Fay shook her head. “He’ll only ask me out again if I am.”
“You could take pity on the poor guy and go on one date with him.”
“Why would I when I know for a fact that I’m not interested in him? It’s not like I owe him anything just because he’s interested in me. Besides, he needs to learn to take no for an answer.”
“He’s a perfectly nice guy.”
“A perfectly nice guy would take no for an answer.”
Morwen’s face was sorrowful, but Fay hardened her heart. She’d had experience of ‘perfectly nice guys’ before and didn’t trust them – not when they made her uncomfortable with their persistence.
“I was meaning to ask you,” she said as Morwen came back from her stint at reception. “If I wanted an excuse to talk to Lady Chadwick, what should I use?”
“That’s easy enough. You can talk to her about the spring fair. It’s our turn to host it this year.”
“The… what was that now?”
“The spring fair.” Morwen laughed at Fay’s alarmed expression. “Surely someone has told you about the spring fair?”
“Not a single word.”
“It’s an island tradition. In ancient times it was held to celebrate the lengthening of the days when the field workers no longer needed to burn torches in the evenings, so they could see what they were doing while they worked. They would put their wooden torches in a pile and burn them in a big bonfire. Then there would be madrigals and traditional dancing. Does none of this ring a bell?”
“Not at all. Where I come from, we celebrate spring by drinking strawberry-flavored iced mochaccinos at Starbucks. What has this got to do with Penrose House?”
“For hundreds of years, so they say, Chadwick Manor would have one spring celebration and Penrose House would have another. That was when the Chadwicks and the Penroses were still feuding with each other. Sometimes the two celebrations would be scheduled for the same day and the village would be split. About a hundred years ago, the ladies of the two houses got together and decided to host it on alternate years. This year it’s your turn.”
Fay’s eyes were round with horror. “How can I host madrigals and traditional dancers? I don’t even know what a madrigal is.”
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s just a bit of singing and Morris dancing. And obviously we’d want to have a maypole. Your grandmother kept a spreadsheet on her computer with everything that needed to be done for the spring fair. When it’s held here, Lady Chadwick always provides the punch – both alcoholic and non-alcoholic varieties. Even though she does it every year, it’s traditional for the lady of Penrose House to call on her and ask if she would be kind enough to provide it. So, there’s your excuse to talk to her.”
Fay put the second kitten back in the box and looked for the next one. Her mind was in such a whirl she almost forgot which kitten she had fed and which she hadn’t. Luckily, the ones that had been fed tended to have visibly round tummies. She picked up the third kitten and began to feed him.
“Is it too late for me to go back to the Bronx and deal with gang violence on a daily basis? That’s starting to sound preferable to organizing the spring fair.”
Morwen suppressed a smile. “Nonsense. You’ll be fine. I’m here to help you. And we’ve got your granny’s spreadsheet to guide us. The spring fair is going to be a big success this year. The pride of Penrose House depends on it.”
“The pride of Penrose House depends on it,” Fay muttered to herself. “So, no pressure then.”
She looked up at Chadwick Manor looming above her. It was even bigger than it had seemed from a distance. She wondered why Penrose House was considered to be a more perfect architectural specimen. It was big, but not as big as this. Then she noticed parts of the house that had clearly been added on during the twentieth century. They spoiled the historic legacy of the old house.
The changes that had been made to convert Penrose House into a B&B had not interfered with the original architecture. Fay’s grandmother had seen to that. Every guest unit might have a rain-jet shower, but the structure of the house remained as original as ever.
Chadwick Manor was situated near Penhale lighthouse on the southern point of the island. It was not within walking distance of Penrose House, so Fay had taken her grandmother’s ancient green Volvo out of the garage and pointed it in the direction of the lighthouse. Pen the groundskeeper volunteered to drive her over, but she assured him she could manage.
He pulled a dubious face, probably remembering how she had struggled with the car when she had first arrived on the island. She had never driven a stick-shift in her life and the Volvo had a temperamental gearbox.
Fay had taken lessons and passed her driver’s license test. She now considered herself perfectly capable of piloting the old girl around the village.
She arrived at Chadwick Manor having only stalled twice.
There was no doorbell or knocker, so Fay rapped her knuckles against the wooden door. When there was no answer, she knocked again. When there was still no answer, she pounded the side of her fist against the door.
It creaked open to reveal a tall, thin woman in her mid-seventies. Her eyes darted from side to side.
“Miss Penrose. Was I expecting you? You’d better come inside. They are everywhere. Everywhere!” She batted at the air as though she were swatting mosquitos. Then she turned and walked into the house without waiting to see if Fay would follow her.
New York City had more than its fair share of odd characters, but as far as Fay was concerned, Bluebell Island took the cake. There were eccentrics everywhere.
“Close the door, close the door,” Lady Chadwick admonished her. “You don’t want them getting in, do you?”
Fay closed the door to shut out… whatever it was that Lady Chadwick wanted her to shut out.
She led Fay through to a large drawing room. Like everything else at Chadwick Manor, it was impressive until you looked closely. Then you noticed the sun-faded upholstery, the worn carpets, and the moth-eaten curtains. Chadwick Manor was crying out for someone to spend a lot of money on it to bring it back to its former glory. Either Lady Chadwick didn’t have that sort of money, or she had chosen not to spend it on the house.
“Hi, Pebbles.” Fay bent to stroke the elderly pug that came frisking up to her. She was notorious for nipping visitors but had always liked Fay.
“I’m sorry for intruding like this, Lady Chadwick. I just wanted to…”
Fay stopped as Lady Chadwick flapped at her to be quiet.
“Never mind that now. You took quite a chance driving here today. Did you notice any of them out there?”
Fay joined her hostess at the window. There was nothing visible apart from the road that led up to the house. Its surrounding hedgerows were hazed with color as the earliest signs of spring made themselves known.
“Um…”
“The power station, Miss Penrose. Did you not notice it?”
“Oh, the power station? Yes, of course.”
An electrical substation had been built on a plot of vacant land a few miles from Chadwick Manor.
“Well…?”
“Do you mean what do I think of it? I’ve heard it has made the power grid for the whole island much more stable.”
Lady Chadwick frowned. “That’s what they say, but no one thinks about those of us who are exposed to the electrical currents that interfere with our bodies’ natural electrons.”
“That sub-station must be two miles away. I’m sure you’re perfectly safe here.”
“I’ve read studies that say electricity can upset your body’s biorhythms.”
“I think the electricity we have in our homes is fine.”
Lady Chadwick blinked at Fay as though bringing her into focus.
“I suppose we’ll never know for sure. What can I do for you, Miss Penrose?”
“I wanted to ask if you would be so kind as to supply the punch for the spring fair this year.”
“It’s a little early for that, isn�
�t it?”
“It’s already March.”
“Is it indeed? Then this is something we should be thinking about. Yes, Miss Penrose, I would be happy to supply the punch for the spring fair. We must discuss this further. May I offer you something to drink in the meanwhile?”
“Just a glass of water, thank you.”
Lady Chadwick disappeared into the kitchen. When she came back, she was carrying a tray with a cup of coffee and a glass of water on it. She took the coffee for herself and handed Fay the water.
“I’m afraid it’s tap water,” she said. “I had no more of the bottled variety left.”
“That’s absolutely fine. I prefer tap water.”
“But have you heard about the fluoridation scheme?”
“You mean… putting fluoride in the water? I don’t think they do that here.”
“They say they don’t, but can we trust them? I read an article on the internet explaining how Big Pharma is putting fluoride in our water to cause osteoporosis so that they can sell more drugs to treat it.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. Fluoride occurs naturally in most drinking water. You can even find it in tea.”
“So you say, dear, but do you really want to take that chance?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bottle of blue fluid. “I bought this online. It will neutralize any added fluoride in the water. Just a couple of drops should be enough to do the trick.”
She unscrewed the cap and leaned towards Fay’s glass of water.
Fay pulled her glass out of the way. The fluid was such a bright blue as to appear almost electric. She would rather take her chances with the tap water.
Chapter 20
Lady Chadwick’s mood darkened the moment Fay refused the fluoride-neutralizing drops. She was clearly disappointed.
“I hear you are running Penrose House as a bed and breakfast establishment these days?”
“That’s right,” said Fay. “We’ve called it the Cat’s Paw and we’re very pleased with how it is doing. We’re hoping for full occupancy as the weather starts to warm up.”
Lady Chadwick shook her head. “Such a shame to use a historic old house for sordid commercial purposes. Your grandmother must be turning in her grave.”
“Actually, it was my grandmother who converted the house into a B&B in the first place. She spent the last year of her life supervising the alterations. It’s a shame she didn’t live to see it become a going concern. She was looking forward to taking on the new challenge.”
Lady Chadwick was still crabby. “It was too much at her age. She must have been terribly worried about money. Why, she was barely a year older than me. And look at her now – dead as a doornail.”
Fay managed to suppress the angry retort that rose to her lips. She needed to get this conversation back on track.
“A place my grandmother always enjoyed when she was alive was Pappa’s Pizzeria. Have you been there lately, Lady Chadwick?”
“I was there the other day. That place has gone downhill over the last few years. I hear they are adding extra gluten to their products. The human body is not designed to digest gluten. Our Paleolithic ancestors never consumed gluten and they were much healthier than we are.”
“Were you at Pappa’s on Tuesday night, Lady Chadwick?”
“Tuesday night? I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure? A couple of people have said that you were.”
Lady Chadwick’s eyes slid away from Fay’s. “Let me see… Tuesday night. Yes, perhaps I was. What of it?”
“Did you happen to notice a takeaway pizza in its box standing on the counter waiting to be collected?”
“The only pizza there was my own, Miss Penrose. That’s the only one I saw, at any rate.”
“You didn’t notice another pizza waiting to be collected by Joe?”
“No, I did not.”
“Did you notice anyone approach the counter?”
“What do you mean?”
“People sometimes go up to the counter to talk to Vito or Luigi or to grab a napkin or whatever. Did you notice anybody going up to the counter on Tuesday night?”
“Definitely not. I would have seen if anyone had. I was keeping an eye on Pebbles who was tied up outside, but I could see Luigi and Vito working behind the counter making the food. Nobody went up to the counter.”
“Can you remember who else was there that night?”
“Now you’re really testing my memory. I can recall saying hello to Pol Peters. What a sweet boy he is. Otherwise, there were a couple of tourists. I didn’t recognize them at all.”
Lady Chadwick extended her hand and held it under Fay’s nose.
“Look,” she said. “Just look at that.”
“Er…”
To Fay, it was a typical arm for a lady in her mid-seventies. There were some liver spots and pigmentation and areas where the skin hung loosely. Her wrist and forearm were bony. Her knuckles were slightly enlarged, possibly due to a touch of arthritis. On her middle finger, she wore a signet ring with the coat of arms of the Chadwick family. It was slightly too big for her finger and she had a habit of adjusting it constantly.
“Sorry, Lady Chadwick, but… what am I looking at?”
“My skin. Feel it! It’s papery.” When Fay hesitated, she barked, “Feel it!”
Fay extended a forefinger and ran it lightly over the top of Lady Chadwick’s hand. It felt perfectly normal.
“Papery?”
“Yes! A known side effect of GMOs in food. Vito and Luigi claim to grow their own herbs organically in their backyard, but I don’t believe it. I think they are using store-bought products that are stuffed full of GMOs. I always feel ill after I’ve eaten there.”
“Have you been to see Doc Dyer?”
“I tried. He wasn’t in. I had to see his son, young Dr. Dyer.”
“Oh, dear.” Fay’s sympathy was genuine.
“He told me it was all in my head.” Lady Chadwick’s voice rose with indignation. “He said I don’t have enough to keep myself occupied so I spend my time googling nonsense on the internet and making up ailments for myself. Can you believe it?”
“He has a most unfortunate manner,” said Fay. The fact that she happened to agree with him was neither here nor there.
“He said…” Lady Chadwick frowned fiercely so that her eyebrows almost met across her nose. She changed her voice to make it deeper. “Stuff and nonsense! It’s all in your head. What you need, Lady Chadwick, is something to keep you busy.”
A spontaneous snort of laughter broke from Fay. Who knew that Lady Chadwick was such a gifted mimic?
“That’s him to the life, Lady Chadwick. That’s exactly how he glares at one over his nose.”
“Yes…” Her tone turned wistful. “But he is terribly good-looking, isn’t he? Just like a young George Clooney.”
Fay drove back to Penrose House lost in thought.
Two down and two to go.
She had interviewed two of the four people who had been in Pappa’s that night. She still needed to speak to Pol Peters and Mr. Olesk who was supposedly staying at the Royal Hotel. She would leave that for after lunch.
The road banked sharply to the right. Fay stopped at the stop sign and looked left and right. This was a typical Bluebell Island intersection. To the left you could see for miles, but to the right the road sloped steeply upwards on a blind rise. It was impossible to see what was coming over that hill. You just had to cross your fingers and hope for the best.
Fay pressed the gas pedal and released the clutch as her car eased into the intersection. It stalled with a dramatic shudder.
She switched the ignition off and on again. The engine turned over but refused to start.
“Oh, come on. Don’t do this to me. Not now.”
As she turned the ignition again, a big black car came sailing over the blind rise. It screeched to a halt about one inch from the driver’s door. When Fay opened her eyes, she saw the furious face of David Dyer glaring
at her through the windshield. He flung himself out of his car and slammed the door.
“What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get us both killed?”
Fay lowered her window, keeping a hold on her temper.
“I stalled in the middle of the intersection. I was just trying to restart my car when you came barreling over the blind rise. You were going much too fast.”
“You’re trying to blame me for this? You must be joking. I’m not the one who was stopped dead in the middle of a public road.”
“It’s this stupid car.” Fay banged the steering wheel with the heel of her hand. “It keeps stalling and doesn’t want to start again.”
“It sounds as though there’s a problem with the timing. You should probably take it to a mechanic.”
Fay gave him a suspicious look, but for once there was nothing confrontational in his tone. He almost sounded as though he were trying to be helpful.
“Okay. Perhaps I’ll do that.”
“Fine. And then you can explain why you spent the morning harassing Dr. Poynter while pretending to be a restaurant reviewer.”
She knew it was too good to last.
“First of all, I didn’t harass her. We simply had a chat over coffee. And second of all, I never pretended to be a restaurant reviewer. She jumped to that conclusion all by herself.”
“The point is that you had no right to question her. She knows nothing about the murder of Martin Caldwell. She has the right to enjoy her short holiday in peace.”
“Oh, is she here on holiday? That wasn’t the impression she gave me. She made it sound as though staying on Bluebell Island were a penance, not a pleasure.”
“What? Nonsense. Dr. Poynter likes it here. She told me so herself.”
Fay opened her mouth to argue but closed it again.
“That is something you should be discussing with her, not with me.”
There was a pause as David helped Fay steer her car to the side of the road. “What did Dr. Poynter say when you asked her about that night in the pizzeria?”
Fay thought about giving him a diplomatic answer but realized that this was something he would never do himself and would be unlikely to appreciate. He was a straightforward man, so she would give him a straightforward answer.
The Cat's Paw Cozy Mysteries Page 12