by Emily Selby
'Okay, so it's a woman. That's great. Do you know her taste in colours?'
'Oh, sweetie, how would I know?'
'What colours does she tend to wear?'
'I don't pay attention to other people’s clothes. That would be rude. Of course, except Sofia she has a great sense of style. I always admire how beautifully she can put everything together. My beautiful girl. My beautiful, smart girl.'
Katie held her breath. She counted to five. She looked up and followed Mrs Parker's gaze as she lovingly watching her daughter potter around with some of the elements of the polishing machine.
'Yes, I've noticed,' Katie said reluctantly. She wanted this painful conversation over. 'Sofia also has beautiful jewellery.'
'She takes after her grandfather. My late father was a jewellery maker. A real artist.'
Katie gulped again. She looked around trying to put all her desperation onto her face, hoping one of her fellow Club members would come to the rescue. Miriam was already chatting to someone else, maybe even deliberately avoiding looking at Katie. And Katie suspected why.
'How about you ask your physiotherapist about her favourite colour?' Katie said suddenly finding a solution to her predicament.
'That's a great idea!' Mrs Parker clapped. 'What else do you suggest I do?'
A thought flashed through her mind.
'Have you seen any card decoration technique you liked?'
'Oh, oh! So many. It's hard to decide!'
Katie flexed her fingers. Maybe she could get something useful out of this encounter after all. 'What I find works well on cards is lettering, or calligraphy. Do you know what I mean? Have you seen anyone do it? Maybe here, in the club?'
'Yes, yes! I think I've seen someone do it. It was so pretty.'
Aha! Was she on the right trail?
'Here, in the club?'
'Yes, yes! That was when we first came here, in May. A girl was making a card for her mother. She was doing swirly letters. But I don't think I could do it with my hands...'
Katie's heart was pumping fast. 'Oh, do you remember what she used for writing?' she cut in, ignoring the older woman's health comment.
'Some sort of old fashion pen.'
'Black maybe?'
'I don't really know, pet...' The whiny tone crept into Mrs Parker's voice again. 'Does it matter?'
'I thought I could find the tool for you and show you how to use it. It may not be as hard as you think... and the results can be really stunning,' Katie replied, scanning the room. Who could it have been?
'That'd be lovely,' Mrs Parker replied, sounding confused.
Katie forced herself to look at the woman again. 'Do you remember who it was? Is she here?'
'No, don't think so.'
This was getting more and more interesting. All the core members were in the room, and the infrequent visitors were less likely to have their own craft tools. Did this secret person use Katie's pen? Hang on, did she say it was May? A Mother's Day card in May? It didn't make sense...
'Never mind, I can try to find a pen for you. That black one unfortunately is missing and might not be appropriate for your hands. Or, maybe we'll think about materials.' Katie paused and corrected herself. 'Maybe you will think about the materials.'
'That's very sweet of you. But I need to think about my hands...'
'Absolutely, you need to choose materials you can work with without too much trouble, Mrs Parker,' Katie said, standing up. 'I'll look for some samples.' She walked towards the shelf with supplies, trying not to run.
'How is my mother doing? Sofia asked Katie as she was going through the boxful of paper materials.
'We’re trying to work on a thank you card for her physiotherapist,' Katie said trying to sound casual about it. 'How are you doing? Have you found anything interesting besides the machine?'
'Not really. But this machine is great.'
'Dorothy Ravencroft, the one who lives next door to you, she often uses pressed flowers. She's done a lot of pictures with them. Maybe you two could do something together?'
Sofia flinched.
'I'm not interested in pressed flowers. I don't have time for anything besides this one project I'm working on. I've got a busy job.'
'I've heard you're working in a pharmacy.'
'I'm the senior pharmacist in the hospital,' Sofia said with the emphasis on senior.
'That's great,' Katie said with more enthusiasm than she felt. On the other hand, Sofia did seem to have a lot of patience and tenderness for her sick mother. Maybe she used up all the supply of nice traits at work and on her mother, leaving not much for anyone else. 'Are you our new pharmacist?'
'Not so new. I've been here since May. I'm covering for someone on maternity leave. But they're already talking about employing me full-time. With my skills and experience in addictions obviously I could help a lot, but one only has so much time in one's life.'
Katie curled her toes. Cake, she needed cake and now! Her self-control needed a sweet booster and pronto if she was to remain calm and polite. On the other hand, the drama of the evening had helped keep her mind off all the problems awaiting her at home. She ordered herself to breath in and out, steadily.
'Of course. You're right,' Katie said once her breath was under control again. 'We only have one life.' With this thought in mind, Katie walked away. She put the box with sample paper supplies beside Mrs Parker.
'Have a look and feel for yourself, Mrs Parker,' Katie said calmly. 'Just choose things that may work for you. Take your time,' she added striding away. After all, she only had one life too, and she deserved moments of peace, quiet and little pleasures.
12
The following morning, Katie arrived early at the police station. She might have slept a little better last night, or maybe she had fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion, trying not to think about beautiful jewellery makers with superiority complexes and their ill, indecisive mothers. At least dropping Dorothy off had been fun. And Dorothy invited her round for " a cup of tea or dinner, whichever you prefer, my dear". So, there was something to look forward to.
On the way to the staff room, she was surprised to see a familiar male figure, dressed in a long dark coat, drumming his fingers on the reception counter.
'Anybody there?' the man shouted when he saw her.
Reluctantly, Katie stepped into the reception area. 'Morning, Mr Bower. Are you waiting for anyone?'
'Anyone? Is anyone even in? All the Sunnyvale police force is still in bed! This town is brimming with crime,' he exploded, slamming him hands flat on the counter. Red blotches appeared on his face.
Oh-ho! It was the second time this week she’d seen him angry and rude to other people. That was unusual. Michael Bower was normally one of those 'stiff upper lip' types who didn't "do" emotional displays.
'I'm sorry, Mr Bower. We're not fully staffed until 8.30. Maybe I can help you?' Katie offered.
'I want to talk to Chris Fox,' he demanded, watching her carefully.
'He's on the afternoon shift. I can take a message for him.'
'Then, I want to talk to the chief officer.'
'Inspector Lumley will be here around nine,' Katie said as calmly as she could. She leant on the counter. 'I'm sure you have important things to attend to. Let me take a message and someone will get back to you as soon as possible.'
Michael Bower glanced at his watch.
'Yeah. I've got an important meeting with a client in ten minutes. I can't wait here forever. I wanted to report that someone broke into my office in the night.'
'Have you rung the-'
'No,' he interrupted. I don't want to talk to any morons. I want either Chris or the boss.'
'Can it wait until one of them arrives?' Katie asked calmly. She'd prefer to get it right. The last thing she wanted was Michael Bower exploding at the reception, as he did in Willow Park the other day.
Michael Bower swore. That was another unusual thing. Surprisingly, his face looked quite blank. As though he’d run o
ut of things to be angry about.
'What I can do, is to take your phone number and get the duty officer to give you a call as soon as he or she is available. How's that?' Katie offered what seemed to her the most logical solution.
Michael glanced at her, his face still blank, but his jaw tensed.
'All right,' he sighed. 'I'll give you my number.' He pulled his mobile phone from his coat pocket. 'Do you have something to write with?'
Katie grabbed a pen and a notepad from the desk. She glanced at the phone - a wooden case, engraved with an etching of a bird and the logo of Game of Thrones.
'Ready!' she said and noted the number as Michael dictated it.
'Very interesting phone case, I must say.' She couldn't help herself. Until last night, and Sofia's jewellery-like case, Katie never thought that phone cases could be anything other than robust and practical.
A smile crossed Michael's face. 'It's a present from my youngest. I'm a fan of Game of Thrones,' he said and flipped the phone to show off the back.
'Beautiful. Is it good as a protection? I drop my phone so often.'
'I hope. The crack on the screen,' Michael pointed to a crack in the top left corner, 'is from before the case. That's why my boy thought of getting me a new one.'
'Great present.' Katie smiled. 'I'm sorry about the break-in and the lack of staff at the moment. I'll pass on your message.'
'Thank you.' Michael said still with a shadow of a smile on his face. He strode out of the station.
Strange. He calmed down quickly. Fortunately!
Kate entered the staff room. At the same time, Celia walked in through the other door.
'Hey, Celia. There’s a message for you.' She handed the note to Celia, who glanced at it and put it on the duty desk.
'A burglary? Another one,' she muttered. 'I hope this doesn't come with a dead body.'
'Just don't take me with you,' Katie chimed in.
'Why?' Celia asked before the hidden message sank in. 'Sorry, Katie. Didn't get your humour. How are you today?'
'Probably getting used to it all,' Katie replied tensing. 'It would help if I could go home. Any news on that front?'
'I'll have to check with Inspector Lumley or Heaton.'
'What about that other murder? Have you identified the body or found the killer?'
'Now, that's interesting!' Celia clasped her hands. 'The forensics team found a piece of a photo on him. Very difficult to see anything due to water damage, but it looks like one of those puzzle boxes you and Chris were talking about a couple of weeks ago.'
Katie opened her eyes wide. 'Puzzle boxes? Like the one we found in my workshop?'
'I can't remember that very well but have a look for yourself.' Celia pulled up a file on her computer. 'This is what it looks like.'
Katie stared at the screen. The quality of the image was poor, with the colours washed out, and a large part of the photo missing.
'Do you recognise it?'
Katie studied the image for a few seconds. There was something familiar about it, and it wasn't the pattern on the box. It was probably more the angle at which it was made. Or maybe the way it was photographed? No–drawn, this was drawn. This was a photo of a drawing, not a real box, and she knew where she'd seen it before. Katie chewed on her lip.
'Chris may be a good person to ask. Or even better, Roy Dunbar. Roy received an email about this box a few weeks ago. The email included a photo of a drawing. I think this is the original photo of that drawing.'
'Are you sure?'
'No, I'm not, but...' Katie paused to process the sudden connection that popped in her mind. 'The guy who sent the email to Roy stopped responding a couple of weeks ago. You need to check it with Roy. Yes, there was a name there, and some letters. We thought he might have been a doctor.'
Celia's eyes glowed with enthusiasm. 'You're a genius, Katie. I'll give him a call right now.'
A minute later, Celia put the phone down, and looked at Katie who was waiting for the kettle to boil.
'Roy is forwarding me the email. Luckily, he hasn't deleted it. He read it off. The guy's name is Bart Barrington.'
'Check the list of missing persons?' Katie offered.
'Great idea!' Celia jumped to her feet and attacked the pile of current documents.
'Do you mind saying it to Inspector Lumley or Mr Big City Smarty-Pants',' she muttered under her breath.
'Sorry Katie? Did you say something?'
Katie sighed. 'Nothing important.'
Celia shrugged and busied herself looking for the missing person's list.
'Found it!' she said, waving the piece of paper with a list of names. 'We're really don't appreciate your skills. You know so much, we should be using you more. I mean and paying you more,' she added with a grin.
'Thank you for your appreciation, Officer Baxter. Would you like some coffee?'
'And you make coffee, too. How perfect!' Celia laughed and accepted a steaming cup from Katie.
Quietly, Katie was hoping Celia would share some of the information with her. The more Katie knew, the better she could support her theories and hopefully, the easier it would be to talk to Jack. And solve one or two horrid crimes in the process.
'No. There is no Bart Barrington on the list,' Celia said, disappointed. Her email pinged.
'That's probably from Roy,' she said and rushed to her desktop.
'Hey, it does look like the photo we've got from the forensic team, considering the water damage. I'd better look that person up. If he is a doctor, I should be able to locate him quickly enough.'
'Yeah, Google's your friend.' Katie smiled and sipped her coffee. Was the mysterious fan of William Dunbar's Japanese puzzle boxes the body from the stream? And since the box had originally contained the ring stolen from Katie's flat, did it mean the two murders were connected?
'Got him!' Celia shouted. 'I'm calling the clinic.'
Even before Celia finished her quick conversation with the person Katie assumed to be a receptionist, Katie knew Dr Barrington was alive and kicking.
'False trail?' Katie asked when Celia glanced at her.
Celia covered the receiver with her hand. 'Apparently, but this makes me wonder if he really was looking for that box.'
'Are you going to check?'
'Waiting to be transferred to him.'
Katie tightened the grip on her mug. This was becoming interesting. She sipped on her coffee, her heart racing, listening to Celia's conversation and wondering if she'd be able to chat with Celia before anyone else walked into the office. She could guess from Celia's questions and summaries that this was not as simple as it initially looked, but she waited for Celia to finish the call.
'Not him then?' Katie asked as soon as Celia put the phone down.
Celia shook her head.
'Definitely not. Someone must have set up the email address to pretend to be him. It's so easy these days, nobody checks your ID. But, interestingly, our doctor had spoken to someone about the box. He said a man contacted him to ask about it a few months ago. They didn’t discuss the contents, but our doctor admits he expected the ring to be inside. It was a bit of a family heirloom, apparently. He didn't remember the man’s name, but thinks it was Andy or Ashley. Might have used a false name, of course.'
'Having said that, the doc may be lying. He might have used the body number two and Zac to steal the ring, and then killed them both,' Katie suggested.
Celia looked at her. 'That's a neat theory. We'd need to check the doc's alibi for the day of the murder. If we could only know the exact date when the second body was strangled.'
'Strangled?'
'Yes, according to the pathologist.'
'The other option is that this Andy or Ashley person, set up an email account to pretend to be the doctor. And then he got together with some nasty criminals, who stole the ring and killed Zac and then him.'
'You've got a very creative mind, Katie,' Celia observed.
'Thanks! But I'm rubbish at supporting my
crazy theories with evidence,' Katie said bitterly. She still remembered Jack Heaton's comments about this.
'Let's have a look if there’s an Andy or Ashley on the list,' Celia said and grabbed the sheet of paper again. She muttered to herself reading through the names again.
'There are two Ashleys and three Andrews, some of them are too young, so I can cross them off. I'll check the others though.'
The clock struck nine and it was time to get on with her own job. The deadline was looming. She poured herself another coffee.
'Celia, don't forget about Michel Bower's break-in. He'll be fuming if no one attends to it.'
'Getting onto it right now, sir.' Celia clicked her heels and grabbed the note Katie gave her earlier.
Katie went to her office, determined to reduce the pile on her desk by at least half before the end of her shift. She got to work.
By the time of her usual mid-morning break, the pile was visibly smaller. Katie felt quite pleased and rewarded herself with a cup of tea.
The staff room was quiet and empty. While waiting for the kettle to boil she roamed the room. Celia must have gone out, probably to see to Michael's office. Inspector Lumley wasn't in yet or was already out. Where was Jack? Was he even coming in today? And why did it matter to her?
The fax machine clicked and spat out a sheet of paper addressed to DI Heaton. Katie picked it up and walked to his cubbyhole, but she couldn't help herself glancing at the message before posting it.
The message was short. It was confirmed that the body found in the stream might have belonged to a certain individual from Midlands—Ashley Stanley.
So, this was their body number two. But what was he doing in Sunnyvale, and was there a connection to the missing ring?
Katie returned to her office keen to get on with the remaining work. The peace and quiet didn't last long.
'You must be joking! This is not possible! This has been planted!'
Katie jumped in her chair at the sound of Chris' raised voice. Chris never got angry. Who was he arguing with? She listened, holding her breath.
'Listen Chris, I'm only doing my job.'
Celia? Chris arguing with Celia? Over what?