by Sam Speed
'Don't be daft. Everyone in the scheme will want to come. There's nothing like a nice gruesome death to bring the crowds in. This is your chance to reach people who would not normally come. Make the most of it.'
Dawn looked at me.
'Sometimes I wonder about you.'
I shrugged. Sometimes I wonder about me too.
The hall was locked up and decorated with blue and white 'police crime scene' tape and the audience started to wander off.
Sheila invited anyone who wanted to talk to join her at the manse, where she and her husband would be available for comfort. Looking at her face, I guessed that the last thing she wanted was other people invading her space. But she dutifully encouraged her husband's flock to join them in their home. It must be difficult being a minister's wife. I reckoned Sheila did more work for the church than her husband, but she got no recognition for it and of course, she didn't get paid. Several of the others followed behind Sheila like children on a school trip, chattering excitedly.
Dawn and I declined the offer. We wanted to go somewhere quiet where we could talk about what had happened and what would happen next.
We went back to my flat. Whenever possible I avoided Dawn's dinky cottage because I didn't feel like a run-in with Dawn's bees. I still shudder at the memory of sitting terrified as I felt the bee fur tickling my skin while Dawn 'introduced' them to me.
Besides, there was a smir2[2] of rain and my tiny moggy, Snowball would be feeling distinctly neglected by now. OK, the adorable little white ball of fluff would probably have taken herself into one of the neighbours' houses. There she would scrounge treats and complain about her neglect.
But no, she was there, waiting outside the door, curled up into a tight ball looking for all the world like a bedraggled version of her namesake.
'What's up fluff? Did Auntie Betty chuck you out? Or has she run out of treats for you?'
Snowball treated my elderly neighbour Betty as a substitute mother for when I was at work.
She stood up slowly and stretched with her back arched. The she informed me in no uncertain terms how her evening had been and what a bad mother I was.
I always felt the warm glow of ownership coming home to my flat. It was ex-council stock like most of the houses and flats in Nu Faran. I grew up here, but when I came back after working in Africa it hadn't been easy to find a place I could afford. Local housing had been snapped up by a mix of Glasgow commuters and staff at the local hospital.
Still, I couldn't complain about the carbuncle of a hospital. Its constant infestation of any spare inch of land and its thirst for staff enabled me to pay for my flat.
My parents died in a house fire, shortly before I came back from Africa. By the time their debts were paid off, there was just enough of the insurance left to put down a deposit on my flat. My wages from the hospital paid the mortgage.
It was a downstairs flat in the traditional Kilmarrick style of four in a block with each flat having its own outside door. Betty and I had doors at the front. Our upstairs neighbours had stairs inside which led down to their outside door at the side of the house.
Having a door direct to the outside made it easier to let Snowball in and out, frequently.
I was lucky that my neighbours were all elderly, especially Betty. The other two flats were still council properties, but the tenants were quiet.
The only problem with where I lived was parking. As with all the Kilmarrick housing schemes, Nu Faran was built in the days when very few families had one car, never mind one per person and an extra one for luck. Not to mention the ubiquitous work vans. On days, when I was tired from work, it frustrated me to have to sometimes park a couple of streets away, but I could live with it.
Poor Betty struggled to walk she was in so much pain. When she couldn't park close to her house it made life very difficult for her.
You'd think her neighbours would be considerate. But no. Betty had only lived in Kilmarrick for twenty years. She was still by Ayrshire standards a newcomer. The parochial residents of the local community resented her taking up housing their Auntie Jeannie could have had. Of course Auntie Jeannie could never have bought the house because she spent her benefit money on fags and booze.
Then there was Gavin Cameron, the twenty-two-year-old man who lived across the road. He was the type who lived at home with mum so he could spend all his money on himself. He frequented the gym, played golf and rugby. Yet he was seemingly incapable of walking a short distance to his car. It wouldn't be the first time I'd seen him racing up the street to grab the last available space before Betty or one of my other elderly neighbours got into it.
I worried about Snowball with the speed he drove at, easily forty miles an hour in our twenty limit.
Betty said he would get his comeuppance one day, but I doubted that. His type causes car accidents but come out of it without a scratch. It's the people they crash into that suffer. No-one ever said life was fair.
Dawn looked shattered when we got into the house and collapsed on the sofa. She was joined by Snowball, who had no intention of accepting murder as an excuse for us not giving her the attention she wanted.
I made myself a nice strong cup of coffee and topped it up with a good splash of brandy, for purely medicinal reasons of course. I didn't even ask Dawn if she would like one, knowing she would never risk the temple of her body. So I dug through my kitchen cupboards for the herbal tea Dawn liked.
'Do you really think people will come next week after Yvette's death?'
I flopped into my big comfy armchair and sipped my coffee. Snowball abandoned Dawn in favour of her main meal provider.
'Oh yes, they will for the first week or two anyway. There's nothing else on in the hall before then, so it will be their first chance to view the 'crime scene'. You'll probably get ghouls coming along from all over Kilmarrick.'
Dawn looked stricken.
'What if the police haven't finished with the hall and won't let us use it?'
'It should be all right. I asked Wendy, DC White and she said forensics should be finished in a couple of days.'
'Wendy? You had time to get friendly with the police.'
'She's a nice girl. And you seemed to be getting on very well with the Inspector.'
Dawn coughed and changed the subject.
'Jean popped into the hall tonight before the class. She couldn't stay because she was working, but suggested we combine her foraging class with my exercise class. That way she can help out with the exercises. She doesn't need regular meetings for the foraging. Most of her classes are practical ones done in the countryside.'
'That's a good idea,' I said. 'We can say that Jean could have prevented Yvette's death, so we have brought her in to avoid any more problems.'
I had my own reasons to think it was a good idea, but I wasn't about to admit that.
Snowball decided she had been ignored long enough and demanded with a soft but insistent chirrup that I feed her.
After I saw to the boss, Dawn and I talked into the night, going round and round about what happened. Why had it happened? Was it an accident? It must have been, yet if it was, why didn't whoever had supplied the berries own up? Were they too frightened after Yvette's death?
We spoke about planning next week's classes, but by that time the brandy was catching up on me and the chamomile tea was catching up on Dawn so we went to bed. Dawn slept in Snowball's room and the fluffy one generously agreed to share her bed. Since she preferred to join me in my bed it was no great hardship for her.
Next day we were summoned down to the police station to speak to Detectives Black and White.
Dawn popped home to change.
By the time I picked her up, she had changed into a neat little hourglass dress. This showed off her waist and, with the help of her balcony bra, lifted her boobs nicely.
I wore my usual shapeless T-shirt and denims. I dressed for comfort and despite Dawn's suggesting otherwise, I had absolutely no interest in DI Black. There had onl
y ever been one love of my life and I was not about to discuss that with anyone.
The cause of death had been confirmed as poisoning and DI Black was inclined to write the whole thing off as an unfortunate accident. In fact, he suggested it might have been our fault for encouraging people to forage without proper supervision.
'I didn't encourage them,' Dawn said, gazing into his eyes. 'I just mentioned it, but we were going to have an outing in the future, which would have shown the ladies where and how to forage.'
'If it was just an accident, why didn't the person responsible come forward?' I asked.
'They may have been worried they would be blamed for the death,' he said, reluctantly turning his attention from Dawn.
'That doesn't make sense,' I said, ignoring his frown. 'They didn't admit it before Yvette died either. Why go to the expense of buying the dishes not to mention the bother of picking all those berries and not look for credit?'
He glared at me while appearing to consider my point. As I had hoped, he didn't realise that the cheap plastic dishes were probably out of one of the ubiquitous pound shops.
'We will be looking into that and investigating anyone with a motive for murder. But it seems unlikely as no-one could have known that Yvette would be the first to eat the berries.
Dawn glared at me as I snorted, trying not to laugh.
'I can assure you that anyone who knew Yvette would have known that she would sneak some berries before the class started.'
'And how could they be sure she was the only one?'
'That's easy. Everyone else is polite enough to wait until they are offered. Yvette was the only one there with no manners and who would be greedy enough to help herself.'
'That does make murder slightly less improbable,' he said not sounding convinced. 'Possibly being pregnant gave her a bigger appetite.'
He must have realised from our gasps, we had not known she was expecting. Who would have thought anyone would sleep with Yvette?
'We'll continue to investigate and next week I would like to attend your class to see how things work.'
Dawn blushed and I noticed a slight smile on her lips. I could imagine her prancing about in her skimpy exercise clothes to impress the yummy detective. Meantime I was thinking about how to use the police visit to encourage more ghouls along.
As we left the police station we bumped into Mary wheeling her granddaughter again. At least she was getting some exercise. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming. I must explain to Mary's daughter that no-one uses meths to clean the cord any more.
'Isn't it just dreadful what happened,' Mary said breathlessly. 'Are the police giving you trouble?' She looked hopeful.
'Not at all.' I said. 'We were giving them the rundown on the suspects.'
Mary turned white around her mouth, though the top of her face still showed the red of her elevated blood pressure. She looked like she was going to cry and then the words tumbled out of her.
'It wasn't my fault,' she said. 'It wasn't my fault. Not really. Yvette over-reacted. And it wasn't like I would have killed her over a thing like that.'
Dawn and I looked at each other. We didn't have a clue what she was talking about, but it looked like we had found our first suspect. The problem was how to find out more without letting on we didn't know what she was talking about.'
That's not what I heard,' I said.
Mary flushed even redder.
'It's that bitch Angela sticking her nose in, isn't it? She of all people should know how difficult Yvette could be. It wasn't my fault. I didn't know her cat was sitting behind my car wheel or I would never have started moving.'
Dawn nudged me from behind. She knew me well enough to know what I was feeling.
I remembered hearing a couple of years before about Yvette's cat being killed by a neighbour reversing her car. I could have understood Yvette killing Mary over it. I'd seen her erratic driving and was only surprised she hadn't had a serious accident by now. If she'd run over my Snowball, I'd be in prison by now for her murder. But losing my temper would not get us more information.
'Yvette didn't accept it was an accident?' I guessed.
'No, she's been hounding me ever since. She kept threatening to report me to the police. Then I got a letter from her solicitor. She was suing me for mental anguish and the loss of her companion.'
I could see that had upset Mary but would she commit murder over it?
Foraging Fun
'I can't see her killing Yvette because of a lawyer's letter,' I said.
Dawn and I were back at my flat. The ever-hungry Snowball greeted us effusively.
'I'm trying hard not to hope Yvette was murdered,' said Dawn.
It was nice to see my angelic Dawn struggling with normal human avarice. Her 'perfect' Donald walking out on her had changed her.
'It will be better for the class if it was murder,' I confirmed. 'You'll have the usual ghouls that hang about any murder scene. And the women who are genuinely interested in your class won't be put off by the thought of poisonous berries. Jean coming along should help with that as well.'
'You were so calm when I was sitting around being all girlie after Yvette died. I don't know how you manage.'
'You have to remember, that although I don't go about killing off my patients every day, I do have a lot more experience of death than you do. Besides, let's face it with her weight, Yvette was never going to achieve the oldest woman in the world.'
Dawn looked at me as if I had grown horns which was strange. We'd been friends since we were at school and she should know by now what a heartless bitch I am.
It turned out it's true that there's no such thing as bad publicity. For the next week, Dawn and I kept busy accepting applications for her class and organising them into groups. Dawn was going to run three large classes. After a crash course from Dawn, Jean and I would do classes in the smaller hall. Lucky for her we both already had the required public liability insurance and first aid certificates through our work.
The next Thursday the three of us were at the hall getting organised and making sure there were no unexpected gifts of food when Dawn's phone rang. I could tell from the blush on her face and the sudden breathlessness that it was the delectable DI Black.
'Yes, yes, of course, that's not a problem. Right, the first class starts at six-thirty. Then there are another two later classes. Come when you want. Right, right, that's fine. We'll see you then.'
I grabbed a piece of card and started fanning Dawn with it while Jean stood grinning.
'Calm down Rosy Dawn,' I said. 'You're living up to your nickname.'
Oh, you're being silly,' said Dawn. 'I'm not interested in DI Black at all. I'm just encouraging him because he's ideal for you. You would make a lovely couple.'
I choked.
'I can assure you DI Black is not my type at all. Feel free to go for him.'
'Seriously, Lisa? He's about our age, a hunk and he's a detective inspector so he's intelligent and good at his job and what's more, he'll be well paid. I despair of any man ever being good enough for you.'
'You might well be right.'
Jean raised her eyebrow, shrugged her shoulders and turned away with a half-smile.
Detectives Black and White arrived shortly before the first class. Dawn stuttered her way through a guided tour of the empty room and the rest of the building. Jean and I stood looking on with Wendy White, exchanging amused looks.
While Jean and Wendy were watching Dawn and the detective, I was watching them. They stood slightly apart from each other. Of course, I supposed as police and paramedic they were bound to have come across each other before. Jean had told me how sometimes at a serious crime scene the police might confiscate a paramedic's uniform and equipment. That would cause quite a bit of friction.
Sheila was one of the first to arrive again, followed by her entourage of churchy ladies. Soon after the hall was invaded by droves of people. There were people genuinely interested in the class, but most wanted the
vicarious thrill of visiting the scene of a suspicious death.
DI Black stayed in the main hall with Dawn's group and the three of us used the smaller hall for our class.
Wendy helped with the class and as the hour wore on I was pretty sure that the tension between her and Jean was not from work. But it appeared whatever their relationship might have been, it was now over.
After the first classes, we met up with Dawn and DI Black, who exchanged shy glances and warm smiles. As they stood to examine the class lists together, he put his hand on her shoulder. From her smile and glance at him from under her eyelashes, I don't think she minded. I got the impression that DI Black still thought Yvette's death had been an accident but wasn't willing to say so. Once he did he would have no excuse to visit Dawn.
Jean, Wendy and I turned away to hide our wide smiles and pretended to discuss our class.
'That was good fun,' said Wendy. 'I will start coming along when I can for the exercise.'
One side of Jean's mouth curved up and her eyebrow rose again. It seemed to have a life of its own.
'It depends on my shifts,' said Wendy. 'I can't always commit,' she said pointedly towards Jean. All of a sudden, I began to feel like three or even five's a crowd.
The detectives left before the next class. The first in for the second class were Anne and Christine. It made sense. As postmistress, Anne would want to make sure she heard any gossip. Dawn put them in my class and I could see them reluctantly eyeing the crowd in the main room. I showed them which room we were in. Before the class started, they took the opportunity to circulate around the main hall speaking to everyone. It looked like they were taking over from Yvette.
By the end of the evening, I was hot and sweaty having spent much of the three hours showing people how to do the exercises. Jean seemed almost cool. It was obvious from her neat little lady biceps, on show now that she had stripped down to vest and shorts, that Jean exercised regularly.
I was impressed by how helpful Christine was with the other ladies, especially those who struggled to manage the 'tasks' we were giving them. She giggled most of the way through and at the end stopped to thank us for our efforts. It was nice to get some praise for a change instead of complaints about how limited the diet was and how crowded the hall was. It made her attitude to Yvette the week before all the stranger. I would have to find out what that was about.