Let Sleeping Murder Lie: A cozy mystery

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Let Sleeping Murder Lie: A cozy mystery Page 12

by Carmen Radtke


  “Mostly mine,” Hayley said. “I told her that I had a few worries, because my nan is so frail, and while I am convinced Ben is innocent, I needed to be sure before I could let him visit her.”

  “That’s clever.” Eve reached for a second bread-roll.

  “That’s either a back-handed compliment or an insult.”

  “It was meant as a compliment.”

  Hayley graciously accepted it with an incline of her head. “Next. John’s tea contained diazepam. The correct amount is unknown, but he usually had his tea at half past three to four-ish. It stood ready for him in the kitchen. He and Donna weren’t on the friendliest of terms back then, so they kept each other company as possible.”

  “Had they been fighting long?” Eve asked.

  “Ben said their relationship hit rock bottom when Donna said she’d make sure she’d get every single penny she was entitled to in the divorce, and the estate be damned.”

  “What did John say?” Eve’s curiosity was piqued.

  “He suffered a bad stroke before the police could question him. His speech took a while to come back. He confirmed Ben’s statement eventually.”

  “He would. Okay, was there any evidence on Ben’s clothes or shoes? Droplets of blood perhaps.” Eve swallowed. “Or brain matter?”

  “That’s a ghoulish thought. There were traces of Donna’s blood on his shoe soles, but nothing on his clothes or the shoe leather. Although he could have changed and burnt the things he’d worn if he’d killed her.”

  The idea caught Eve like a vicious punch. Could Ben be this cold-blooded and conniving? “The police would have asked the people he saw about his dress,” she said in his defence.

  “A grey business suit. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, unless you’re heavily into fashion.”

  Hayley’s phone tinkled. “I’ll see you at seven. That should be enough time for you to come up with ideas on how to pump Ben for information without letting him know what you’re after.”

  “Do you remember his handwriting?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Only a question.” Eve gave a dismissive shrug, unwilling to mention the sonnet yet.

  “I’m not sure I’d recognise anyone’s handwriting. I type everything in my phone.”

  “Handwriting’s safer,” Eve said. “Paper can be destroyed. Electronic evidence stays in the cloud.”

  “I’ll remember that if I ever plan a crime.” Hayley gave Eve a reassuring grin. “It’ll be fine. Wait and see.”

  “Last question. Did your source say anything about Donna’s lover?”

  “That was the interesting part. She didn’t mention it with a single word.” They shared a baffled glance.

  Eve pushed her trolley through the supermarket aisles, stressed out already. She could cook to a certain degree, but her skills were nothing to write home about. Would paper napkins do? She dimly remembered wife number two creating elaborate shapes out of starched linen napkins, or maybe having them created. That woman had a catering service on speed-dial. At least Crystal did a few things around the house herself.

  A message from Hayley saved Eve as she stood transfixed in the frozen dinner section. “I’ll bring the food. You supply the rest,” it read. Simple enough. An assortment of wine and non-alcoholic drinks should do. She already had beer, and while Hayley could walk home, Ben had to drive.

  Hayley arrived first, laden with casseroles and side dishes. She told a grateful Eve she’d accept reimbursement for the ingredients, but not a penny more. “These are all Heather’s experiments. If I didn’t know better I’d say she’s fattening us up for slaughter.”

  Eve placed a newly purchased potted plant in the centre of the dining table. She’d read that Aloe Vera improved the air, and it gave the kitchen a homely touch.

  Hayley peeled the price tag off the pot. “Someone here is trying to impress.”

  “Someone here is trying to not freak out.” Eve rearranged the cutlery on the paper napkins. She’d already put a set of cotton napkins into her trolley when she remembered they should be washed first; not that she ever did. Anyway, this should be fine for an informal evening among friends.

  “Nervous?” Hayley put the dishes in the oven, to keep them warm.

  “What if Ben finds out I’m meddling and that’s the end of it?”

  “The question is, why do you care? For yourself or for his benefit?” Hayley asked. “If it’s for your entertainment, stop sticking your nose in. If you do it to clear up a bad situation and help a man we presume to be innocent, that’s a good enough reason in my book.”

  To Eve’s relief, Ben arrived before they could dive into a deep philosophical discussion.

  He carried a bunch of anemones and a bottle of wine.

  Hayley greeted him with a peck on the cheek. Eve lingered, making sure her hands were full because she was not sure what terms they were really on. Or what she felt about him.

  “Hi,” she said, more sensing than seeing Hayley’s amused eye-roll.

  “Sorry we had to drag you here,” Hayley said to Ben. “I need to stay close while my nan’s under the weather.”

  “How is Letty?” he asked.

  “It’s just old age and too much work.” Hayley crossed her fingers. “I hope once Heather’s allowed to do the cooking unsupervised, I can send my nan away on a holiday. One where she is pampered and doesn’t have to lift a finger.”

  Hayley ushered Ben towards the kitchen, with Eve trailing behind. “You can see for yourself if her cooking’s up to scratch. The dinner’s courtesy of our new chef. Letty has decided cook sounds unprofessional when we pay for the service.”

  The food was excellent. The stew was rich, the meat tender and the vegetable and roast potatoes crispy. Eve thankfully concentrated on her meal and listened to Hayley’s stories about her grandmother.

  “How’s your father?” Eve asked during a lull.

  “Hanging in there.” Ben gave Eve a resigned glance. “I wish he had outside interests like Letty, but all of his life has revolved around the land.”

  “He must do something to keep himself occupied.” Hayley sounded horrified.

  “He watches TV, and I try to spend some quality time with him every day. But apart from Chris, there’s no-one else left of his old mates. Which is kind of understandable, given our situation.”

  “That’s awful,” Eve said. The poor man, sitting in a wheelchair, with nothing to keep him busy but his memories. No wonder he’d treated her coldly. Any person in Ben’s life must be a threat for his son’s attention, romantic involvement or not.

  “We should send him and my nan to a spa together.” Hayley pushed her empty plate away. “Not in September though. Heather and Bella are planning a cruise. Bella’s hoping to bag a man as a souvenir. Good on her, if you ask me. She’s been widowed forever.”

  Ben broke into loud laughter. “Is the local talent not enough for her?”

  “Bella says, these days she expects a bit of sophistication. Like a guy who knows the difference between ice-cream and gelato.”

  “Which is?” Eve asked, intrigued.

  “According to Bella, about one quid per scoop.”

  “Some people never change.” Ben chuckled.

  “Luckily they don’t. She’s responsible for Eve’s new hairstyle, by the way. Looks good, doesn’t it?” Hayley winked at Eve who instantly felt self-conscious again.

  “What about you?” she asked Hayley. “When are you going to see Bella? She’ll probably need every customer to finance her cruise.”

  Hayley ignored the question. “You should visit my nan,” she told Ben. “She’d love to see you.”

  “I might. If you don’t think it would be bad for her. Or taint your reputation.”

  Eve glanced at the empty dishes. “Shall we go to the living room?”

  “What about the dinner things?” Ben stacked the plates in swift, efficient movements.

  “They can wait.” Eve nudged her guests towards the sofa
and casually said, “You should write down your contact details for Letty.” She pushed a notepad and pen towards Ben. Her spirits soared as he picked them up.

  “There’s no need,” Hayley said.

  Eve kicked her.

  Hayley shut up.

  Blast. He’d written down his mobile number, not his name. Eve needed letters to compare the writing.

  Hayley’s phone buzzed. She checked it and frowned. “Sorry, guys, I’ve got to run.”

  “Is everything okay?” Ben got up with Hayley. “If you need my help …”

  “Gosh, no. A staff issue I need to sort. I’ll see you another time.”

  Eve accompanied Hayley to the door. Hayley whispered, “Good luck. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  An awkward silence filled the room. Eve tucked her hair behind her ears. “Music?” she asked.

  Ben looked around the room, with its chintz curtains and old-fashioned wallpaper. “I didn’t see you living in a time-capsule.”

  “It may not be my taste, but it’ll do for a while. Now I think of it, it saves me the trouble of figuring out what exactly my taste is.” She frowned. “It’s like I catch glimpses of a picture, but they change when I move on.” They sat down on chairs, an arm’s length apart.

  “A rolling stone,” he said.

  “Not quite as bad, I hope. What about you? Your home doesn’t strike me as a replica of your personality either.”

  Ben rubbed his chin. “I’m with you on that one. Maybe because it still feels mostly like my father’s place.”

  “Your wife must have loved that.” Eve could have slapped herself. Hadn’t she promised herself to stay away from that subject at least for a little longer?

  Ben didn’t appear to mind. “At first we thought we’d stay a short while, so the décor didn’t matter, and when our moving in became permanent, she no longer cared enough to make huge changes.”

  “That’s sad,” Eve said.

  “Nothing to be done about that in retrospect.”

  “I think a holiday for your father is an excellent idea.”

  “It’d take dynamite to budge him.”

  “What do you do when you need a break?”

  He gave her a wry smile. “I take my fishing rod.”

  “My father and his wife have asked me to see them for Christmas, or Thanksgiving,” Eve heard herself say.

  “So, you’re going?”

  “I don’t know. I might do it.”

  “You should. I’ve learned the hard way not to put off things, because you never know how long your chances last.”

  Eve drew in her breath. Was he talking about his wife, or his lost freedom? “I’ll think about it,” she said. “I’ve got months and months to decide.” She looked around. “You’re right. That wallpaper really is hideous. I never really noticed.”

  “Perhaps you should take someone along to viewings before your next move.”

  “Maybe I should.”

  “I should be on my way too,” he said, but he stayed in his spot.

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Another time.” He picked up the paper with his phone number. Hayley had forgotten to take it. “Can you give this to Letty for me?”

  “Sure, if you don’t want to do it yourself.”

  “Letty’s an old woman. I don’t want to cause her any trouble, and you’ve seen for yourself, I’m not exactly welcome in public.”

  “Are you planning to hide forever?”

  “I’ll stick around as long as my father needs me to.” His face told her he considered this subject closed.

  “What a pity he didn’t remarry,” she said nevertheless.

  “Spoken from experience?” He gave her a wry smile.

  “Well, my dad had the excellent taste to originally marry my mother, so I might be willing to overlook one or two later lapses in judgment.”

  “Or he realised your mother was impossible to replace and he settled for a compromise.”

  Eve nodded in appreciation. “That sounds much nicer than my theory. Can I borrow that quote?”

  “It’s all yours. You can also have, ‘Beware of dinner guests who saddle you with the dirty dishes’.”

  His cheek rested for a moment on hers as he said good-bye.

  She closed the door behind him and leant against it. What had she learnt? Not a damn thing when it came to the poem or his true feelings for Donna, she admitted to herself. But another issue had become clear. Hayley had been right all along. She did have a massive crush, and if she wanted to have a fighting chance with Ben, she needed to officially clear his name.

  She went to bed with a notepad on her nightstand. If inspiration struck, she had to be prepared.

  A faint clink from downstairs registered at the back of her mind as she dozed off.

  Chapter 16

  Eve stared at the brick in her hand. It had smashed a hole in a window. She’d swept up the shards and vacuumed twice before it sank in what happened. Scrawled with a black permanent marker on the brick was the word Murderer.

  The glazier had promised to send out a man within the hour to replace the broken pane, to Eve’s relief. She’d expected a long wait. She weighed the brick in her hand. It would have been useless to call the police and have it finger-printed, and she also intended to leave the insurance company out of it.

  No doubt the vandal wanted to call attention to Ben and stir up more trouble. She wouldn’t tell Ben either, because he’d use this vandalism as another reason to stay away. Hayley would have to know though. The pub would be secured, and the CCTV camera was in plain sight, but anyone intent on hurting Ben might not think clearly.

  Eve put the brick in a kitchen drawer and went to do yesterday’s dishes, all the while fighting the niggling feeling all her movements might be watched. That’s what the nightly visitor wanted, to stir paranoia. In a small town he might get away with stalking her cottage in the middle of the night. In broad daylight, there was always someone who watched your movements.

  When did she hear the clink? She remembered checking her alarm clock a few minutes before one. Ben had left around 9.30pm. That gave the vandal a few hours to spot Ben, get a brick and wait until the neighbourhood was asleep.

  The glazier accepted Eve’s explanation about accidentally hitting a rock while digging in her garden without batting an eyelid. All he cared about was her cheque.

  “Why would anyone target you?” Hayley asked in a sombre mood. “It would make more sense to smash in Ben’s windows, or his car.”

  Eve had given this question a lot of thought as well. “Because he’d shrug it off if someone hurls a brick through his window? Or because his house is remote and might have hidden security cameras installed?”

  “Or your visitor wanted to make sure Ben stays isolated,” Hayley said. “Unless – what if it’s a warning? To stay away from a murderer?”

  “I thought we’d agreed he’s innocent.” Eve’s left eye twitched.

  “But we’re the only ones who think so. Still, it’s a bit extreme to smash in your window all because Ben visited once. After five years, people really should move on.” Hayley glanced at her mid-morning regulars, nursing their pints. The low music shielded their conversation from prying ears. “Do you think it was personal? That your visitor was close to Donna?”

  “The secret lover,” Eve said. “You would have heard if she formed any open friendships in town, but if they were careful enough, they would be able to keep it secret.”

  “And he wants to punish Ben by driving you away.” Hayley’s eyes lit up. “In which case he must be a local guy, who knew that Ben had reappeared and who also saw him enter or leave Ivy Cottage.”

  One of the regulars whistled for Hayley’s attention. “What does a body have to do to get a drop in his glass?”

  “How about asking nicely, Bob?” Hayley strolled over to the bar, nodding towards the kitchen door and miming scribbling. Eve relaxed. Hayley would discreetly pump Heather for information, and then she’d wri
te down the results.

  Eve typed furiously to make up for a lost morning. She had no intention of giving up her planned walk. When the phone received a new message, she groaned in frustration. Why couldn’t people leave her in peace?

  She perked up as she read the message. John had renewed his interest in showing Eve the medals, Ben wrote.

  She replied, “Would love to visit. 4pm okay?”

  She twirled twice on her swivel chair before she concentrated on her task again.

  Eve kept an eye on the rear-view mirror. Sweat slicked her palms as she gripped the steering wheel unnecessarily tight. She deliberately took a detour along minor roads to see if another car followed her, but so far, she seemed to be alone. She pulled into a side road and switched off the engine. Nobody came past. Her pulse slowed until it reached its normal pace. Her nerves had frayed more than she’d expected. She started the car again and drove on.

  Ben kept his greeting casual. Eve hoped his detachment was a show he put on for John. The old man sat on the patio, his eyes half-closed, but Eve could swear he registered every tiny change in the atmosphere.

  “Hello, Mr Dryden,” she said. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

  “Call me John.” He lifted his left hand agonisingly slow until it reached higher than his head.

  Chris came out of the house, towelling his hands dry. The sun glistened on his skin, and his rolled-up sleeves exposed well-defined muscles. His shirt had the top four buttons undone.

  Eve wondered if he showed off his looks for her benefit, until she noticed he seemed taken aback to see her. The subtle preening came natural to him, then.

  She saw Chris dart a glance at Ben, whose slender physique was no match for his own muscle tone. A friendly competition would explain it.

  “Hi Chris,” she said.

  “Nice surprise to see you again.” His smile exposed white teeth that were saved from boring perfection by a crooked incisor.

  “Eve is my visitor. Ben!” John might be physically frail, but he could still show himself in command.

 

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