Arrivals and Arrests

by Diana Xarissa

  “So he had the means to do it. Presumably he knew where his partner was going to be that morning.”

  “But what about a motive?”

  “Everyone knew they were always fighting,” Mona said. “I’d heard rumors, and I’d only met Mr. Collins once and never met Mr. Potter. Presumably, if Mr. Potter did it, it was because one of their business deals went badly wrong.”

  “But we know he didn’t do it, because he ended up dead as well,” Fenella added, making a note on the paper.

  “Right, next suspect, Donald Donaldson,” Mona announced.

  Fenella wrote the name on her list, feeling oddly reluctant to consider the man as a suspect in two murders.

  “I think we can assume just about everyone had the means to do it,” Mona said. “As I said before, knives are fairly easy to come by. You should ask Donald where he was the morning that Mr. Collins died and also where he was on Thursday.”

  “Oh, sure, I’ll just call him and say, ‘Thanks for the necklace. By the way, do you have an alibi for either of the murders that recently happened? I’m just curious.’ That will work out fine, I’m sure.”

  Mona laughed. “I was hoping you’d be able to be a bit more subtle than that,” she said. “We’re going to have to work on that, I think.”

  “I’m really not comfortable with the idea that Donald killed anyone,” Fenella said. “I spent the day with him. He certainly doesn’t strike me as a murderer.”

  “Murderers can be charming,” Mona told her.

  Fenella sighed. “So I’d better keep Donald at arm’s length, just in case.”

  “Let’s move on,” Mona suggested. “What about Suzy Monroe?”

  “Well, she was certainly in the right place to kill Mr. Collins,” Fenella said. “And she isn’t terribly nice, but that’s a long way away from murder.”

  “Can you think of any reason why she’d kill Mr. Potter?” Mona asked.

  “I don’t know anything about Mr. Potter. Was he married or single, for instance?”

  “You’ll have to ask Inspector Robinson,” Mona said.

  “Sure, because he’ll be eager to tell me all about the case.”

  “If you tell him you want to pay your respects to the man’s family, he might tell you something interesting,” Mona said.

  “Yeah, and then I might have to go and visit some devastated widow or something,” Fenella shivered. “I think having to talk to Mandy Collins was bad enough.”

  “What about her as the killer?” Mona asked.

  “She seemed genuinely upset when she was here,” Fenella replied. “And I can’t see why she’d kill Mr. Potter, either.”

  “Maybe she was still heir to her ex-husband’s share of the business,” Mona said thoughtfully. “And maybe she decided to get rid of Mr. Potter so she could get her hands on the whole business.”

  “Surely Mr. Potter will have his own heirs for his share,” Fenella argued.

  “That’s something else you need to find out,” Mona said.

  “Yeah, sure,” Fenella muttered.

  She used a spatula to pile her French fries onto a plate and then tipped the contents of the frying pan next to them. Getting a soda from the fridge, she sat down at the table with her dinner.

  “You could try asking Doncan Quayle about the wills,” Mona said. “I don’t think he would have been the advocate for either of the men, but he might know who is, and the contents of their wills might be common knowledge.”

  “Maybe,” was all Fenella said around a mouthful of chicken.

  Mona frowned. “What about Bethany Carter?” she asked.

  “The woman from the vet’s office? I know she said she’d dated Mr. Collins, but she seems unlikely as a murder suspect.”

  “We need to consider everyone,” Mona told her. Fenella wrote the woman’s name on her list.

  “Is that everyone?” Fenella asked.

  “Oh, it isn’t even close,” Mona replied. “Peter Cannell has to be on the list, and so does his horrid ex-wife, Shannon. I almost hope it was her, as I’d like to see her in prison.”

  “Why?”

  “She treated poor Peter very badly,” Mona told her. “He was an idiot, of course, but she really took advantage of him.”

  Fenella added their names to the list as well. “I suppose we should add Kara Newstead as well,” she said. “Although I don’t know anything about her.”

  “She was the secretary at the business, right? Maybe she was stealing from them or something.”

  “Anything’s possible,” Fenella muttered. She wrote Kara’s name on the bottom of the list and then slid the pad across the table. “Is that everyone now?”

  “I can’t think of anyone else, but, of course, there could be many other suspects we know nothing about. Now you have to talk to Inspector Robinson and try to find out who we’ve missed, and then try to eliminate a few names so that we can focus on the others.”

  “And then what?”

  “And then we’ll work out which one really did it and you can tell the inspector and we’ll all sleep better.”

  “Do ghosts sleep?” Fenella asked.

  “Not exactly,” Mona replied. “But you’ll sleep better, anyway.”

  “I’m not having any trouble sleeping.”

  “But the longer this drags on, the harder it will be for you to sleep,” Mona predicted.

  “So do you have a favorite suspect?” Fenella asked after she’d finished eating. She pulled a tub of ice cream from the freezer and settled into one of the chairs in the living room. Katie had eaten her dinner and then moved back onto the most comfortable of the chairs, but Fenella didn’t really mind.

  “If I didn’t know Peter so well, I might suspect him,” Mona told her. “I keep thinking that stabbing someone is something a man would do, not a woman.”

  “And yet the vast majority of our suspects are women,” Fenella pointed out.

  “I suppose Donald is a good possibility,” Mona said thoughtfully. “He’s a ruthless businessman.”

  Fenella’s hand moved to her throat and she felt the cool, smooth pendant under her touch. “I really hope it isn’t him,” she said softly.

  Mona frowned. “I’m sure there must be other men out there that Mr. Collins upset. No doubt the inspector is looking into all of his business deals.”

  “No doubt,” Fenella agreed.

  “So you really must speak to him about it,” Mona said. “Perhaps he’ll be at the Tale and Tail again tonight.”

  “I can’t ask him about the murders,” Fenella said insistently.

  “Just have a chat with the man. Ask him how things are going, make small talk, and then sneak a few questions in. How difficult can it be?”

  Fenella just stared at her aunt for a moment and then rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t going to go out tonight,” she said. “I was going to curl up with a good book.”

  “It’s Saturday night,” Mona said. “I went out every Saturday night from the time I was seventeen until the week before I died. You can’t sit at home on a Saturday night.”

  “I haven’t been out on a Saturday night in years,” Fenella replied. “And I’d feel strange walking into the pub on my own.”

  “So go and get Shelly and take her with you. Or Peter. I’m sure either of them would be delighted. They’re both probably going anyway.”

  “Yes, well, they haven’t invited me to tag along, so maybe they don’t want me there,” Fenella said, feeling friendless and alone.

  “Nonsense, they thought you were going to be out with Donald, that’s all.”

  Fenella might have argued further, but someone knocked on her door.

  “I just wanted to make sure you got home in time to give Katie her evening meal,” Shelly said. “Are you going out soon?”

  “Oh, no, not at all. Something came up and Donald had to cancel our dinner plans.”

  “Too bad,” Shelly said. “Do you want to come down to the pub with me, then?”

  Fenella glanced
over at Mona, who gave her a smug grin. “Yeah, I’d like that,” she told the older woman. “Can you give me ten minutes to freshen up?”

  “Sure, I’ll stop back,” Shelly agreed. “I need some fresh lipstick myself.”

  Fenella quickly ran a brush through her hair and touched up her makeup. “Stop fussing,” she told herself as she powdered her nose. “You aren’t going on a date, this is just a fun night out with a friend.”

  “You should always make an effort,” Mona said from behind her. “You never know whom you might see when you’re out.”

  Fenella rolled her eyes and shrugged at her reflection. “I suppose I’ll have to do,” she said.

  “You could put on a dress,” Mona suggested. “It’s Saturday night.”

  “I don’t usually wear skirts or dresses,” Fenella said. “They’re far too much bother.”

  “Which means you haven’t shaved your legs today,” Mona guessed.

  Fenella ignored her and headed into the kitchen. She refilled Katie’s water bowl and added a handful of dry food to her food bowl. Katie brushed past her to take a few bites and a drink.

  “You behave, then,” Fenella told Katie. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Katie blinked at her and then walked back to the living room. She stood next to her favorite chair and began to shout.

  “What’s the matter?” Fenella asked. She walked into the room and found Mona sitting in the chair that Katie usually occupied.

  “Really?” Fenella sighed. “Are you two going to fight over that chair?”

  “It’s the most comfortable chair in the room,” Mona said.

  “Does that matter?” Fenella asked.

  “Comfort is important to everyone, even ghosts,” Mona said.

  Fenella sighed. “Katie, can’t you sit somewhere else?” she asked.

  Katie gave her a petulant look and then jumped up onto the couch. She walked around in a circle, sniffing and poking at the cushions. Finally, she settled herself into the corner, snuggling in and resting her head on her front paws.

  “You two be nice to each other,” Fenella said sternly. Shelly’s knock on the door precluded any reply.

  “All ready?” Shelly asked.

  Fenella looked at her friend’s fire-engine red dress and matching high heels. “Maybe I should change,” she said, glancing down at her jeans and sweater.

  “You’re fine,” Shelly told her. “I’ll be overdressed, but it makes me happy to dress up once in a while. Hubby and I didn’t go out very often, so when we did, I used to dress up. Now I try to dress up every chance I get. Life’s too short to keep your posh clothes for special occasions.”

  “I don’t really have posh clothes,” Fenella said with a laugh. “Jack and I never really went out anywhere except to work functions when we absolutely had to. I just wore my business suits to those things.”

  “We should go shopping,” Shelly told her. “And stop looking so worried. I know my clothes are a bit flashy, but they make me happy. I actually have very good taste and I promise to help you find things that suit you and that you really like. I know bright colors aren’t for everyone.”

  “You look lovely in that red,” Fenella told her. “Maybe I should try adding a little bit of color to my wardrobe. I do tend to favor black and grey.”

  “You should highlight your hair, too,” Shelly said. “You’re too young for that dark, all-over color.”

  Fenella blushed and ran a hand through her hair. “I just wanted to hide the grey,” she explained.

  “And I need to learn to think before I speak,” Shelly said. “It’s lovely, really, but I think it would be better if you put some lighter streaks through it. But don’t pay any attention to me. You do what you want.”

  “She’s right,” Mona said from where she was still sitting in the comfortable chair.

  Fenella looked over at her and shook her head. “I think I really need a drink,” she said firmly.

  “Let’s go,” Shelly said brightly, clearly pleased that Fenella had dropped the subject.

  “Don’t forget to ask the inspector about the investigation,” Mona called after her. “We need to know who has an alibi and who doesn’t.”

  Fenella rolled her eyes at her aunt and quickly followed Shelly out of the apartment. There had to be a way to get rid of Aunty Mona, didn’t there?

  The pub was about half full when Shelly and Fenella arrived. They got drinks, and then Shelly looked at Fenella.

  “I need to go and say ‘hello’ to a few people. Do you want to come and meet some of my other friends, or do you want to look at the books?”

  Fenella debated for a whole second before she grinned sheepishly at Shelly. “I’d really like to look at the books,” she admitted.

  “Off you go,” Shelly laughed. “The man is a former colleague who is one of the most boring men I know and his wife is empty-headed. If I thought you’d actually want to be friends with either of them, I’d drag you over, but you’re better off with the books.

  Fenella laughed and headed to the nearest bookcase, her glass of wine in hand. She found she couldn’t resist pulling out nearly every title to read the back covers, so she didn’t make much progress. Within a few minutes, she’d found a book that interested her enough that she opened the cover and began to read.

  “Something interesting?” a voice asked.

  “Most books interest me,” she confessed to Inspector Robinson with a rueful shrug.

  “I know what you mean,” he agreed. “I can read just about anything, except police procedurals. I don’t mind if a murder mystery gets a few little things wrong when it comes to the police work, but when the whole book is about how the police operate, I expect them to get things right.”

  “I don’t read historical fiction for much the same reason,” Fenella replied. “I know the authors do research, but as soon as I find a single mistake, I can’t bring myself to read any further, and there’s nearly always a mistake in the first ten pages.”

  The inspector nodded. “I shouldn’t interrupt you, though,” he said.

  “No, it’s fine,” Fenella told him. “Actually, now that you’ve mentioned it, I’d love to hear more about how the police really do work. I’ve never been caught in the middle of two murder investigations before and I know you must be doing everything you can to solve the cases. Can you tell me anything about what you’re doing?”

  “Only in the most general terms,” he replied. “Are you sure this is something you want to talk about on a Saturday night?”

  Fenella laughed. “I love murder mysteries, but being caught up in one is so very different. I’d love hear more about the cases, if you don’t mind spending your night off talking about work.”

  He gave her a thoughtful look and then shrugged. “Why don’t we get a table upstairs?” he suggested.

  Fenella followed the man up the winding staircase, waving at Shelly as they went. Shelly smiled and waved back.

  The inspector chose a small table in the back corner of the room, and Fenella slid into one of the chairs with her mind racing. She’d do her best to learn what she could, but there was no way she was going to be able to get answers to all of Mona’s questions.

  “So what did you want to know?” the man asked once they were settled.

  “As I said, I’ve always loved reading murder mysteries,” Fenella told him. “But I’ve never been caught in the middle of a murder investigation before. I’m just curious how you go about finding the killer, that’s all.”

  “I can’t give you any specifics as they apply to this case,” he warned. “But I’ll tell you a little bit about the process, if you’d like.”

  “Yes, please,” Fenella said. The man probably thought she was strange, but there wasn’t much she could do about that. Even though she told herself she was doing this for Mona’s benefit, she definitely wanted to see the crimes solved, and she quite liked the idea of helping, if she could.

  “The first job for the police is for the crime
scene technicians, really,” the inspector told her. “Sometimes they’re able to find fingerprints or DNA or some other physical evidence that makes my job a lot easier.”

  Fenella nodded. “And there seem to be new advances in those areas all the time.”

  “Yes and no,” he replied. “The field is progressing rapidly, but the basics remain the same. And good old-fashioned detective work remains the same as well. It would be wonderful if every murderer simply left their fingerprints on the murder weapon, but that rarely happens.”

  “Everyone knows about fingerprints,” Fenella remarked.

  “They do. And more and more people know about DNA and physical evidence. As our technology has improved, clever criminals have started getting smarter.”

  “Oh, dear,” Fenella said, sighing. “And as no one has been arrested yet, I’m guessing you didn’t get much physical evidence for the two murders I’m, well, um, that I know about.”

  He smiled. “I can’t really discuss the cases, but if we did have clear and unimpeachable physical evidence, we would have made an arrest by now.”

  “So what happens next?”

  “We start trying to find out everything we can about our victim. We find out who he or she was friends with, whether they had any enemies, how close they were to their family, really, everything we can learn.”

  “And all of those people are suspects?”

  The man nodded. “But not just them. You can’t rule out random acts of violence or even someone being mistaken for someone else and being killed.”

  “So just about everyone on the island is a suspect.”

  “Pretty much,” the man nodded. “At least in the early days of the investigation. Obviously, a great many people can be eliminated because they weren’t anywhere near the scene of the crime. That’s another aspect that we spend a lot of time on, trying to work out exactly when the victim met his or her fate. The more we can narrow that window, the better.”

  “You have a pretty narrow window for Mr. Potter, if not for Mr. Collins,” Fenella remarked.

  “Alibis are tricky things, though. It’s often very difficult for someone to prove where they were at any given time, no matter how small the window.”