by Amber Boffin
“Sorry to disturb you, but Ms. Flanagan’s on the line…she found another body!”
Sergeant Humphries barked back, “What! Eh…put me through, what are you waiting for?”
Nut crumbs jetted out of his mouth at the shock of the news, sprinkling over his belly. He sat up on his chair, angrily brushing off the crumbs, one elbow on the desk holding the phone.
“Hello, this is Maggie Flanagan. I’m at the house number 22 Fairview Lane, just off Lake View Road, and I just found the realtor Fiona McLenny lying dead. I called 911 as well but thought you should be informed directly.”
Sergeant Humphries shouted, “Don’t touch anything. Wait there, keep everyone out aside from police, you hear me! I’m on my way.”
He stormed out of his office, grabbing his cap and jacket, all the while ordering Constable Gupta to come along and get the car.
*
Maggie sat down, tightly grasping her phone, a shiver rocking her shoulders as she thought about Fiona. The man in my pond and now this. How terrible. She put her hand to her mouth and said out loud, “Oh, my camera!” She jumped up and ran on the wraparound terrace of the house toward the lake, her senses heightened like an animal being hunted.Thank God it’s there.She hastily picked it up, its strap still caught on the corner of the garden table. A loud, metallic thump reverberated as the table came crashing to the floor. Maggie let out a little cry and pushed the table back, an eerie thought having crept into her mind.They might suspect me.
Her heart still pounding, she rushed back to where the body was lying next to the utility room and looked down at it in amazement, as if she had hoped it would have vanished and it was all a nightmare. She shook her head and cleared her throat, breathing heavily. She held her breath, wide-eyed, listening for human noises. It was just a branch in the wind.
She bent down toward Fiona, hoping she could do something. Still no pulse. She was dead.
Maggie stood her arms tightly crossed against her chest, a little farther away from the body, scrutinizing it. I’ve got to wait for the police, think scientifically. Like Amy would.
Calmness enveloped her as she closed her eyes, as if she had left her actor’s costume and moved into the audience to watch the scene from the outside with a clear, analytical mind. She opened them again. Fiona was still lying on her side. One of her arms lay outstretched, with the hand turned toward the sky, as if it were trying to grab hold of something.How strange, thought Maggie as she noted red marks on the tip of the outstretched fingers and an unusual stiffness in them, as if rigor mortis had already set in, judging from the angle at which the fingers were kept up.
Why was Fiona here? The house isn’t for sale. Her mind raced, trying to imagine what might have happened. Hearing the loud sirens of the police and ambulance approaching, Maggie stepped aside toward the driveway, relieved she would no longer be alone.
Only now did Maggie see it was Fiona’s car, with her larger-than-life picture on its side as she walked up the other side of it. She looked down at the tire marks, comparing them with the ones from her own car. Large footprints that appeared to head toward the road caught her attention. It surprised her, since it had rained the night before. Could they be Joe’s steps? He was wearing boots, not trainers.
Sergeant Humphries pulled over at the same time as the ambulance. He jumped out of his car in a blurred vision, surrounded by a cloud of dust like a sheriff in a Western ready to shoot, his hand on his gun, only to readjust his trousers that had the tendency to glide down, pushed by his belly. Maggie, mesmerized by the vision, stood looking at the sergeant growing in size as he approached her, gesticulating to the paramedics.
“Check if the victim is alive, quick! Maggie, did you touch anything?”
Maggie waited for a moment until the medics responded that she was dead.
“Only her pulse when I found her to see if she was alive and if I could help her,” replied Maggie calmly.
“Gupta, where’s the tape? Come on, cordon the scene, all of it, and call the homicide department. We can’t rule anything out now.”
“But last time you didn’t—”
“Last time was different, ” interrupted the sergeant. “Get on with it!”
Constable Gupta ran back to the car and dove into it, soon emerging with a large reel of tape, brandishing it as he ran back.
Sergeant Humphries walked around the body. “Yes, this time it’s murder—the wound and the murder weapon.” As he looked down at the bloodstained rock next to the victim, he continued, “They’ve even left it! We’ll see what the coroner has to say.”
He turned around and jumped back, as if he didn’t seem to expect Maggie right next to him, having followed him to the body in case he wanted to speak with her and still wondering why the victim’s hand appeared so stiff.
“What are you still doing here!” Sergeant Humphries said. “Go back to the car and wait there. You always—ahh, it could be a murder scene with all the footprints, and you’re adding yours everywhere!”
Recalling the sergeant getting out of his car and trampling over the trainer footprints Maggie had noticed a few moments ago, she thought he wasn’t any better, and he was supposed to be the professional. She wondered how many murder cases he had actually dealt with. Very few if any. She walked back to the car, all the while looking at the activity around, not wanting to miss anything.
The scene was getting busier by the minute: a white cube-like campervan arrived with white-clad forensic men and women pouring out of it. It was surprising to see how many could fit in such a van. They spread out onto the crime scene like a group of ants.
Waiting for either the sergeant or the constable to tell her what to do, she remained next to her car, analyzing the situation, now and then popping her head into her car to calm the dogs. She tried to recall her encounter with Fiona at the wedding party, hoping for an insight of any kind. She remembered her gleaming teeth and plastic smile as she distributed compliments to everyone, as if they were sweets. Fiona had been wearing a red dress that seemed to attract a lot of attention from men, one in particular…
Maggie struggled to recall who kept lacing his arm around Fiona when she looked up to the sky, and the sight of the solar panels brought it back. It was Leon LeBreton.She must have been having an affair with him, thought Maggie, playing with her curls, twisting them around her finger, a habit she had acquired as a girl when she was thinking.
Constable Gupta called out “Ma’am?” He cleared his throat loudly and tapped on Maggie’s shoulder. She jumped and turned around to face him. “Ma’am, I need to ask you a few questions before letting you go, and please don’t leave town for the moment.”
At first Maggie remained relaxed, in contrast to Constable Gupta, beads of sweat resembling a pearl necklace dripping down the side of his cap, along his thick sideburns as he struggled with his notepad and pen. The prospect of being regarded as a suspect came back to haunt Maggie now that the sergeant viewed the case as a possible murder.
She reminded herself that the more relaxed she could be, the better her communication and the more the other party would believe what she said. It also had the advantage of having a soothing effect on irritable men like the sergeant.
It had worked with one of her bosses, a scientist who had fits of rage. Instead of fearing him, she would wait patiently to discuss anything till the colour in his face died down and his voice came down. Her colleagues asked her how she did it, how he never seemed to raise his voice with her. She used to say jokingly, “I’ve had training, I’ve shared an office with such characters, and the only way to survive their fits was to remain calm and try to convey that to the person while avoiding absorbing their strong emotions.”
She perceived it was happening now with Constable Gupta, whose tone had become a bit aggressive.Perhaps he’s imitating Sergeant Humphries to hide his insecurity.
Careful to speak slowly and articulating every word to make sure he would correctly take note, she said, “I forgot my camera
on the deck of the house. I only noticed after I’d been to the lodge to see the Millers so I came back to pick it up, when I found Fiona.” Seeing the constable lift his eyes from his notepad, Maggie added, “I was here in the morning with Joe Johnson, viewing his installation work. We had an appointment, we were alone then.”
A bead of sweat was now teetering on the tip of the constable’s nose, and Maggie wondered when it would fall when the Sergeant Humphries call, “Gupta! Over here!”
Maggie was relieved that the constable had forgotten to ask her about her camera, or any other question that might make her look suspicious, before he ran toward Sergeant Humphries, who was speaking with the team of forensics. Adam was right; the constable still needed training. Sensing the tension in the air, she hastily took her leave, making sure she had the constable’s approval.
As Maggie climbed into her car, she heard an engine noise behind her and a shuffling sound. She turned her head and was faced with a camera pointed toward her. Before she could say anything, the window had closed, and only once the car had passed her to park did she realize it was Tina.
Maggie was about to intercept Tina, but then she wondered what she would tell her. Asking her to delete the photo would only make her suspicious. Maggie turned back on her heels, jumped back into her car, and sped off, hitting the steering wheel with one hand and cursing Tina. The dogs hid as best they could, flat as pancakes on the back seat.
Maggie felt the need to share what had happened with someone before they might consider her a suspect. She didn’t want to involve Amy yet. Denis was a good listener and level-headed and was very good at keeping secrets. But the vision of Tina’s grin from behind the camera cast a dark shadow over his prospect as a confidant.
She sat in her car, parked in her own driveway, her two dogs sniffing at her and licking her hands. She felt her emotions creeping up; she couldn’t fathom who would want to kill Fiona. She could imagine people getting irritated by her sales approach and marketing attempts, but that was certainly not a cause for murder. Looking down into Carrot’s soft eyes, she thought of Adam and their talks. She liked his openness. He had told her she could speak with him whenever she wanted; he was, after all, already part of the first murder story. If Fiona’s death had something to do with it, he would be the one to talk to. With the engine of her car still running, she put it into gear and drove away in search of his cheerful face weathered by the years spent outdoors.
Chapter Thirteen
The news of the suspected murder spread like wildfire across Foxton. All households were feverishly debating who did it. Joe, who had received a call from Constable Gupta to report to the police station later that day, was now submitted to Heather’s dread. She expressed it with anger and jealousy.
“I knew it, you were with Fiona. I hate you. Did you love her?”
“Honey, no, how can you think that. I love you!”
“Why would you’ve been to the house then? It was to meet her. I’m sure. I don’t want to speak with a murderer!”
“I promised Leon to keep quiet, but he was Fiona’s lover, not me. Don’t you see, he can’t be trusted, but you can trust me! Please…”
“Now you’re using your friend, that’s horrible! Covering up your mess!”
“Heather, no, please believe me, I was at the house in the morning yes, with Maggie…”
Heather interrupted, stamping her foot on the floor, “And now it’s Maggie. I can’t bear listening to you.” She covered her ears with her hands and turned her back to him.
Joe approached her from behind, putting his hands on her shoulders, attempting to calm her. “Heather, sweetie, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Leon and Fiona. I couldn’t have killed her. I wasn’t there at lunchtime, and that’s when they say it happened. I was only at the house with Maggie in the early morning.”
Heather turned around with the speed of a tornado. “What were you doing with Maggie then? The new girl in town, is that it?”
“No, remember, you told her about viewing the house, not me, that it’d be a good idea to see my work. It was only business.”
Joe held her hands tight, trying to pass over his feeling of love, desperate for her to believe him. He searched her eyes for any sign of trust.
With tears running down her cheek, Heather asked, “Why didn’t you come back for lunch then? Where were you?”
Joe was bewildered by her doubts. Releasing his grasp and dropping his hands as if they weighed suddenly a ton, he replied, “I picked up pipes at the hardware store, and on the way stopped for a sandwich because I was running late for my next appointment.”
He often did that, so he didn’t see how that would have been out of character for him and why his wife would suddenly have expected him for lunch, unless it was a wedding anniversary or birthday. He quickly looked at his phone to check his calendar, knowing he typically forgot these dates.
Stamping her foot again, Heather cried out, “I don’t believe you! Were you having an affair with Fiona or not? Now tell me the truth. I’ve asked you once, this is the last time I’ll ask and then… Listen to me! I’m talking to you!” He was still looking down at his phone, her words slowly entering his brain. Having been subjected to such fits before, he knew it usually blew over and she calmed down on her own. She added, “I knew it, you’re avoiding my look, so it must be true!”
She stormed out of the room, leaving him standing in the middle, his jaw pulled down in amazement as he mumbled, “No honey, you know me…I love you…” She had already left the room when his words came out, slamming the door behind her.
Ever since they had their first child, Heather was afraid that Joe would have an affair. From then on, she had been keeping a close eye on him, checking his pockets, looking over his shoulder at his emails, even when he had surprised her in the act and made her promise not to snoop if she loved him.
A cloud drifted through Joe’s mind.Could she have done it out of jealousy… No, she’s not capable of murder.He wasn’t thinking straight.
Joe felt a pang to his heart; he loved his wife and knew he would have to fight hard to get the idea of an affair with Fiona out of her mind this time. It struck him that it was more than that; if he didn’t succeed, he might be seen as a suspect in the murder. He looked for her around the house, but she was nowhere to be found.
He panicked and thought of Leon.He has to come clean! I’ll get him to tell Heather about Fiona.The thought spurred him into his car to find Leon. As he approached Leon’s house, knowing he usually did his paperwork at home in the afternoon, Joe was surprised his white van wasn’t there.
He sped off, a cloud of dust billowing behind his rear wheels, thinking he might find him at the marina. Leon always liked sitting in his boat and soaking up the sun to top up his tan, whatever the temperature. He was always the first to put his boat out in spring. Sure enough, there he was sitting in his boat, staring at the lake.
At the sight of Leon hunched over and staring at the water with a drawn face, Joe concluded he must already know about Fiona.
“Leon, I’m so sorry about Fiona.”
“What do you mean?” Leon looked up at Joe.
“You don’t know?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“She’s dead, murdered.”
“What! It’s not true, you must be mistaken.”
Leon stood up, nearly capsizing the boat, if it were not for Joe grabbing his arm to steady him. Joe pulled him up onto the pier.
They both stood in silence for a moment until Joe broke it with a sigh. “No, it’s true, it’s hard for you I know, but…” His voice rose with fear as he added, “Heather thinks I killed Fiona because she is convinced I was her lover. You have to get me out of this and tell Heather you were her lover, not me!”
Joe held tightly on to Leon’s right wrist. Leon freed himself, taking a step back.
His face grew pale, contrasting with his jet-black hair. “But then they’ll think I did it!”
> Joe tried to control his emotions, speaking slowly. “If you didn’t do it, you have nothing to fear. You don’t have a suspicious Heather to deal with….”
Leon looked Joe in the eyes. Joe could see fear but also anger as Leon said, “If you were my friend, as you claim to be, then you’d understand I’ve got to keep quiet.”
Joe felt anger bubble up in him. He clenched his fists and looked away at the lake. Seeing a cottage like Mr. Bern’s on the other side of it, he remembered a crucial piece of information.
“Leon, weren’t you going to Bern’s house at lunch to finish off the solar installation?”
“Yes…so?”
The idea that Leon might have killed Fiona suddenly over-whelmed Joe as he grabbed him by the shirt collar and said, “You bastard, you did it!”
Not wanting to hear one more word from Leon, Joe stormed away, inadvertently pushing Leon into the water. Blinded by his anger and running toward his car, Joe had ignored the splashing sound. He was too focused on finding Heather before she would talk to anyone.
Chapter Fourteen
Maggie waited for Adam’s return, picking a comfortable spot in the yard while keeping an eye on the dogs circling around his llamas. She enjoyed basking in the sun, her back against a tree trunk, half daydreaming, half thinking. Problems always seemed to disappear, replaced by obvious solutions only a natural setting could foster. She wondered what linked the guests at the Christmas party. What were the real feelings under the cover of the public display of amiability at such a gathering? Who had a close tie to Peter Wigmott, a real politician, changing like a chameleon according to the crowd he wanted to woo? Fiona was similar in that respect, always smiling, appearing to like everyone. Likewise, the new mayor seemed to have many facets, pretending not to have known Peter Wigmott while the rumour ran contrary.