The Tapestry Bag

by Isabella Muir

  He didn’t respond to my accusation, but instead, he continued, ‘When Mr Peters came to us with his report we released the news to the press because we hoped a television broadcast may flush Zara Carpenter out.’

  ‘You talk as though you thought she was to blame. She’s the victim here, Gabrielle didn’t only run her boyfriend down, she tried to frame her sister for it.’

  ‘Joel Stewart was the victim. We realised there was more to his death when we found the note.’

  ‘Which note?’

  ‘The one hidden behind Mr Stewart’s gravestone.’

  ‘You found that note? But how?’

  ‘When Mr Peters told us he’d seen Miss Carpenter in the cemetery we did a fingertip search of the area. We found the note, which indicated Mr Stewart’s death was not a straightforward road traffic accident.’

  ‘Why did you leave the note there? Wasn’t it evidence?’

  ‘We thought the perpetrator may have had second thoughts and returned to the grave to retrieve it. And then you came along.’

  ‘You knew I’d taken it?’

  ‘We’ve been keeping a watch on the gravestone. Murder is a serious crime, Mrs Juke.’

  ‘So you used me? You knew I’d have more luck in finding Zara than you.’

  ‘I’ll admit it, you’ve helped us a lot. We were hoping the news coverage would flush out something, someone. We just didn’t quite know how, when or who.’

  ‘Did you know about the antipathy between Zara and her sister?’

  ‘We guessed. When a much-loved sister goes missing it doesn’t normally result in the level of disinterest Miss Gabrielle Carpenter showed whenever we spoke to her.’

  ‘You thought I’d have more luck in extracting a confession than the might of Tidehaven police force?’

  ‘As I said earlier, we’re very grateful for all you’ve done. You have a flair for seeking out the truth. Perhaps you’ve inherited it from your father? You said he used to be a detective, isn’t that right? Or maybe from those books of yours? Of course, she’ll need to repeat her confession to us, there’s no saying whether she’ll change her story. You’ve been extremely helpful, Mrs Juke, but this is where we take over. Your role in this case is now over.’

  ‘You know Gabrielle wrote the two letters, the ones I gave you. It was never about blackmail, she just wanted to point the finger, to cast doubt. Her own sister, can you believe it?’

  ‘You’d be surprised at what people will do. We see the worst of human beings in this job. I’ll repeat my advice to you, stick with the day job. Books won’t let you down, they won’t get you into dangerous situations, or give you sleepless nights.’

  I didn’t know whether to be irritated by all DS Bright had told me, or proud I’d been able to bring a successful conclusion to the case, a case that had stumped the police, whatever he said. His words about the darker side of human nature reminded me that real life could be as bleak as some of the tales I’d spent years reading. Maybe more so.

  I’d done all I could and whatever punishment was to be meted out to Gabrielle was out of my hands. My intention had always been to look out for my friend and that’s what I’d done, so now I could rest easy. But first there were a few people I needed to speak to and a few apologies I needed to make.

  Chapter 32

  All the things that one had read a hundred times – things that happen to other people, not to oneself.

  The Mysterious Affair at Styles - Agatha Christie

  I wanted to let dad know the outcome of the day’s events and I needed to come clean with Greg. But first I had to tell Zara the truth about Joel’s death so she could stop blaming herself.

  Catching the bus again, this time I found her and Luke sitting on a bench on Brightport seafront. I’d walked towards the squat from Town Hall Square, not expecting to find them en route. They were deep in conversation as I approached.

  ‘Hello again, mind if I join you?’

  ‘We were just talking about you,’ Zara said.

  ‘Nothing too awful, I hope.’

  ‘I was trying to persuade Zara to go a bit easier on you, you’re on her side and she’s lucky to have a friend who cares,’ Luke said, taking Zara’s hand in his. There was something brighter about her, not just what she was wearing. I noticed her face was less pale and there was a light back in her eyes. Perhaps she felt easier since unburdening herself just a few hours earlier.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve made it difficult for you, Janie, I’m grateful for all you’ve done, really I am.’

  It was as though she had worked through some of her fears and sorrows and although she wasn’t quite out of the tunnel yet, at least she could see the light at the end of it.

  ‘I have some news for you. It will be difficult for you to hear, but now I know what happened to Joel that night.’

  ‘You do?’

  Part of me wanted to save her from any more sadness, but she would hear from the police soon enough and it was better for her to hear it from me, rather than an objective stranger.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Zara, it’s worse than any of us could have guessed. You told me earlier that Gabrielle was there that night.’

  ‘Yes, I saw them together and then she left.’

  ‘Well, that’s just it. She didn’t leave. She saw you together. It seems Joel had promised her he was going to break it off with you, to come clean and to make a life with her. It wasn’t just a fling, at least not from her point of view. So, when she saw him kiss you it made her wild.’

  ‘Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.’ She buried her face in Luke’s shoulder.

  He stroked her hair and then said quietly, ‘you need to hear this Zara, you need to know the truth about that night so that you can move forward with your life. Otherwise the not knowing will haunt you forever.’

  I told them both all that Gabrielle had told me, maintaining as gentle a tone as possible. All the time I spoke Zara didn’t lift her head from Luke’s shoulder.

  ‘What will happen to her?’ Luke asked.

  I shook my head. ‘It’s up to the police now. She’s confessed, so that will stand in her favour. It wasn’t premeditated, I suppose the French would call it a crime of passion.’

  ‘All this time I thought it was my fault, that if I hadn’t followed him that night then the accident wouldn’t have happened. I was jealous of Gabrielle, but I can see now that what she felt for him was more to do with possession than love. If she had really loved him she could never have done such a dreadful thing. Maybe she’s right, she and Joel are the same kind of people, if he hadn’t cheated on me with my sister it would have been someone else.’

  I wasn’t going to mention Petula, Zara had enough bad news to absorb without learning that her boyfriend had taken advantage of an innocent young girl.

  ‘What about my parents, will they have to be told?’ Zara sat up, exposing her tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes.

  ‘The police will need to inform them. Gabrielle might like their support? There’ll be a court case, of course, we’ll both have to explain what we know. But I’ll be beside you all the way.’

  ‘She told you, didn’t she?’ Zara said.

  I waited for her to explain.

  ‘Gabrielle told you about my attempt at suicide?’

  I nodded and let her continue.

  ‘My parents never forgave me. All religions believe in the sanctity of life, but for Catholics suicide scores highly in their list of sins. I thought true confession would lead to forgiveness, but I don’t think my mother saw it that way. Do you think she will be any less angry with a murderer?’

  ‘Do you forgive your sister then?’ I asked.

  ‘No, but I feel sorry for her. She’s destroyed three lives, Joel’s, her own and mine.’

  ‘She’s only destroyed your life if you let her,’ Luke said, gripping her hand in his. ‘You have a chance to start again.’

  ‘If I were you I’d grab that offer with both hands,’ I said. ‘Just think of a
ll that serenading you’ll enjoy and you won’t even have to throw a coin in his hat.’

  I hugged them both before I left and as I turned back to wave they didn’t even see me. They were turned towards each other, both of them smiling. It was the perfect picture.

  All that was left now was for me to relate what had happened to the two most important men in my life. I decided to cheat by telling them at the same time, in the hope dad would come to my rescue if Greg lost his rag.

  By the time I got home all I wanted was to sink into a bath, but that would have to wait.

  ‘Greg, do you mind if we don’t go out tonight? Dad’s got a problem with his kitchen tap. I said you’d take a look at it,’ I told him, as soon as he walked in the door.

  ‘I can pop round tomorrow, if you like.’

  ‘No, it’s urgent, he can’t even make a cuppa. I said we’d call round this evening.’

  ‘I was looking forward to taking you out.’

  ‘Well, you will be taking me out, it’s just that it’ll be to dad’s. I’ll cook while you fix the tap.’

  ‘Oh blimey, Janie, I’m hopeless at plumbing, you need someone who knows what they’re doing. Alex at work, I’ll ask him to call in.’

  ‘No, dad doesn’t like strangers calling in.’

  ‘He’s not a stranger, I know him. Anyway, he has patients calling in every day - he doesn’t know them.’

  ‘Don’t be awkward, come on. We haven’t all had supper together for ages. It’ll be fun.’

  When we arrived at dad’s and Greg watched him fill the kettle from a fully working kitchen tap, I knew I’d have to come clean pretty quickly.

  ‘What’s going on? Philip, your daughter has got me round here under false pretences. Do you know what it’s all about?’

  ‘Sit down, both of you,’ I said. ‘I need to tell you a few things. Greg, I need you to stay calm and listen, don’t interrupt.’

  They sipped their drinks while I recounted all that had happened over recent days. I skipped over anything to do with Mr Peters, Owen or Crystal, as it turned out none of that mattered, now I knew the truth.

  When I finished speaking Greg shook his head and was quiet.

  ‘What are you thinking? Are you cross with me?’

  ‘I’m thinking I hope Bean isn’t twins.’

  ‘It’s grim, isn’t it? Like DS Bright said, there are some gruesome folk out there.’

  ‘How can someone do that to their own sister? I can’t bear the thought of it.’

  ‘It makes me grateful I’m an only child,’ I said, walking around to stand behind my dad. ‘And even more grateful I have the best dad, who never tires of listening to me and has the best advice in the business.’

  ‘Second only to Agatha?’ dad said.

  ‘Your daughter is wilful, impetuous and disobedient,’ Greg said, looking at me as he spoke.

  ‘Good job she has such a wonderful husband then, to keep her in line,’ dad said.

  ‘Well said, Philip. Yes, she’s lucky to have me,’ said Greg, moving away from me as I went to poke him in the ribs. ‘And, of course, the feeling is mutual. Now the case of the missing Zara Carpenter has been well and truly solved, my wife can concentrate on preparing to become a mother. She’ll settle down into family life and I’ll come home to proper home-cooked meals every night. Slippers warmed by the fire, clothes neatly pressed, packed lunch prepared on a daily basis and my morning cup of tea all waiting for me each morning.’

  ‘Do you plan to divorce me and marry someone else then?’

  ‘Greg’s right though, Janie,’ dad said. ‘It’s time to put your sleuthing notebook away now and get your knitting needles out. Motherhood is a precious thing and you want to be well rested and well prepared when the little one arrives.’

  ‘Okay, you both win. I’ll behave, at least for a while.’

  I left it a couple of days before I rang Libby. She thanked me several times for the scoop. Her approach was professional and after the interview she promised I could see the article before it went to press. Of course, we had to be careful that whatever her paper printed wouldn’t jeopardise the criminal case.

  Her focus was the personal story behind the tragedy. Her editor showed his delight by promoting her. No longer was she consigned to cover weddings and local fetes; he promised she would be the first on the scene for any significant news stories.

  ‘We’ll make a good team, you and I,’ she joked, when she called in to the library van to tell me her news.

  ‘A good team?’

  ‘Yes, you ferret out the stories and I’ll report them.’

  ‘Don’t let Greg hear you say that.’

  ‘You’re a natural, you’ve a nose for it.’

  ‘Sticking it into everyone’s business, you mean?’

  ‘Zara is grateful you did.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  Dad, Greg and Zara had praised me for solving the crime, but part of me felt I’d been lucky, stumbling on the truth, rather than seeking it out. In ‘Styles’ Hastings challenges Miss Howard, asking her, ‘if you were mixed up in a crime, say a murder, you’d be able to spot the murderer right off?’ She was confident she could, ‘I’d feel it in my fingertips if he came near me,’ she told him.

  Well, for all my antipathy towards Gabrielle, there was never a moment when I thought her capable of running down poor Joel. As devious and deceitful as he was, he didn’t deserve to die like that.

  A quiet Wednesday morning in the library van gave me a chance to do very little. I didn’t want to read, I didn’t even want to think too much and was hoping I didn’t have to talk to customers. I contented myself with dusting and tidying and as I was finishing the final fiction shelf, I heard the door open.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said, approaching the counter with a purposeful stride.

  ‘Mr Furness, hello there. How can I help? It’s the non-fiction you like, isn’t it? I’m afraid we don’t have anything new at the moment. If you have a request I can put it forward to the central library. They’re helpful like that.’

  ‘It’s not a book I’m after,’ he said, putting a copy of the local paper down on the counter. ‘This is you, isn’t it?’ he asked, pointing to Libby’s article about Zara.

  ‘Er, yes.’

  ‘You did well, made a better job of it than the police.’

  ‘I was just helping out a friend.’ His fixed stare was making me uncomfortable. I waited, hoping he would move over to the book shelves.

  ‘The luggage ticket,’ he said.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘The luggage ticket you have in your lost property box. It’s mine.’

  ‘I thought…when I asked you before…’

  ‘I lied.’

  I took the box out from under the counter and lifted out the envelope containing the ticket.

  ‘There you go,’ I said, handing it to him.

  He shook his head and put the envelope back into the box.

  ‘You’ll need it.’

  ‘Why would I need it?’

  ‘If you help me, you’ll need it. Will you help me?’

  His expression was impassive, but his voice was faltering. I rifled through the filing cabinets in my mind; Bean, Greg and Zara. My search for Zara had taught me I could be more than just a good mum and wife. Janie Juke, solving mysteries. I like the sound of that.

  ‘Yes, I’ll help you,’ I said.

  Thanks go…

  …to Sarah and David for their considered thoughts and generous advice

  …to Chris, my writing buddy, for all his encouragement, positivity and enthusiasm

  …and to Al, for always believing in me.

  About the author

  Isabella rediscovered her love of writing fiction during two happy years working on and completing her MA in Professional Writing.

  The Tapestry Bag is the first in a series of Janie Juke mysteries and was inspired by one of the short stories from Isabella’s anthology, Ivory Vellum. To discover whether Janie Juke succeed
s with her next case, watch out for the second in the series, Lost Property.

  Aside from her love of words, Isabel has a love of all things caravan-like. She has enjoyed several years travelling in the UK and abroad and in recent times has been running a small campsite in West Sussex, with her husband.

  Her faithful companion, Scottish terrier Hamish, is never far from her side.

  Find out more about Isabella, her published books, as well as her forthcoming titles at: www.isabellamuir.com

  and follow Isabella on Twitter: @nofixedabode123