by Peter Boon
I didn’t know how much Appleby knew at this stage, but I felt immediate guilt at being caught at a murder scene once again. I braced myself for the telling off to the amateur interfering in police business. But the telling off didn’t come.
‘The thing is, mate, we’re having a bit of trouble getting into the village. There’s no getting through from the main road at the minute, not even on foot, let alone in a vehicle. We’ve got all the man power we have working on it, but it won’t be easy.’ I could see the problem. The village centre was almost a mile and a half from the A259 main road, down a relatively narrow country road which would be buried deep in snow.
I realised how I could help. ‘You want me to get a group to start digging through at this end, is that it?’ I knew that this was on Kat’s task list, and several people were already assigned to this job. ‘There’s a few people already trying.’
‘Thanks mate, I’m already on that but I don’t think it will do much good. The snow’s just too deep, the stretch is too long and the snow’s falling faster than we can move it.’
‘What are you going to do then?’ I asked.
‘We’re working with the coastguard to see if we can access the village via boat or helicopter. But at the minute the sea is just too rough, and I don’t think we’ll be able to land the helicopter anywhere in all this snow.’ He paused. ‘So I’ve had to come up with another plan.’
‘Of course, what is it? I’ll help whatever way I can, and I’m sure I can get lots of other people as well.’
‘Well, you see mate, it’s your help specifically I need. How do you fancy investigating another murder for me?’
7
‘How can I be the one doing that?’ I was careful not to say investigating the murder in front of Noah; his over-excited reaction wouldn’t have been appropriate in front of Reverend Flowers. ‘You’ve said it before – I’m a civilian, I’m not the police.’
I thought back to Miss Finch’s murder. Yes, I’d been the one who’d eventually solved it, but my work consisted of me talking to my colleagues and friends on the side, mostly behind Appleby’s back, while the official investigation was underway.
‘You won’t be the one doing it. At least not officially. We’ve got a uniformed constable who lives in the village. It’s not ideal but he’s going to be my proxy, with me leading the investigation virtually until we can get through.’
‘You don’t need me then, do you?’ I ventured. As I spoke the words, I thought of the young officer amongst the volunteers earlier in the pub. That must have been who Appleby meant.
‘Mate, PC Wood has been a cop for less than a couple of years. He’s still wet behind the ears, he can’t do it by himself.’
‘It’s a couple of years more experience than me,’ I replied. I thought back to the day of Miss Finch’s murder, with PC Wood (I didn’t remember his name until now) guarding the staffroom door, bored and uninterested, playing with his phone most of the time. And how easily one of my colleagues had manipulated him into letting us leave.
‘Honestly Edward, he’s useless. I’d rather not use him, but the DCI’s over-ruled me. Says if we’ve got an officer in the village that’s the only option until we get through. He’s only okayed it ‘cos he thinks it won’t be too long. But PC Wood is a beat cop, he can’t investigate a murder. I’m just gonna have him do all the practical stuff – preserving the scene and so on. You’ll be doing the real work.’
I looked at the scene in front of me while I was on the phone. Noah had moved closer to me, quite blatantly trying to listen to the call. Reverend Flowers had knelt down by his wife in silence, his head bowed. He seemed to be praying.
There was something about the way the Vicar was bowed in prayer that moved me. He deserved to know what had happened to his wife, and it surely wouldn’t be long until the police found their way through the village by land, sea or air.
‘Okay, I’ll do it.’
‘Good man, I knew you would,’ Appleby said heartedly. I could imagine him shaking my hand firmly or even slapping my back if he was here in person. ‘I’ll brief Wood – like I said, he’ll do all the official stuff, you just do your usual thing – talking to the right people, asking the right questions, general poking your nose in.’
I should have known he couldn’t resist a dig, even when asking for my help. Appleby always saw himself as the alpha, and I was surprised he was relinquishing control, to me of all people, as much as he was. But I supposed he didn’t have much choice.
I still had a million questions about this strange situation. ‘Does your DCI know I’m involved, surely not? Won’t PC Wood just report back straight away?’
Appleby scoffed at this. ‘Not if I tell him not to, he won’t. Mate, I’m the DI, he’ll do whatever I say. I’m still the SIO on the case, just remotely for now, that’s all. And obviously, your part is completely unofficial, yeah. As far as this investigation goes, you don’t exist.’
I sniffed at Appleby’s cocky, straight to the point manner. I probably imagined that he enjoyed those last three words a little too much. I felt them and it did hurt me a little. I wouldn’t call us friends as such these days, but he obviously trusted me to involve me like this yet his ego was still very much there.
‘Okay then, what do you need me to do?’ The Vicar had stood up again and was looking over at me; I was eager to get back to him before Noah started up another conversation.
‘Wood’s Sergeant is briefing him as we speak. He’s going to come and secure the crime scene, then we’re going to need two trustworthy volunteers to guard it. I want you to do that for me please – send them to Wood at the scene once I give you the nod. I suggest the Spanish guy, your mate Patrick, as one. And I thought he could have that Noah kid with him.’
‘Noah?’ I exclaimed from my end of the conversation. Noah himself jumped to life, looking expectant and excited. I lowered my voice and trudged a few steps through the snow. ‘You want Noah guarding a crime scene?’ I whispered.
‘Think about it, mate. Think what he was like last time. He’ll be following you round, trying to investigate everyone himself. This way he’s in one place, got one of his teachers with him, and thinks he’s got a really important job so he’ll dedicate himself to it.’
I’d previously had issues with Appleby’s thoughts on Noah, but I had to admit, this was quite a clever plan. But then I thought about everything Noah went through in the Miss Finch investigation, and his stunning bravery. Despite his unusual approach (acting as if we’re all murder mystery characters), he was actually an asset. I wanted him more involved; I wanted him helping me.
‘It’s okay, Appleby, he’ll get bored too easily doing that, I’ll find a use for him that still keeps him out of trouble. And Patrick will be busy helping Kat co-ordinate the snowstorm volunteers.’ I thought of the best pair I knew to guard the scene. ‘I could get Alfie and Dylan to do it?’
‘Your brother and his fella, the school P.A. guy? Perfect, they’re reliable.’
‘Great, I’ll ask them both,’ I confirmed. ‘Then what?’
‘One of my team is on to your local GP, Doctor Albright, isn’t it? We’re hoping she can get through from the high street to work with our Pathologist to confirm the death and hopefully the time. Then once that’s done and the crime scene is secure, I want PC Wood to set up a temporary incident room near the scene. Somewhere private I can brief you both when I need to.’
I thought. The pub was already in use as the impromptu snowstorm hub, and would be likely to have Mum over my shoulder at every turn. But that left the church hall free – a suggestion Appleby was happy with.
‘Perfect, mate. Really close to the crime scene, and if me and Wood end up having to formally question any of them, we can have them there and I’ll do it remotely from here. They’ll all feel comfortable enough in the church hall to let their guard down.’
I felt my heartbeat quicken at the mention of they’ll all. I realised that once again the villagers of Chalk Gap
would be under the investigation spotlight: my friends and neighbours as murder suspects. I couldn’t believe this was happening again.
‘Okay, so I’ll give you half an hour or so,’ Appleby confirmed. ‘Then we’ll do a video call briefing – me, you and Wood. You can tell me what you know and we’ll get a plan of action going. Hopefully it won’t be too long after that we’ll be able to get through to the village somehow.’
I’m sure he wasn’t as hopeful they’d get through soon as I was. Even with a successfully solved murder under my belt, I’d never felt more out of depth in my life.
8
As I led Reverend Flowers into the Chalk Inn, I was conscious that everything felt different to an hour ago. Do you ever get the sensation that you don’t quite feel like you’re in reality, like everything around you is being performed by actors in a play? Maybe it’s the way my brain works. Especially after it’s had a shock, which seems to be happening more frequently lately.
‘Oh, Vicar!’ Mum shrieked across the pub as she ran towards us and threw her arms around him. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’ If everyone around me were actually actors in a movie, Mum definitely considered herself the leading lady.
‘I, erm, I… don’t know what to say,’ Flowers stammered as Gloria, Kimmy and Claire made their way over and embraced him.
‘Where is my son?’ He asked as he separated himself from the group hug. Kimmy gestured over to the fireplace, where Jacob sat staring at the dancing flames. Patrick was sat with him but he was in a world of his own.
‘Don’t you worry, Vicar,’ Mum called out as he headed over to Jacob. ‘My Edward will find out who did this! He’s working with the police.’
I felt several eyes in the room on me. How did Mum even know this yet? I realised exactly how when I noticed the one pair of eyes looking away sheepishly, belonging to Noah. This was a rare moment of self-awareness for him, but he did have a strong sense of right and wrong. He probably felt guilty for listening in to my call then repeating it.
‘Let’s get a table, buddy,’ Patrick called to me, as he left Jacob’s table to give him and his father some privacy.
Although Mum didn’t give them the same courtesy, suddenly needing to stoke the fire right next to them. ‘I’ll keep my eye on him for you, Edward, don’t worry,’ she whispered to me as she went. ‘I’ve seen enough true crime documentaries to know what’s going on here. It’s always the husband.’
Kat, who had just finished sending the next group out with shovels, glanced over at us.
‘You need a break, Kat, come sit down!’ Patrick shouted to her before she could busy herself with something else. ‘Alfie and Dylan are over there, let’s join them.’
Kat sighed before nodding to her head and moving towards Alfie and Dylan, while we did the same. I was aware of Noah looking over at us, as if waiting for something.
‘Come on then, Noah, come and join us,’ I said as I grinned at him. I couldn’t let him miss out if I was updating everyone on Appleby’s request. Even though he’d clearly already heard my end of the conversation.
‘Oh thank you, I didn’t want to intrude without being asked!’ He said as he bounded over to the group. It didn’t usually stop him, but he must have still felt guilty for blabbing to Mum.
As he sat down, I could feel someone else watching. As I looked across the bar, Becky Lau, who appeared to be washing cups (God knows how Mum roped her into that one), quickly looked down. She clearly did know about Kat and Patrick’s past; she must have been wondering why Patrick had asked his ex-girlfriend to come and sit with us, but not her. It was a good question.
It was that same ex-girlfriend who saved his bacon as he remained oblivious to the situation. ‘Becky, over here!’ Kat beckoned across the room. ‘You’ve worked your socks off all morning, come and have a break with us.’ Becky looked pleased and I was glad there was no friction between the two women. Of course, Kat was Becky’s boss too, but I was happy there was no girlfriend /ex-girlfriend stand-off between them.
In addition to Becky, I remember thinking I was surrounded by my closest confidantes, my support network: my two long-term best friends, my brother, and his partner – also our colleague and Kat’s P.A. – who was becoming a good friend of mine in his own right.
The five of us had become a quite close group since the Miss Finch case; Alfie and Dylan having separate connections to the group made them a perfect fit to socialise with us, and it seemed to work well for everyone.
Alfie wasn’t quite as much as a workaholic and was stepping back a bit from the pub, letting Mum and Dad take the reins again a bit more (which they both clearly loved); Dylan had a group of friends in the village after moving here; Patrick and Kat seemed much more comfortable hanging out together as part of a larger group; and we still got to see Kat since she moved out of our house. As for me, my social life was developing beyond once a week Friday night outings to karaoke. And I quite liked it.
And of course, I mustn’t forget Noah in this. As a 17 year old and a post-16 student at our school, he wasn’t part of our social group as such – Kat and Patrick (as his Head Teacher and English teacher respectively) in particular had to keep an element of professional distance from him. But he was a part of mine and Alfie’s family now, and more than ever he was one of my absolute favourite people. So no one ever minded if he came to join us with a lemonade when we were all in the pub together.
But he still hadn’t quite grasped all of the social norms of mixing in a group. ‘Edward, would you like me to take the minutes of our meeting?’ he asked as he produced his phone and went into the notes app.
It had taken me weeks after Noah moved in with Mum and Dad to stop calling me ‘Sir,’ as he was expected to in school. But I still hadn’t managed to stop him from minuting our conversations in his phone, in case they were useful in an ‘investigation.’
‘It’s okay, Noah, I think we can all just listen to Edward’s story for now,’ Kat said gently but authoritatively. Everyone listened while I quietly told them exactly what Appleby said and what he wanted me to do, including our idea for Alfie and Dylan to guard the scene, which they agreed to.
‘I’m so glad we’re investigating another murder!’ Noah exclaimed as he waved his arms in delight.
‘Ssshh!’ I spat out in a panic, as I glanced across the pub to where the Flowers men were sat consoling each other. They were a few tables away and luckily they didn’t seem to hear. Even luckier, neither did Mum, who was now ‘cleaning’ the mantlepiece over the fireplace right next to them.
‘Oh yes, sorry!’ Noah said a fraction quieter than the first time, as he reached for his beloved phone. ‘Can I make some notes now?’
‘Not yet, buddy,’ Patrick said this time. ‘We’re not going to talk about it in that much detail yet.’ He was right. It didn’t seem fair to talk about the ins and outs of the murder with the victim’s husband and son sat in the same room as us.
‘Of course, we won’t know the details until Doctor Albright confirms the death!’ Noah still seemed to misunderstand exactly why we couldn’t talk in depth yet, seeming to think it was due to a lack of medical detail.
‘Bev sent me a message, she’ll be at the scene by now,’ Kat replied. Doctor Beverley Albright was Kat’s cousin, which always made me slightly self-conscious when discussing my mental health with my GP. ‘She’ll do what she can, but it won’t be the same as having the Pathologist there.’
‘I can’t believe they still can’t get through,’ Dylan said. ‘Still, it’s a pleasant surprise, Appleby asking you to look into it.’
A surprise? Yes. Pleasant? I wasn’t sure. Another round of interrogating and suspecting people I know, with the expectation I’m going to be able to solve it, just because I’m a murder mystery enthusiast. I was worried I’d be put off reading them altogether at this rate.
‘Do you think you can trust him?’ Patrick asked as he played with the beermat in front of him. ‘You two sure have a complex history.’
We di
d. My old school bully was very wary of me in the Miss Finch case, not wanting me to pry too much, though he seemed grateful when I managed to identify the murderer. I wondered how much his colleagues and superiors knew about my involvement then, and noted that my support this time was being kept under wraps.
‘To be fair, I’ve been dealing with him on the phone just now, he was really nice,’ Kat piped up.
‘What do you mean, you’ve been dealing with him?’ Patrick asked, throwing the beermat down and earning himself an odd glance from Becky next to him.
‘Yeah, we’ve been liaising about the snowstorm problem,’ she replied cheerfully. ‘Obviously I’m co-ordinating volunteers at this end, and he’s got police and various others at that end trying to get through, so we’re hoping we might meet in the middle.’
‘I think it will be hours until they get through, if today at all. It’s not going anywhere and it’s still falling.’ I glanced through the window at the depths of snow surrounding us. The formerly beautiful winter wonderland now held an eerie, sinister feel to it, as if it was a co-conspirator harbouring a murderer. I kept picturing the sharp white snow with Frances Flowers’ dark red blood in it.
As I thought about this, Reverend Flowers and Jacob stood up from their table and we all pretended not to watch (some of us better than others) as the Vicar gently led his son out of the pub. A few seconds of respectful silence followed, before it was broken – I don’t think I need to tell you by who.
‘Can we talk about the murder properly now, please?’
I sighed at Noah’s request, but noticed the expectant expressions on every face at the table. Our Vicar’s wife being murdered in the snow was huge, shocking news; it was natural for everyone to want to discuss the details and make sense of it. And I was about to become involved, like it or not, so the input of my friends would be welcomed.
‘Okay then. I don’t even know where to start from.’
‘How about what happened in the square this morning?’ Dylan ventured. ‘I only know half of the story but I’m sure that’s important.’