by Emily Selby
'Yes. I've recently moved houses and didn't want to drag all that across town, risking losing or breaking things. I'd brought it to the club instead. Oh, is this the caddy?'
'Yes.'
'It's beautiful,' Katie cooed.
The box itself wasn't particularly special, but Vera had managed to make some of the paper decorations and the lid was partially covered with beautiful, intricate swirls.
'Are you following a design or is it all just off the top of your head?'
Vera laughed, clearly feeling more relaxed. 'Off the top of my crazy head? No! I've got a model.' She took a piece of paper and laid it on the table. 'Designed it myself, based on a tea caddy I saw in the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. These were made in the 19th century. I wanted to recreate that spirit, but I also wanted it to be different, unique.'
Katie traced the intricate swirls and flower petals on the paper with her fingertips. The design was created in pencil, but the colours smudged in pastel, mostly shades of pink, purple, and olive green.
'The colours work really well together.'
'Thanks. The colours are key here. Most tea caddies and other 19th century quilled stuff I've seen are dark and monochrome. Quite grim. I guess, it's the problem with paper ageing. Dirt and sunlight damages it. I wanted my caddy to be happy-looking.'
'And it is happy-looking.'
'Thanks.' Vera beamed. 'Look, this is the lid, and here is the design for the sides. These two will alternate.'
A clear note of pride filled Vera's voice.
'These are really lovely. Well done, Vera. You're very talented' Katie smiled, and Vera smiled back. Her beautiful face looked relaxed.
'Thank you. I've always had a bit of a thing for arts and crafts.'
'Have you ever pursued it?'
A pang of pain flinched through Vera's face.
'Yes and no. I wanted to do an art degree but didn't have enough technical skill. I took some lessons to improve it, but'—she paused and looked away—'I couldn't afford it. And then life just took over.'
An uncomfortable silence followed. Katie swallowed her comment about Vera’s father being the richest man in Sunnyvale who should have been able to afford the university fees. This wasn't the time or place for it.
'That's a shame,' she said instead. 'What about some of those free or cheap community college classes? Have you tried them? Or were they just not at the right level?'
'I have taken a few, but as you say, they are often geared towards a different audience. Little old ladies or middle-aged women with an empty nest syndrome who don't know what to do with their time.' She laughed, and Katie flinched as she detected a note of contempt in Vera's voice.
'Don't get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with that, it's just that they want more social interaction than to learn craft. You know, those places; all chit-chat no real work.'
'It can get like that here, sometimes,' Katie disclosed, 'but we have a really good core group who want to just get on with work.' Katie rushed to reassure Vera. 'What do you want to do here? Are you planning these flowers to be flat?' She pointed to the large flower design in the middle of one of the sides.
'No. These are the tricky ones. I wanted them to be in 3D.'
Katie studied the design, struggling to see what Vera meant. 'I'm not quite sure how you want it done, to be honest.' Quilled elements were all three-dimensional, but since most of them were glued to a surface, such as greeting cards, or pictures, they could be considered flat. However, certain techniques allowed the crafter to create particular elements that could stand by themselves, like flower vases complete with flowers, little people, or even—Katie's favourite—miniature chocolates. Typically, flowers prepared using the second method were closed, like roses or tulips, or in buds. But the ones on Vera's picture had wide, open petals.
'You want those petals to be quilled separately?'
'No. I want them to look like that.' Vera dragged her phone out of her pocket. 'Look.'
Katie leant over the photo. 'It looks like a single piece of paper, but these petals are layered. Definitely. And glued one layer onto the other.'
'I'm not sure how to create those layers and how to fix them together so the petals stand up and don't drop.'
'Ah, that is a problem,' Katie nodded. 'What about acrylic spray or nail polish?'
'It'll wet the paper. The paper is quite thin.'
'Did you ask Phyllis Dunbar about it?' Katie asked, trying to sound as casual as she could.
'I was going to, but we didn't reach that far. It was a quick visit. I hoped I could come back and ask some more questions later, but that’s not an option anymore.' Vera gave a short laugh.
Katie cringed. Laughing at someone's death? Bad manners.
'Sadly,' Katie sighed. 'What about other people? Linda is pretty good.'
'I wouldn't go to Linda. She's such a gossip, and she used to be my teacher.'
'Why did you go to Phyllis then?'
'I told you, and I told the police. Someone must have recommended her to me at the club. Or maybe I just saw her quilling at the club.'
Katie nodded empathically, knowing full well that she herself, hadn't seen Phyllis quilling at the club in the past year or so. She might have talked about it, but only to lament her arthritis-ridden hands. Otherwise, she would have planted herself by Phyllis' side to learn all the old tricks. Besides, they didn't do much paper crafts over summer - it was too hot, and the hall didn't have proper ventilation. Paper crafts and open windows don't go together very well.
Why was Vera lying?
'Did she show you any tricks?'
Vera exhaled loudly. 'It was a bit like pulling teeth with her. She told me how she would do it, but she couldn't quite show me how to do it. To be honest, I wondered if she really knew, or just wanted to impress me.'
'I'm sure she really knew,' Katie protested, feeling loyalty to her former employer. 'Mrs Dunbar was good at arts and crafts.'
'Oh, come on. I know that one should never speak ill of the dead, but she wasn't all that super-duper. I mean, she might have been in the past, but these days... She was trying to punch above her weight.''
'OK, I can see your point, but that’s no reason to kill her.'
'Whoa, there!' The irritation in Vera's voice made Katie step back. 'I've never said this was the reason she was killed!'
Katie crossed her arms and immediately uncrossed them. She didn’t want to start an argument. 'I never said that. But, since we're at it,' Katie said, carefully monitoring her voice and body language, 'why do you think she was killed? Do you have any ideas?'
'Do you?"
'I wonder if she got under someone's skin a little too much. She was a good woman, but if she got onto someone, she was like a dog with a bone. She never stopped bugging you until she got what she wanted.'
Vera ignored Katie’s comments. She was looking at a picture on her phone.
Katie sighed quietly. She might have overdone her attempts at a gentle inquisition. She needed to be less judgmental and more inquiring. Otherwise people just shut up.
'Did you find any instructions on the Internet on how to make the petals stand up?'
'No, not really. I wonder if they're made from special paper rigid enough to hold by itself. I'd probably have to experiment. Where would I get that special paper? Is there a craft shop in town?'
'Unfortunately, no. I buy my supplies on the Internet, from China. Aliexpress is good. There is a lot of choice, even too much. It's cheap, but you really have to wait. Sometimes, weeks!'
'I wondered about opening a craft shop,' Vera said.
Katie clapped her hands. 'This is a great idea! With your talent, you could be quite successful.'
'Vera laughed. 'I may have an artistic flair, but business side of things - well, that would be a challenge.'
'How do you know? Have you done anything already?'
'I tried helping a friend run an artistic cafe in London, but it was a disaster. We went bust quite quickly. I l
ost a small fortune.' She laughed, but this time it was a nervous laugh. 'I'm actually trying to "settle".' She made the quote sign with her fingers. 'I've gone back to college, doing nursing but honestly, it's not going too well. They probably think I'm too old for nursing. Or maybe just not made for the caring professions. My heart has always been in art, but that's obviously, not a proper job. What about you? You seem to have a talent, really good hands? I saw your birthday cards the other day at the club - they were beautiful. Do you sell them?'
Katie felt her cheeks going red.
'Thank you. Yes, people like my cards, but this is not a viable way of supporting your family. It would be lovely to just do what one loves doing, but being a single mum with a girl who's growing up so fast and has all the usual needs isn’t easy.'
'I don't know, I've never had kids.'
'I'm sorry.'
'Not a problem. Never wanted any. I would be a horrible mother, just like mine. Having said that, I wasn't a model daughter either. Imagine having a daughter who runs away at fifteen to join the circus.'
Oh, here comes the runaway story, Katie thought and jumped on it.
'Did you really?'
'Yeah. I had some fun with them. I've learnt a lot of things. I can still do a backflip and stand on my hands.' She laughed. 'It's been a challenge to keep the fitness level up, but I wasn't really into performing arts. I wanted to paint, sculpt, create things with my hands.'
'It's sad when people can't follow their passions.'
'It's even worse when you can't do it because you have other people stopping you.'
'Interesting, this is the second time I heard a comment like that today.'
Vera shot her a look. 'Really? Who was the first person?'
'Roy Dunbar. He was working in the garden when... when it happened.' Katie watched Vera's face intently.
'Ah, Roy. Nice guy.' A warm smile brightened her face. 'He's a pretty good singer. Did you hear him?'
'Yes. I never realised he was so good. Some people don't like showing their talents, do they?'
'True. He sings and plays acoustic guitar. It's an interesting mix of Celtic music and rock. Apparently, he's planning to release a proper album. But, as with most artists, he's skint! I know the type. Met too many of them in my life. They are all talented and promising and they tell you one day they will make headlines and mountains of money, but you wait, and you wait, and that day never comes.'
'How do you know he wants to release an album?'
'He told me. I popped in to say hello on my way out of the house. We chatted for a couple of minute.'
Ah, so this is how the police confirmed Vera and Roy's alibis.
'Anyhow, Katie. It's been nice talking with you, but it looks like we won't get much done today,' Vera said, putting her caddy back into the box.
'Sorry, I couldn't help,' Katie said apologetically, 'but at least I know now what you're after. I'll keep thinking and looking on the Internet. Hopefully, together, we'll be able to find a solution to your petals problem.'
'Thanks. That's very kind of you. I think I may have another look at other old caddies on the Net. Or pop into the main library next time I'm in Carlisle.'
'That's a great idea.'
Vera closed the box. 'Got to go. Work won't wait.'
'Do you want me to let you know if I find anything?'
'Oh yes, please.'
'Can I have your phone number?' Katie asked, thinking it would be handy to meet up again or get some more information in any other way.
'Of course.' Vera recited the number and Katie punched it into her phone. 'Send me a text if you find something. Really got to go now. Cheers!'
She wrapped her scarf tight around her petite silhouette and left.
Not much information, Katie thought, going over the brief session. But hopefully useful. Between her chat with Roy, Vera and the little plan she’d made with Michelle, she had plenty to share with DI Heaton in the morning.
11
The only downside of Julia spending the afternoon and most of the evening at her friend's house was that she came back too excited. Even after Katie had listened to reports of how the rehearsal for the audition went, Julia was still full of energy, and Katie could hear her wriggling in her bed. The fact that the bed was squeaky only made matters worse. After a few more trips to the bathroom and the kitchen, the house fell quiet. Katie could go to bed herself.
The morning was even harder. Because a tired ten-year-old was a grumpy and forgetful ten-year-old. The grumpiness made the forgetfulness worse to tolerate, and after the third grunt in response to her morning check questions, Katie gave up. She poured all her energy into getting Julia to school earlier to give herself more time to put her crazy plan into operation. The plan involved driving to the other end of town and 'accidentally' meeting Mrs Lee, by hanging around the teachers' entrance with Michelle.
Once Julia's drop-off was accomplished, Katie rushed to Michelle's school and parked by the teachers' entrance. Michelle was already there, chatting to a petite woman with a neat black haircut.
'Hello, Mrs Lee. Love the haircut.' Katie couldn't help but praise her friend's work.
Mrs Lee beamed. 'I know. Michelle is really an excellent hairdresser. She knows how to handle my type of hair.'
'She’s really great, our Michelle.'
Michelle giggled. Katie nudged her, but Michelle just looked at her blankly. Katie picked courage to present her request.
'Mrs Lee. I'm sorry to bother you, but I understand that you may have some information of great relevance to a police investigation.'
Mrs Lee blinked.
Katie felt her cheeks flushing.
'I work at the police station.' Well, that part was true. 'And I'm involved in an investigation of Mrs Dunbar's death.' More truth. 'I understand you have some information on the recent interaction among the council members, including the deceased that can be helpful in the case.'
Katie congratulated herself on the use of 'deceased'. It sounded professional. She should really watch more police dramas to pick up the correct lingo.
'I'm not sure,' Mrs Lee appeared uncomfortable. 'This is all confidential information. I don't really want to...'
'No, no, you don't have to tell me anything,' Katie rushed. 'I wondered if you'd agree to talk to the inspector in charge of the case, Detective Inspector Jack Heaton. I'll be there as well. He'll explain everything.' Katie finished, not really comfortable making anything up.
Mrs Lee checked her wristwatch discreetly.
'When and where would that be?'
'Any time that suits you, ideally as soon as possible. During working hours, of course. At the police station, on the Main Street, behind the butcher's shop.'
'Yes, I know where the police station is. Could it be today at lunchtime? I have a free slot just after and was planning to go to town anyway.'
'Yes, I'm certain we can arrange that,' Katie said trying to sound reassuring, although she didn't have a clue about the DI’s schedule. 'Can I have your phone number to confirm?'
Mrs Lee gave her the number.
'Just leave a message if I don't answer.'
Katie thanked Mrs Lee profusely.
'Are you really involved in this investigation?' Michelle asked her on the way to their cars.
'Looks like it.'
'What's he like?'
'Who?' Katie looked at her friend confused.
'The inspector of course! Is he old, grim and cynical, like they show on those Scandinavian dramas these days?'
Katie laughed. She tried to make it sound carefree and relaxed, but it came out more forced. 'No, not like that. He's actually quite nice. And young.'
'Nice and young and... single?' Michelle was an eternal romantic. Happily married with two kids, she was always making sure her friends, acquaintances and even—or maybe particularly—her clients were also happily coupled.
'That I don't know.' Katie shrugged. 'Why would that matter?'
'Just asking. Sorry
. You'd better go. I guess you need to discuss the timing of the meeting with Mrs Lee with your nice and young, and maybe single inspector.' Michele flicked her golden curls back and winked. She gave Katie a big hug and they parted.
On her way to her car, Katie tried to shake of the discomfort Michelle's last words left her in. DI Heaton didn't wear a wedding ring, not that she had noticed. But whether or not he was married, she didn't know. And she tried to force herself to think it didn't matter.
Katie turned up at work only a minute later than usual and it seemed as though everyone noticed it. They were all there, including the boss. This was an unusual sight. Inspector Andy Lumley stood in his office doorway, holding a cup of coffee. She blushed right to the roots of her already reddish hair.
'Hi Katie, been worrying about you,' he greeted her, in his usual laconic style. 'Everything's okay?'
This bout of attention was actually a nice distraction to the real reason for her blushing. DI Heaton was also there, standing in the middle of the staff room, looking at her. He’d chosen a powder-blue shirt with his usual steel-blue suit, but no tie today. No doubt, a casual Friday look.
'Oh, the school run took a bit longer than usual. Thank you for thinking about me. I'm fine. I need to confirm if Inspector Heaton is available to talk to Mrs Lee this lunchtime,' she said hastily, not looking at the said Inspector Heaton.
'I am. Thank you for organising it.'
'No problem, sir.'
She rushed into her office, without stopping for her usual cup of tea. She needed time to calm down and for her face to return to its normal colour. She didn't enjoy being in the spotlight.
She dropped her handbag on the chair, booted up her computer and left a confirmation message on Mrs Lee's phone. Once she disconnected, there was a knock on the door.
'Yes?'
'It's me, Jack.'
Even his voice sounded less formal today, which was bad, because she really liked it. 'Can I come in, or do you need more time to settle?'
'Yes, come in, Inspector.'
He winced. 'You can call me Jack, since we talk so much,' he said smoothly.
If her cheeks weren't burning yet, by now they would be. 'Thank you, Jack. How can I help?' she added automatically.