A Body in the Bookshop

by Helen Cox

  ‘What’s in there?’ Ricci asked.

  Kitt unzipped the bag, and produced a small square Tupperware box. ‘Halloran texted me to let me know he wouldn’t get home until late and so had to cancel a dinner we had planned. I couldn’t stand the thought of him going without. Especially not after I’d taken so much trouble to find the recipe for this delicious beef and vegetable stew with crusted rosemary dumplings. I read about it in an issue of Good Food a few months back and couldn’t for the life of me remember where I’d put the clipping. I tried to find it online but none of the recipes were quite right so after a hunt through every drawer in the kitchen I finally unearthed it. After all that I’m sure you can understand I didn’t want it to go to waste so I brought some of the meal I’d cooked out here for him. In fact, I put it into several packages so there’s plenty for everyone.’ Kitt pushed the box into Ricci’s hand and offered her an over-sized smile.

  Evie looked down at her Converse. It was the only safe place to look. If she made eye contact with anyone right now she would likely start laughing about what she’d just witnessed. Kitt Hartley playing the ditsy girlfriend. That’s something she thought she’d never see.

  Ricci sighed, eyeing the Tupperware. ‘I suppose I could overlook this infringement of protocol under the circumstances, if you leave the scene this second.’

  ‘That’s so kind of you, I shan’t forget this,’ said Kitt as she handed the bag over to Halloran, who had a somewhat dazed look on his face after Kitt’s unexpected display. ‘There’s some cake in there for you all too. Fresh ginger, I made it the other day. I hope it helps see you through.’

  With that, Kitt gave Ricci a final nod of gratitude and marched off towards Jacob.

  Evie followed as quickly as she could. It was best they got out of there before Ricci asked any more questions.

  ‘You didn’t have dinner plans with Halloran,’ Evie said when they were safely out of earshot. ‘Me and you were just going to have a night in at the cottage.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kitt, ‘but if there’s something I’ve learned in my brief time as a sleuth it’s that an alibi always comes in handy. Speaking of which, we’ve got some investigating to do around which of Alim’s acquaintances does and doesn’t have an alibi for the time he was murdered.’

  Twenty-Four

  Evie sucked her banana milkshake up through a straw and then looked at her watch again. Kitt had sent her a text message mid-morning asking her to meet for lunch at Shake It! – one of the city’s three milkshake bars. It was situated in Coffee Yard, York’s longest snickelway that led off Grape Lane, where Evie worked at Daisy Chain Beauty. Kitt had said to meet at one o’clock and it was now seven minutes past. Even though Kitt had much further to walk from the library than Evie had to walk from the salon, it wasn’t like her to be late. But then, it wasn’t like Kitt to suggest meeting up in a milkshake bar either. As a rule she favoured tea rooms where she was much more likely to be able to get a cup of Lady Grey. Evie had sent Kitt a return text message asking why she wanted to meet here but hadn’t received a response. Given the revelations of the night before, and how set Kitt was on solving this case, there was only one likely conclusion to be drawn: somehow, this place was connected with the crimes surrounding Bootham Bar Books.

  Kitt had instructed Evie, again without any explanation, to find a seat at the counter if possible, which she had done. Perched on her tall stool, she started looking around for any clue that might help her understand what all this was about.

  Because of the slim shape of the snickelways that wound through the centre of town, the establishment was also long and thin. The walls were painted in aquamarine and stencilled with milkshakes in shades of pink and yellow. The seats were upholstered in red and white leather in typical American diner style and small friendship groups comprised of people much younger than Evie clustered around the tables and huddled in the booths. All in all, it seemed a perfectly innocent scene.

  Evie was just about to look at her watch again when the door swung open and Kitt bustled in, followed closely by Grace. Even from her seat at the counter, Evie could tell that they were mid-argument about something; Kitt had the tight look about her that she always got when she was trying to keep her cool.

  The librarian broke off her conversation for a moment to look around for her friend and, on catching Evie’s eye, marched straight to the counter. In her maroon trilby and double-breasted winter coat, she looked a great deal more formal than the other patrons, who were mostly lolling about in jeans and jumpers. Grace looked a bit more like she belonged.

  ‘Sorry we’re late, there was a complication . . .’ said Kitt, eyeing her assistant.

  ‘It’s only nine minutes past,’ said Grace. ‘We’d have got here sooner if we’d come the way I suggested.’

  ‘It’s six and two threes,’ Kitt said. ‘We’d have been nine minutes late whichever way we came.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t want to be left out, like I was last night.’

  Kitt glanced at Evie. ‘And now you know why we’re late. Grace insisted in coming along so we had to find someone to cover the enquiry desk. No easy thing during the lunching hours.’

  ‘But we managed,’ said Grace, sitting up to the counter on a stool.

  Placing her trilby on the counter, Kitt did the same.

  ‘So, I take it we’re not here because you’ve developed a taste for milkshakes?’ said Evie.

  ‘For the record, I don’t exclusively drink Lady Grey. But a milkshake wouldn’t be my drink of choice for the middle of December, no.’

  Evie giggled. She and Kitt differed here. For Evie, ice cream and ice-cream-related goods were fair game any time of the year. She would eat an ice-cream sundae on a freezing January morning if the mood took her.

  Grace lowered her voice and then nodded to the waiter and waitress standing behind the counter. ‘We’re here because Alim Buruk’s girlfriend is on the staff.’

  ‘What?’ Evie said, louder than she meant to. She readjusted her volume and hissed, ‘Alim had a girlfriend?’

  Kitt nodded. ‘Follow my lead.’

  And with that, the librarian took a newspaper out of her handbag, opened it and began to read.

  Evie frowned over at Grace who offered Evie a wink in return. Clearly she had had the luxury of being briefed on the walk to the milkshake bar.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Grace called over to the waitress. ‘Do you mind if we order? We’re on our lunch break and short of time.’

  The waitress, who had long black hair and a cherubic face, didn’t say anything but came over with her notepad and pen in hand. She was wearing a knee-length dress that was the same aquamarine as the walls. She had a white apron tied around her waist and her name tag read ‘Cammie’. Evie couldn’t see her feet because the counter was in her way, but in her imagination she was wearing roller skates like the diner waitresses she remembered from old American TV shows. It was obvious from the way the waitress was moving that she couldn’t possibly be wearing skates but Evie wasn’t about to let reality get in the way of a fun fantasy. After the drama of the last twenty-four hours, fun fantasies were a welcome relief.

  ‘What are you having?’ Cammie asked Grace.

  ‘A chocolate milkshake for me please, and some fries.’

  Cammie again didn’t say anything but noted down the order in her notebook.

  ‘What are you having, Kitt?’ asked Grace, and then when Kitt didn’t respond she pushed again, ‘Kitt?’

  ‘What? Oh sorry, I was totally distracted by the newspaper. Donald Oakes from the bookshop was found dead near the Humber Bridge last night. Had you heard?’

  ‘No, I hadn’t,’ Grace lied. ‘That’s terrible.’

  ‘I know. He was such a lovely man. But the tragedy doesn’t end there. Apparently his death might be linked with somebody else’s. A poor young man who was murdered in hospital a couple of days ago.
’

  ‘Well, what are the police doing about it?’ asked Grace in what Evie recognized as mock outrage. Truth be told, they were both going a bit OTT with this charade and Evie had to bite her lip to keep from smirking.

  ‘Not enough,’ Cammie said at last, putting a hand on her hip. ‘That’s what.’

  ‘Do you . . . know something about these deaths?’ Kitt asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

  Cammie shook her head. ‘I knew the lad who died, Alim.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ said Kitt. ‘I didn’t think. York’s a small place. I should have been more careful about what I was saying.’

  The girl shrugged one shoulder and looked down at the counter.

  ‘I really am sorry,’ Kitt said, leaning forward in her seat. ‘Were you close?’

  ‘We were sort of . . . seeing each other. You know, on and off.’

  ‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ Evie said, and then realizing she might be useful in coaxing more than a shrug or a monosyllabic response. ‘I had a boyfriend die a couple of months ago. I know the sadness and guilt that goes with that.’

  ‘Guilt?’ said Cammie, and then jabbing her thumb into her chest added, ‘I don’t feel guilty. Just livid.’

  ‘About the police not doing enough to find Alim’s killer?’ asked Grace.

  ‘Aye,’ said Cammie. ‘I know who his killer is. I told the police and they did nothing about it.’

  ‘That seems strange,’ said Kitt. ‘Why didn’t they act on your information?’

  ‘Probably because I sound soft in the head when I say it. Doesn’t make it any less true though.’

  ‘I don’t see how pointing the police in the direction of a prime suspect in a murder case could make you seem soft,’ said Kitt.

  Cammie looked Kitt up and down before speaking. ‘Because I named Alim’s mother as his killer and the police won’t touch her.’

  ‘His mother?’ Evie said, remembering her own encounter with Amira Buruk and how she had threatened her just for talking to her son.

  ‘I know, everyone thinks nobody would do something like that to their own son. Alim’s mum is the exception and anyone who’s met her would know exactly what I mean.’

  Evie pressed her lips together. She wanted to agree with Cammie. Though the idea of being responsible for your own child’s death seemed unthinkable, having met Amira Buruk in person, there wasn’t much she wouldn’t put past her.

  ‘Have you tried going back to the police?’ asked Grace. ‘Sometimes applying a bit of pressure can help. Surely they want to solve this case as quick as they can?’

  Cammie sighed. ‘I tried a couple of times. Wouldn’t usually be so keen to spend that much time in a police station but I thought I had to try, for Alim. They reckon they don’t have any proof of her involvement. I reckon they’re just scared of her.’

  ‘Maybe it’s hard for them to think about a woman killing her own child,’ said Evie. ‘It is difficult to understand what might drive a person to do something like that.’

  ‘It’s just proof that Alim’s mum doesn’t care about anyone except herself. Never has done, never will.’

  ‘So, killing her son somehow benefited her?’ Kitt said.

  Cammie looked over at her colleague who was making a milkshake a little further down the counter and lowered her voice. ‘It’s been in the news that Alim was involved in a robbery just before he died. It was his mum who put him up to it. But the police caught up with Alim and all hell broke loose. His mum was convinced Alim was going to say something about her involvement.’

  ‘Surely she didn’t believe her own son would testify against her?’ said Grace.

  ‘No, she knew he would be too afraid to do something like that but, well, Alim could be really sweet when he wanted to be but he wasn’t a criminal mastermind. She thought he was going to give her away by accident. The last time I talked to him, he said that’s all she kept going on about. How careful he had to be about what he said to anyone and to keep his mouth shut while she sorted out the mess he’d made.’

  ‘God,’ said Evie, holding a hand to her chest as she remembered how Alim had reacted to his mother walking through the hospital door. ‘I don’t mean to be funny, but I sort of hope you’ve got it wrong. I can’t imagine living a life where I was that scared of my mother.’

  Cammie nodded. ‘I’m not going to pretend Alim was an angel, because he wasn’t. But he didn’t deserve to die like that. He was soft at heart really.’

  ‘Was he good to you?’ Grace asked with a smile.

  ‘Most of the time,’ Cammie said. ‘I probably shouldn’t say this but I don’t suppose it matters much now. When he did that robbery for his mother, he stole a couple of things for me. I didn’t want to tell the police about them because I thought they’d take them away as evidence and they are the last things he ever gave me.’

  ‘Were they expensive rare books like the other things that were taken from the bookshop?’ asked Kitt.

  ‘No, nothing expensive. But thoughtful. A soft toy and a copy of my favourite childhood book.’

  So that explained the giant Peter Rabbit and the Secret Seven book that had also gone missing.

  ‘When was the last time you saw Alim?’ asked Kitt.

  ‘The night after the robbery, when he gave me the things he took. We’d been ’aving an argument and he gave me those presents to sort of make up.’ As Cammie spoke, Evie noticed tears forming in the young girl’s eyes.

  ‘I’m really sorry to have brought this up,’ said Kitt.

  ‘It’s all right,’ said Cammie with a sniff. ‘It’s sort of nice to have someone to talk to about it. I’ll – I’ll get you your milkshake . . . did you want to add anything to the order?’

  ‘Let’s see now, I think I still have time for a little something,’ Kitt said glancing at the menu. ‘I’ll try the Christmas Caramallow Milkshake with added candy cane syrup, festive fudge chunks, extra-thick snow cream and a gingerbread wafer.’

  ‘Would you like to add an extra sauce?’ Cammie asked.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Kitt. ‘I don’t want to go overboard.’

  Evie smirked at Grace to find Kitt’s assistant was also trying to stifle a smile.

  ‘Oh and Cammie,’ Kitt said, pulling a card out from her handbag. ‘Here. If you ever want someone to talk to, you can call me and I’ll be happy to listen.’

  Cammie looked at the card with a certain degree of suspicion but accepted it anyway and put it in the pocket of her apron. ‘Thanks,’ she managed, before trotting off to the milkshake machine to whip up their order.

  Twenty-Five

  Evie tried to get comfortable in one of the floral armchairs in the second-floor office of the library. No matter which way she turned, however, she just couldn’t sit in a position that felt right.

  ‘Everything OK over there?’ said Kitt, eyeing her best friend while she set their tea down on the table.

  ‘Groovy,’ Evie replied.

  ‘Interesting choice of words considering you look like you’re doing a little jig.’

  At this Evie tried with all her might to sit still – no small feat given everything that was going on just now. After all the information gathered over the past day or so, Halloran had called an emergency off-the-books meeting and he would be arriving any minute, presumably with Charley in tow. Evie had thought it rather out of character for Halloran to suggest a meeting like this – previously he had just passed information on through Kitt – but perhaps he had finally come to the same conclusion she had: that this case was getting more complicated by the minute and the more information they could collate by working together, the better.

  ‘I’m nervous,’ Evie admitted. ‘I haven’t spoken to Charley properly since . . . you know.’

  ‘You saw her last night and she seemed all right,’ Kitt said, stirring her tea.

  Evie s
hrugged. ‘I’m not convinced, she seemed a bit offish at times. We didn’t part on exactly pristine terms.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,’ said Kitt. ‘Why not?’

  Evie did what she could to keep her tone casual. ‘I said what happened had to be a one-off.’

  ‘And Banks was hoping for more than that?’

  ‘From what she said, yes, I think so.’

  ‘Well, it’s never ideal news to find out a person you care for doesn’t want the same things as you,’ said Kitt. ‘But if that’s what you wanted I’m sure Banks can understand that, she’s a grown woman.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Evie, toying with one of her blonde curls. ‘Thing is, I think she could see that it wasn’t what I wanted. Or at least that I wasn’t sure if it was what I really wanted.’

  ‘So . . . you do want to see her again? As more than friends I mean,’ Kitt said with a frown.

  ‘Too soon to say.’

  The office door swung open then and Grace stepped through it closely followed by Halloran. This Evie had been expecting. What she wasn’t expecting was for two more men to walk through the door, one much older than the other, who she didn’t recognize. Charley followed on afterwards. Evie was momentarily distracted from the two strangers by her attempts to gauge Charley’s general demeanour. Was Charley as nervous as she was? She didn’t look it.

  Remembering that staring was the height of bad manners, Evie offered Halloran, Banks and the men she didn’t recognize a polite smile but then looked down at her cup of tea and took a sip, trying to refocus her thoughts. She needed to keep her mind on the business of solving this book mystery. She had urged Kitt to get involved before her night with Charley and though it might be easier to just stop helping out and keep her distance, Evie knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. She’d made a commitment to help solve this case and she had to see it through.

  ‘You sure the coast is clear?’ Kitt said to Grace, who had been tasked with making sure that Michelle had left the building before any representatives from North Yorkshire Police arrived on the scene.