Her head retreated back so far it merged with her neck. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Tommy gestured between the three of them. “You were all in the room. And you were near her when the lights went out. And all three of you had prior knowledge of what the activity would be, as Hannah pointed out.”
Jenny flicked an annoyed gaze at a smiling Hannah and then narrowed her eyes at Tommy. Yep, he was failing the assessment with me. “Are you accusing us of murdering our colleague?”
Tommy didn’t flinch. “No. Are you accusing us of murdering your colleague?”
Jenny clenched her jaw shut. Her nostrils flared as she exhaled. “No.”
Tommy raised both his hands, a pleasant smile still on his face. “Then what’s the point of the exercise?”
“What’s been the point of any of these exercises?” someone on the fair side of the circle mumbled.
“The point is that someone here murdered poor Gracie.” Jessica stood and pointed to me then at the chair. “Bridget.”
Really? I didn’t take that kind of crap from Oz and he was technically the boss of me, whether I admitted that out loud or not. And he was hot. I wasn’t taking it from her. I stared at her. I stared at her long enough for her to start fidgeting with the pocket of her jumpsuit.
“I’m sorry. What was your name?” I asked.
She straightened her shoulders and tilted her head up. “Jessica.”
“Okay, Jessica.” I inclined my head to her as a form of handshake. “I’ll happily take my turn.”
“Good.” She pointed to the chair again.
“Right after Jenny, Matthew and Nancy.” And since everyone else was pointing at things, I pointed to them, then to her. “And you.”
Jessica looked to Jenny for help and Jenny pointed to me then to the chair. “You were volunteered first.” What was wrong with these people? Why did everything need to be pointed at? I wasn’t blind. I could see where the chair was.
“I remember that, Jenny. But you” – I pointed at Jenny – “have to wonder. Jessica” – I pointed at Jessica – “was awfully quick to literally point the finger at someone else before anyone could point it at her.” I pointed to her again for emphasis. Jessica started to bumble out some protests but I ignored her. “And I” – I pointed to myself – “have never played this game before so it would be really beneficial to me” – I pointed to myself again and still using my oh-so-reasonable tone – “and no doubt everyone else in the room, for you to show us what to do.” I pointed around the room, to her and Matthew and then back around the room.
Tommy had erupted into a coughing fit in the middle of my pointing spree but I assumed that was more to cover his laughter.
If it were possible to shoot real daggers from your eyes Jenny would have impaled me so completely I would’ve resembled a pincushion. Or dagger cushion. Jenny flounced to the centre of the circle and flopped into the chair, legs crossed, arms folded and pouting. The picture of approachable compliance.
I looked around the room, trying very hard to keep my smile moderated. I so loved winning. “Now, who would like to start?”
∞
I peeled the paper back and blew on the cheese and onion pasty Sabrina had chosen for me from the canteen before taking a small bite. I was sitting on the grass in the Italian Gardens opposite Sabrina and Edith, who had spread their lunches out over the bench. They’d offered to move but I was happy on the grass with my back to the sun. I assumed that Sabrina had filled Edith in on what she’d missed since when I arrived they’d been discussing the best places to dump a body. I wasn’t sure whose body they were considering dumping but it was nice to know they were planning for all contingencies.
“How was it, dear?” Edith asked, tucking into her pasta salad.
“It was role playing,” I said, and Edith and Sabrina pulled the same expression as if they’d tasted something bitter and sucked some air through their teeth. “Or it was supposed to be, but some twit accused me of murder so we played the well-known role play game where one person sits in the centre of a circle and everyone questions their murderous intentions.”
“What?” Sabrina asked. “You got to question everyone in your group? About the murders?”
“Yep.” I took a small sip of the water Sabrina had gotten for me. “Well, just Gracie’s really.”
Edith forked up a plum tomato from her salad. “It’s rude to drag it out, dear.”
“No one saw anything which, since we were in a pitch black room, is not a surprise. But no one heard anything either. No one had an inkling anything was wrong until the lights came on. And no one incriminated themselves under questioning.” I took another bite of my pasty. The calorie free food was a pretty good silver lining to being dead. It’d been a long time since I’d enjoyed a good pasty.
“That’s disappointing,” Sabrina said.
I dusted some flakes of pastry from my lap. “I know. No one openly admitting to murder when being questioned in public. It was quite a shock to me too.”
“So our suspect list is no smaller.” Edith reached for her coffee and took a small sip. “Have you spoken to your housemate, the one with the terrible fashion sense? Has she got any prime suspects for us?”
“I was a little preoccupied last night but I will tonight,” I said. “But first, did you read the police report about what happened last night?”
Sabrina threw a glance at Edith and then looked back to me. “Yeah. Gracie stumbled into you. You caught the knife handle as she fell backward. The lights came on and you're implicated in her murder.”
“Yeah, so, that’s not exactly what happened. That’s just what I told the police. And Oz.”
Sabrina narrowed her eyes at me. “You didn’t stab her, right?”
I gave Sabrina a flat stare. “Yes. I stabbed her. In a room full of witnesses.”
“It was dark. No one would’ve seen you.” Sabrina inclined her head in thought. “You could’ve done a better job of getting rid of the murder weapon though.”
“What did you neglect to tell the police, dear?” Edith asked, patting Sabrina’s knee to quiet her.
“That someone stabbed Gracie, grabbed my wrist, yanked me to my feet, slapped the knife handle into my hand and then, I think, pushed Gracie into me to cover me in her blood.”
Sabrina covered her mouth and spoke around her hand. “That’s not good, Bridge.”
“Oh, really? Is it not?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in faux surprise. “I’m so glad I have you here to explain these things to me.”
“First the eyewitness and then this.” Edith tapped her chin. “Someone is working hard to frame you, dear. Any ideas on who it could be?”
“Any idea who hates me enough to murder a couple of people and blame me?” I shook my head. “No. I’d like to think no one hates me that much.”
“It’s not about hating you, dear, it’s about you being a convenient scapegoat.”
“But why am I the scapegoat?” I asked but it came out as a whine. “There’s a whole room full of other people being assessed.”
“Yes, dear, but those other people haven’t found three dead ghosts already.”
“Actually. This is good news,” Sabrina said. “It might narrow our suspect list. Was it a man or woman who grabbed you?”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “You remember the part about it being pitch black, right?”
Sabrina tutted at me. “How big was their hand? Did they yank you up easily or did it feel like it required effort from them? Was the hand smooth or rough? Did you feel long nails dig into your skin when they grasped your wrist?”
“It was cold,” I said with a shrug. “I was so surprised, and a little freaked out, I didn’t pay all that much attention to whether they used hand cream or not.”
“What was your initial thought when you felt them grip your wrist?” Edith asked.
“Do you mean other than the same thought I have every morning I wake up, which is ‘this isn’t going to end well’?”
Edith pressed her lips into a flat line. “Yes, dear, other than that.”
“I though it was Gracie. She’d flipped out at me earlier. I don’t know what I thought she was going to do though.”
Sabrina nodded. “Okay, so that means it’s a woman. It narrows our suspect pool, at least.”
“Just because I thought it was Gracie?” I glanced between them. “Did you hear the part where she flipped out at me? Of course I thought it was Gracie.”
Edith shook her head. “Your mind took in all the clues without you realising, dear. If it had been a man your first thought wouldn’t have been Gracie. Some part of your brain would’ve recognised the difference.”
I glanced between them. “I love your oh-so-scientific deductions.”
“Combine this with the face shifting and it means that whoever is doing this is definitely an experienced ghost and they have to be in your assessment group, so that leaves who?” Sabrina asked, ignoring my dig.
“Jenny, Nancy and Hannah. And then there’s a crazy woman called Jessica too. Although I’m not sure how long Nancy and Hannah have been dead for. Or Jessica. Or Jenny for that matter.” I tried to do a mental check around the group. I was pretty sure everyone else who wore profession jumpsuits were men.
“Some people learn the face shifting with relative ease. And, occasionally, by accident.”
Sabrina frowned. “What? Like, I died on Monday I can face shift on Tuesday?”
“No. Not quite that easily. Some people can learn it in a week or two though, but they’re usually …” Edith’s frown smoothed out as she looked between us.
I winced. I had a horrible feeling I wasn’t going to like what Edith was about to say. “They’re usually what?”
“They’re usually mediums,” Edith said.
Sabrina slapped her thigh and pointed to me. “Told you it was Warren!”
“You just told me the murderer was a woman!” I gestured to her with my bottle of water, sloshing some onto the grass. “And when? When did you say it was Warren?”
“I said he was shifty after that back watching deal.”
“You think everyone’s shifty.”
Sabrina threw her hands up. “Everyone here is shifty!”
“Warren does seem like a good suspect, and he is small and weedy. You could mistake him for a woman in the dark,” Edith said.
I shook my head at them both. “You guys are ridiculous.”
Edith waved away my comment. “We’ll do some more digging. And on the topic of your friends, dear—”
“I thought we’d just decided Warren was possibly a blame-passing murderer? Not a friend.”
“—we had a lovely chat with Eric.” Edith arched an eyebrow and spoke over me. “Very interesting boy. We also found that Watson hadn’t made one positive recommendation for any of her patients.”
I glanced between Sabrina and Edith. “Not one?”
Sabrina shook her head. “Just as well you killed her or she’d have had you imprisoned and brainwashed.”
“That’s weird, right?” I asked Edith, ignoring Sabrina. “Surely not every one of her patients can need brainwashing. The odds against that have to be huge. It would be good if we could find out what the average per cent of negative recommendations from others doctors look like.”
“Checked this morning,” Sabrina said. “General range is anything from forty to sixty per cent.”
“Wow, that’s pretty high,” I said.
“I think that’s quite low,” Edith said. “You have to remember that if these people are being sent to therapy then there’s already something obviously wrong.”
“Oz sent me to therapy,” I pointed out.
“Once, dear, to cover you both from further questioning.”
“Because that worked out so well,” I mumbled.
“I’m assuming Sabrina’s filled you in on Jenny’s missing file,” Edith said.
“Which I’ve still not been able to locate,” Sabrina added.
“Maybe she really is a GB plant again,” I said.
“Has she been a plant before?” Edith looked between us and we nodded. “Well, then it’s likely she is again.”
Sabrina focused on Edith like there was nothing else in her vision. “How do you know?”
“The GBs recruit trainee GA leaders to act as plants in certain situations.”
“Wouldn't that be a bit obvious since Bridget already knows she's been a plant?” Sabrina asked.
“Not if she is genuinely a trainee GA leader. Which makes her more like a snitch. Or double agent,” I said. “Recruited to investigate Watson's lack of positive recommendations while doing her job.”
“That would make sense,” Sabrina said with a nod.
“Wait, did you say all trainee GA leaders?” I asked Edith. I did not want Lucy being a plant. I didn’t see that ending well for her. “Do they remain plants once they’ve graduated? Can they say no? Why trainee GA leaders specifically?”
“She’s worrying about her housemate,” Sabrina explained to Edith’s frown.
“All trainees are recruited but their level of involvement differs,” Edith explained. “They’re recruited under the guise that it helps GA leaders understand the importance of ensuring their groups remain well-adjusted and to foster a positive working relationship with the GBs. That way the GA leaders are supportive of the GB organisation and more likely to call on them if they have concerns.”
I shook my head. “Well, that’s just not happening. I don’t want Lucy involved on any level with the GBs.”
“But you’ll happily get in bed with them?” Sabrina asked.
“I’m not ‘in bed with them’ and even if I were, I’m well-adjusted, regardless of what Watson thought. Lucy isn’t. They’ll take advantage of her, won’t they?” I asked Edith. Edith didn’t say anything but inclined her head with a slight grimace, which I took to mean I was right. I was talking to Oz about this the next time I saw him. And Lucy. If I bribed her with enough makeovers I was fairly sure I’d be able to convince her not to get too involved with them. And that did seem like a truly honourable reason to steal essential makeup items and build my collection back up.
“So, to get back to the whole murdering business, what you’re saying is we can strike Jenny off our suspect list?” I asked.
“Not necessarily, dear,” Edith said.
“Great,” I said with a sigh. “So, we’re no closer to a credible suspect.”
“Oh!” Sabrina snapped her fingers at me. “What was that about Oz at breakfast this morning?”
“Nothing,” I said with a sigh and adjusted my fringe. “He was just annoyed because I played nice with Officer Leonard to get home rather than sitting in that interrogation room all night.”
Edith frowned at me, her eyes narrowing like a hawk on a mouse. “Played nice how?”
“It’s a good job you’re not in bed with them, though,” Sabrina mumbled and I shot her a glare.
“We were about to leave, the detective blocked our way and pretty much directly challenged Oz for superiority in the situation. I pointedly asked the GB if we could go, implying the GB’s authority over the detective. Oz wasn’t happy about that.”
Edith inclined her head. She didn’t tut but I could tell she wanted to. “Well, it’s not wise to concede their power over anyone, and you did undermine Oz by asking, dear.”
“What did he do?” Sabrina asked.
I shrugged. “We had a bit of a discussion.”
“And?” Sabrina asked.
“And nothing.”
This time Edith did tut. “It’s considered impolite to lie to your friends, dear.”
I rolled my eyes. “And then I cried all over him.”
Edith and Sabrina exchanged a glance before Sabrina turned back to me. “You cried? In front of him?”
“No. Not in front of him. All over him. And I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened.” I grimaced at the memory. “I totally understand why people do it thou
gh. He stopped yelling so I’m considering that a win for me.”
Sabrina grinned at me. “What did he do?”
“He hugged me and lied to me.”
Edith smiled. “What lie did he tell you?”
“That everything was going to be okay.”
“That was nice of him,” Sabrina said with a cough and a nod.
“Are you being sarcastic right now?” I asked and looked between them when no one responded. Sabrina itched her ear and stared out over the gardens trying not to smile and Edith wore the same expression as she dusted down her skirt suit.
I glanced between them again. “What?”
“Nothing.” Sabrina shook her head.
“What?” I asked Edith.
“He seems like a very nice boy, dear.” She leaned forward and patted my knee. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”
“There’s nothing going on.” I glanced between them again.
“Okay.” Sabrina nodded, eyes wide and innocent.
“There isn’t!”
“Okay,” Sabrina agreed again, far too easily. “But you don’t cry in front of me.”
“I didn’t mean—” I swallowed the rest of that denial since neither seemed in the mood to buy it.
“And he’s such an improvement on that drip from the funeral,” Edith added.
I was completely ignoring that comment. “Are we going to check out this cruise holiday or what?”
Sabrina laughed as we disposed of our rubbish in the nearby bin before Edith took our hands and tunnelled us to outside the travel agents. The streets were lunchtime busy but because of the heat everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. In life it would have infuriated me but in the afterlife it helpfully made them all much easier to dodge.
“How are we going to do this?” I asked. “It’s not like we can just walk in and ask for the information we want.”
“That is exactly what we’re going to do, dear,” Edith said as she tilted her head to one side to stretch her neck out and then rolled her shoulders back.
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