wondered how he knew Karen was about to give notice. I filed that away and said, “I’m sorry to bring up a painful subject, but have the police told you which poison it was yet?”
He nodded. “It was thallium.”
“Yes, we found that out too. Your wife was being administered thallium somehow, over the course of a few weeks,” I said.
James sat down hard on a chair, sending dog hair all through the air. “Yes, she had all the symptoms, although we didn’t know that at the time. You know, headaches, heart rhythm disturbances, high blood pressure, and dry skin. I’ve since spoken with her doctor, and he said thallium can be absorbed, ingested, or inhaled.”
“That’s terrible,” I said.
James put his head between his hands. “Her doctor feels bad that he didn’t have her tested for thallium, but she did have various tests and her mercury, arsenic, and lead levels were all normal. He said he would never have suspected thallium because it hasn’t been produced in this country since 1984.”
“Is it still used in this country for anything?” Matilda asked him.
He shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“How long had the hair loss been happening?” Matilda asked him.
He looked shocked. “You know about that?”
When Matilda simply nodded and didn’t speak, he added, “It got very bad
only a week ago.”
“That’s why the police suspect Jane’s sister,” Matilda said. “Large doses of thallium take about three weeks to become fatal, and your wife had been dropping by Rebecca’s shop for the past three weeks. So you can see, the timing is against Rebecca.”
“But where would the police think an Amish lady had procured thallium?” he asked.
I shrugged, but Eleanor said, “No idea. Oh, what a cute cat. I have a cat.” I followed her gaze to see a cat sitting next to a dead potted plant on the mantelpiece. The cat looked quite put out. no doubt at the sight of the dogs scratching on the windows, trying to get back in.
“Won’t those dogs scratch the glass?” I said.
Matilda was the one who answered. “No, because dogs’ claws have a hardness of between two and three on the Mohs Hardness Scale and glass has a Mohs Hardness of at least five. Therefore, claws aren’t hard enough to scratch glass. Diamonds, as they have a Mohs Hardness of ten, scratch glass, but dogs claws can’t.”
Once more, I wondered how she possessed such good general knowledge.
“I don’t know what I can do to help,” James said. “I don’t even know how I’m going to get through her funeral tomorrow.”
Matilda, Eleanor, and I exchanged glances and I knew that the three of us would be attending the funeral whether I liked it or not.
“Do you have any clue as to the identity of the murderer?” Eleanor asked him. When Matilda gasped, Eleanor said to her, “What’s wrong with that? That’s what we wanted to know.”
James did not appear to mind the forthright question. “Several people really didn’t like her. I have no idea.”
“If you had to pick someone, who would you say it was?” Matilda prompted.
“Selena Starr, I suppose,” he said doubtfully. “The only thing is, the police searched her place for thallium. They took away a lot of things, but they didn’t say if they found thallium in them.” He broke off with a wry laugh. “I suppose if they did, then they would have arrested her and I know they didn’t. It’s been keeping me awake at night.”
Confection is Good for the Soul: An Amish Cupcake Cozy Mystery Page 8