“Who else from your town came to Bluebell Island?”
“There were three of us. I did not know the other two gentlemen. They also were staying at the hotel but checked out after one night saying they would instead reside at a private home. I haven’t seen them since they left. I presume they will appear at the ferry on Saturday morning because we are due to fly home on Saturday night.”
“What line of work are these men in?”
“They are financial advisors. They connect clients with investment opportunities.”
“Do you have any idea where they might be staying?”
“I’m not sure. It wasn’t clear whether they would be staying with someone they had met on the island or renting a property together for the rest of their stay. I know they complained about how impossible it was to get any privacy in this hotel. I was a little annoyed to be honest because they went away in the car we had rented together.”
“What kind of car was that, Mr. Olesk?”
“It was a dark red Ford Cortina. Not a new vehicle, you understand. Quite the opposite in fact. We rented it on the mainland and brought it over on the ferry.”
“I don’t suppose you happen to have a photograph of either of your countrymen?”
Mr. Olesk patted his jacket pockets. He pulled out his phone.
“Before we left Tallinn we took a… how do you say it?… a selfie. I put it on Facebook.”
He dabbed at his screen until he had found the photograph he was looking for. Then he held it up for Fay.
The photograph had clearly been taken at an airport. It showed Mr. Olesk standing next to two men who appeared to be in their fifties. They had their arms around each other while Mr. Olesk stood slightly apart from them. The two men were tagged in the photograph.
Fay took out her own phone and snapped a quick photo of his screen. Then she checked that it was in focus.
Yes, both men’s faces were clearly visible and so were their names. Fay was sure she was looking at the people who had killed Martin Caldwell. The only problem was that neither one of them had been in Pappa’s Pizzeria when the pizza had been spiked with cyanide. There were only five people who could possibly have done that – Vito, Pol Peters, Lady Chadwick, Mr. Olesk, or Laetitia Poynter. Fay thought she knew what had happened but needed to be sure before she made any accusations. More than one of her witnesses had lied to her. It was time for them to start telling the truth.
“Thank you, Mr. Olesk. You’ve been very helpful. I’m sure these questions seem strange to you, but we had an unusual incident on Tuesday night and it helps to know who was doing what.”
He sighed. “You think my countrymen might be involved in something disreputable. I am afraid… I am afraid it is entirely possible.”
Fay stopped off at Pappa’s on her way back from the Royal. She had been hoping to put her head around the door and ask a quick question, but the pizzeria was in chaos.
The doorway was blocked by Constable Chegwin’s considerable girth. By standing on tiptoe, Fay could see that Sergeant Jones and Vito were standing face to face in the middle of the restaurant yelling at each other. Fortunately, it was four o’clock in the afternoon, so there weren’t many customers. Fay could see only one occupied table consisting of a tourist couple who were enjoying tiny cups of espresso with slices of traditional Italian panforte cake. They watched the proceedings with wide eyes, even as they continued to fork pieces of the delicious dark cake into their mouths.
Fay tapped Constable Chegwin on the shoulder and slipped past him as he stepped aside.
“You think I break these regulations?” shouted Vito. “You think I keep these banned things here in my ristorante?”
“I think it’s the only explanation, Vito.” Sergeant Jones yelled back.
“You want to see the health inspector’s report? I show it to you right now. He was here not three months ago.”
“No. I want to search the premises. Specifically, your storerooms and food preparation areas.”
Vito jutted out his jaw and shoved his face within two inches of Sergeant Jones’s. “You want to search my premises, then you give me a… what do you call it?… a search warrant.”
“Ha!” Sergeant Jones’s laugh sounded anything but amused. “The joke’s on you, Vito, because I happen to have an investigation warrant right here. It allows me to search the premises to look for illegal pesticides.”
“Ah, sì? Then you will have to go through me first.” Vito folded his arms and planted his feet. Hovering to one side was Luigi, wringing his hands in despair. The two men seemed to be on the brink of coming to blows. The irony was that they were normally good friends. They played poker together every Wednesday night while Luigi watched the pizzeria. If they started knocking each other’s teeth out, a thirty-year friendship could be ruined, not to mention their reputations.
Sergeant Jones and Vito were both well over six-foot with broad, powerful shoulders and bull-like necks. It wasn’t going to be easy to separate them. Luigi didn’t seem to fancy the idea, and nor did Constable Chegwin. It was up to Fay.
She shrugged. This wasn’t the first time she had broken up a fight and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
She stepped between the two men.
There were identical squeaks of pain and the warring parties fell back, clutching different parts of their anatomy.
“Oww!” Sergeant Jones cradled the middle finger of his right hand. “Was that necessary?”
Vito rubbed his ear tenderly. “My earlobe! It has become detached from my head.”
“No, it hasn’t,” said Fay. “You can listen to me out of your other ear. If you two would stop behaving like overgrown children for a moment we could get this sorted out. Agreed?”
Luigi gave Vito a hard nudge.
“Sì, bene. Agreed.”
“What about you, Sarge?” asked Constable Chegwin.
“Oh, all right. Yes, agreed.”
“Good. Now, the Sergeant here has a duly authorized and issued search warrant to investigate the premises for illegal pesticides.” She lifted a hand when Vito started to protest. “You and Luigi know he’s not going to find anything, so why not just let him get on with it?”
“You don’t know what it’s like!” Vito was still fuming. “You don’t know what it’s like having this man come into your establishment and accuse you of using deadly chemicals that have been illegal for forty years.”
“Oh, don’t I?” said Fay. “Just the other day, I had Dr. Dyer at the Cat’s Paw accusing me of the same thing. He tried to convince me it was the hydrogen cyanide carbons in my pesticides that killed Martin Caldwell.”
“Old Doc Dyer?” said Luigi. “I can hardly believe it. He would never…”
“Not him. I’m talking about that interfering son of his.”
“Oh, young Dr. Dyer,” said Vito. “Yes, that makes sense. If he thinks it could be a risk, I suppose I had better let Sergeant Jones conduct his search.”
“It’s the right thing to do.” Fay patted Vito’s arm. Then she rounded on the policemen. “And as for you two – you know perfectly well that everything at Pappa’s Pizzeria conforms to the highest and most modern health and safety standards. Goodness knows you eat here often enough yourselves. I know you’re just doing your jobs, but Vito and Luigi are your friends. You could have handled this more diplomatically.”
“We’re sorry, Vito,” said Sergeant Jones. “Sorry, Luigi.”
Constable Chegwin added his own apologies.
Fay nodded to the policemen to begin their search. Vito went to open the storeroom for them, apparently trusting himself not to come to blows with Sergeant Jones the moment they were alone together.
“Well done, Fay, cara,” said Luigi. “My main worry was that we wouldn’t have enough ice for our guests this evening because I would have to use it all on Vito’s black eye.”
Fay glanced out the back door to where the police officers and Vito disappeared into the storeroom.
“
Let’s hope they don’t find anything,” said Luigi.
Chapter 23
Fay frowned. “You sound unsure.”
Luigi shook his head. “They will not find anything – that is certain.”
“Then why the worried face?”
“Many of our foods are imported. What if one of our bags or jars was stored in a warehouse overseas that used these… these illegal pesticides? What if that man died because he ate a pizza that was prepared here in this ristorante?”
“Luigi,” said Fay. “Listen to me. This was not a case of accidental poisoning. Somebody anonymously ordered that pizza for Martin Caldwell. That person knew him well enough to be sure that he would never turn down anything for free. The pizza stood open on the counter for several minutes before Joe picked it up. Vito was in your house, off duty. You were standing here, preparing food. There were four people in the restaurant – Lady Chadwick, Mr. Olesk, Pol Peters and Laetitia Poynter. One of them must have been responsible.”
“Poynter? Ah, you are talking about the bella donna. The one who is visiting young Dr. Dyer?”
“That’s right. She’s actually the reason I came here this afternoon. Someone told me she seemed dissatisfied with her food. She kept sending it back and ordering something else?"
“Sì, è vero.” Luigi clicked his tongue. “First, she made me go through the whole menu with her, describing each item in detail - even the desserts, when she hadn’t so much as ordered a starter yet. Then she told me to leave her alone while she thought. She was not a polite lady, but I thought she was going to order a feast because her interest in the food was so intense.”
“She told me she had a small starter salad and a bottle of sparkling water.”
“That is only half the story. When she called me over to take her order that is indeed what she asked for. I was surprised because it seemed to me that she had been wavering between pasta and pizza. Still, the customer is always right, so that is what I brought her. A small salad with the dressing on the side.”
“Didn’t she like it? I’ve had the salad here and it’s always good.”
“She called me over when she had almost finished the salad and told me that it was terrible. I apologized and said she wouldn’t be charged for it. I asked if she wanted to order anything else. She ordered a round of focaccia bread with extra butter, a portion of spaghetti aglio e olio, and a main course of osso buco. I brought it as quickly as possible because I could see she was impatient.”
“That sounds delicious,” said Fay. “Don’t tell me she didn’t like it?”
“She ate it all very quickly. Before she was finished, she called me over and ordered a tiramisu for dessert. Once she had finished that, she was angry with me. Oh, very angry indeed. She said the food was all horrible and the only thing she was prepared to pay for was the salad and the bottle of water.”
“Wow. What did you do?”
“I told her that Dr. Dyer had a certain reputation in the village and that he would not be pleased to hear that his visitor had refused to pay for such a large meal. I forgot to mention that she had consumed a bottle of excellent burgundy over the course of the meal too. The mention of Dr. Dyer was all that it took. She paid in full, with cash.”
“Hmm.”
“Do you know what I think, Fay, cara?”
“Probably.”
“I think that lady has an eating disorder.”
“I think you’re right. Poor thing. It must be difficult to be happy when you are at war with yourself like that.”
There was a pause while Luigi went to attend to the couple who had finished their coffee and cake. They didn’t seem overly alarmed by the near brawl in the restaurant. As they left, Vito and the two policemen came back in.
“They didn’t find anything,” Vito said with satisfaction.
“That’s because this wasn’t accidental,” said Fay. She called up the photograph of the three Estonians on her phone and pointed to the younger men. “There’s a good chance these two are behind the whole thing. They were staying at the Royal Hotel, but a few days ago they went off and rented a place on their own. It’s almost certain that they came to Bluebell Island to meet Martin Caldwell. If you can find them, you will probably find evidence connecting them to the murder. I’m sending this photo to your phone now, Sergeant.”
Sergeant Jones smiled. “It’s nice of you to take an interest, Fay love, but it’s honestly not necessary. Good-old-fashioned police work – that’s what will crack this case.”
Luigi stared at Fay’s phone. “But I saw those two men earlier this week. They came in here for pizza and asked me a mille questions about Bluebell Island and the locals. They wanted to know everybody’s little habits and… what do you say?… it sounds like idiot?”
“Idiosyncrasies?”
“Yes, that is the word. It was not only me they asked, but many others in the high street too. One of them said they were writing a history of the village.”
“The point is that neither of them was in the ristorante on Tuesday night,” said Vito. “So, if they didn’t poison that pizza, who did?”
“That,” said Fay, “is a very good question.”
Fay went home to fetch her car. The Volvo hadn’t seen this much action in weeks.
As she got behind the wheel, she remembered Dr. Dyer’s warning that it needed a service. She crossed her fingers and hoped it would get her to her destination. Then she remembered that she needed a certain item from the kitchen and popped inside to fetch it first. She laid this carefully on the seat next to her and turned the ignition.
The car started with a reluctant whine.
“Come on, old girl. You can do it. It’s not far.”
She pointed her car in the direction of Chadwick Manor.
As she pulled up in front of the old manor house for the second time in two days, she began to doubt herself. What if she was wrong about everything? It had all seemed so clear and logical just a few hours earlier. Now it sounded like the stuff of fantasy, even in the privacy of her own head.
The first thing she needed to establish was how predictable Lady Chadwick’s movements were. Because Fay spent so much time at the Cat’s Paw, she wasn’t as in tune with village life as she might have been. She just hoped Lady Chadwick was in a talkative mood.
Slinging her purse over one shoulder, Fay lifted the item off the seat and held it in front of her. She nudged the door shut with the side of her foot.
“Good afternoon, Miss Penrose. This is a surprise.” Lady Chadwick’s well-bred eyebrows rose at the sight of Fay. “What on earth is that?”
They looked at what Fay was carrying. It was a large wooden board with a clean cloth draped over something that was shaped like a mound.
“May I come in, Lady Chadwick? I need your help. This is a toxin that only you can neutralize.”
Lady Chadwick’s eyes darted towards the distant power station. She swatted at stray electrons.
“You’d better come inside, Miss Penrose. You have come to the right place.”
Fay walked in, carrying the board in front of her like a ceremonial offering. She felt another twinge of misgiving. If she was wrong about this, she would be made to look very silly indeed.
Lady Chadwick led her into the drawing room. She gave the board a curious look. “What is it, Miss Penrose?”
Fay put the wooden board on a coffee table and removed the cloth with a flourish. Lady Chadwick gasped.
It was a loaf of bread.
“Is that…?”
“I bought it from Bluebell Bakery on the high street. They assured me that it was gluten-free, but I think they have made a mistake.”
“I knew it! I have suspected the same thing myself, many times before. That is why I take precautions.”
“I don’t want to eat this bread if it is full of gluten,” explained Fay. “But I don’t want to waste it either. Is there anything you can do to neutralize the toxins, Lady Chadwick? Like you offered to neutralize the fluoride in m
y water?”
Fay held her breath.
“But of course, Miss Penrose.” Lady Chadwick went to fetch her purse. When she came back, she took a small vial of powder out of it.
“This will do the trick. A sprinkling of this powder will absorb all the gluten from the bread leaving it quite safe to eat.”
She unscrewed the lid and approached the coffee table. As she was about to start sprinkling, Fay touched her wrist.
“Just a moment, Lady Chadwick. Is that definitely your bottle? Please look closely at it.”
Lady Chadwick blinked. “Of course it’s mine. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Please humor me.”
“Oh, very well.” She held the bottle up to the light and put on her reading glasses. She seemed particularly interested in the lid.
“Is something wrong, Lady Chadwick?”
“I’m… not sure. It looks very much like my bottle, but the color of the lid is not quite right. This blue is lighter than I expected. And the bottle seems a little wider.”
“Would you mind checking your bag to see if you can find your original bottle? I’ll hold that one if you like.”
Pulling the sleeve of her sweater over her hand, Fay took the bottle from Lady Chadwick, taking care not to touch it with her bare skin.
“I don’t see how there can be two of them.” Lady Chadwick rummaged in her purse. Out came the bottle of blue water Fay had seen the day before, and another bottle of clear liquid that her hostess referred to as ‘my allergy remedy’. Suddenly, her hand stilled.
“What is it?”
“This… is most unexpected.” Lady Chadwick pulled out a glass bottle almost identical to the one Fay held in her hand. The lid was a slightly different color and the original bottle was narrower. Apart from that, it was difficult to tell them apart.
She looked up at Fay with confusion. Fay knew she had to press her advantage home before the older woman had time to gather her defenses.
The Cat's Paw Cozy Mysteries Page 14