by Peter Boon
He was right; I’d been thinking along these lines myself. Thinking logically, it couldn’t be a coincidence that the Vicar was involved in a public confrontation before he found his wife dead a couple of hours later. Those two events must have been connected somehow.
‘Yes, that’s a good idea,’ I agreed. ‘So, Mum and I went out to the square -’
‘Wait! Now can I take notes?’
Everyone looked at Noah and I laughed, nodding my head. His enthusiasm might seem inappropriate at times but his way of looking at things could be helpful, and I knew what he’d write would be thorough. I agreed and went on to tell the story of Pedro attacking Reverend Flowers.
I finished the story and was surprised to see Becky, the newcomer to our grouping, be the first one to speak. ‘So, you basically need to know whether Pedro’s accusation of the Reverend sleeping with Cherry is true. If so, your killer is probably Reverend Flowers or Pedro.’
‘Yes, but I’d go back a step before that first, and think about who was there on the scene and what their involvement was.’ Kat’s contribution earned her a look from Becky, who then smiled quickly to cover it.
‘I agree with both those things!’ Noah called out as he typed away quickly in his phone. Both points did make sense. Of course, if the Vicar was having an affair it would likely link directly to his wife’s death; it could have been in a marital argument, or Pedro could have gone to confront Reverend Flowers again in an angry rage. So, of course they were prime suspects.
Although Kat was right. The two separate occurrences of the fight and the murder seemed connected, like a cause and effect. One happened because of the other. But not necessarily involving the two main parties in the fight; the incident in the square happened with a number of witnesses and people present, and something or someone there likely led to Frances’ death.
‘Me too, Noah, but Kat has a point; let’s note everyone who was present this morning.’ Becky looked crestfallen at my comment, which made me nervous for a second. I tried to compose myself by focusing on Noah. ‘Will you note these names down for me?’
He clapped his hands in triumph before starting typing away. ‘So obviously we have Reverend Flowers and Pedro. And I’d probably say Jacob too.’
‘A teenage boy killing his mum, that’s a bit dark, isn’t it?’ Becky commented.
Noah considered her carefully and then smiled. ‘What you need to know about murder mysteries is suspect everyone; don’t leave anybody out. It could be the person you least expect. Agatha Christie had a little girl killer once.’
Referencing his classic mystery tropes was something I knew no one would mind him doing; the outcome of Miss Finch’s murder had shocked all of us. Expressing this through his knowledge of murder mysteries came naturally for Noah, and it didn’t surprise me to see him including his friend Jacob on the list.
‘Okay, so who else do we have?’ Kat said, moving the conversation along.
‘Everyone else there is in the Flowers’ friendship group, really,’ I clarified as I fidgeted with my hands. ‘Claire and Kimmy Atkinson, and Gloria Hernandez.’
‘Were any of them having an affair with the Vicar?’ Becky asked. She seemed keen to be involved in the conversation.
‘Obviously not Claire and Kimmy,’ Noah replied quickly and loudly. ‘They’re lesbians!’
Alfie and Dylan both looked at each other and burst out laughing. ‘Yeah, it reduces their odds a little,’ Dylan said through chuckles.
‘And we’re friends with them,’ Alfie added. ‘They’re alright.’
‘Well, I didn’t know,’ Becky snapped.
‘Of course you didn’t, baby.’ Patrick put his arm round her to comfort her.
It’s a really good point, though,’ Kat said. ‘Just because Pedro accused the Vicar and Cherry, doesn’t mean they were the ones having the affair. That’s what I meant about thinking of everyone.’
‘Yes, exactly, thank you Kat,’ Becky replied through a smile. I couldn’t quite work out was going on with these two women, but it now seemed that Kat was aware of Becky being the outsider and was trying to include her.
‘So Gloria could be having an affair with Reverend Flowers!’ Noah announced loudly. I looked around in panic to check if Gloria was in hearing distance, but she was no longer in the pub.
Gloria Hernandez was definitely someone worth talking to regardless. As well as being the Flowers’ best friend, she was Pedro’s very bitter ex-wife and had been the most vocal against him during the incident. She was bound to have insight, however biased, as to what had been happening.
‘That’s the sweet hut lady, isn’t it?’ Dylan said. ‘I love her strawberry bon-bons.’
‘Who else? Kat asked, again getting the conversation back on track. ‘Are we missing anyone?’
‘Mum’s always gossiping about the Vicar and his lady parishioners,’ Alfie said. ‘Any chance one of them got jealous and did in their love rival?’
It was far-fetched, but any explanation of who killed the meek wife of the Vicar seemed far-fetched. So it was possible.
Kat answered before I got a chance to. ‘Maybe, but I meant sticking with the people at the scene this morning. Was there anyone else there, Ed?’
‘Well, me and Mum were, obviously,’
‘That’s it, I knew it!’ Alfie said dramatically. ‘Obviously Mum saw her opportunity to strike revenge on the Flowers for daring to sell craft beer out there.’
‘Don’t even joke about that,’ I said as I sighed warily, before realising something. ‘That’s it, the craft beer! I almost forgot – the Burger She Wrote guy. He was there too, but he only came over at the end. I didn’t think much at the time, but I suppose it was strange he didn’t come and help stop Pedro.’
‘You think he could be something to do with it, buddy?’ Patrick asked me.
‘I don’t know, but he’s definitely worth speaking to. Mum always says how the winter market is so close knit, I wonder how he even got a spot there. Maybe he knows Reverend Flowers.’
‘The mysterious stranger!’ Noah said. ‘They’re always a good suspect.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘I’ll just need to find out a bit about who he is.’
‘His name is Everest Brown, he’s 37, he’s from London, but he’s staying in Kimmy and Claire’s B&B while he’s here.’
I looked back at Noah in amazement. ‘How do you know all that?’
‘Oh, I asked him. He was very a nice man actually. But that doesn’t fool me, he could still be the killer. Remember Hercule Poirot said “every murderer is someone’s old friend.”’
I caught myself laughing out loud, while everyone else on the table smiled politely. Despite the seriousness of the situation, it felt strangely good to be doing this with Noah again, and his unique interpretations always made me smile. ‘That’s fantastic, Noah, thank you.’
He beamed back at me before replying. ‘So we’re kind of looking at a closed circle mystery, but it’s a bigger circle this time.’
Everyone at the table looked perplexed. ‘How’s that, Noah?’ my brother was the one to ask.
Noah sat up proudly, his shoulders back and his head up. He was loving this. ‘Our core group of suspects are the people who were present in the square this morning: Reverend Flowers, Jacob Flowers, Pedro Hernandez, Gloria Hernandez, Kimmy Atkinson, Claire Atkinson, Everest Brown.’
‘So you have seven suspects?’ Becky asked.
‘Yes, and no,’ he replied. ‘They are seven possible suspects. But like we said, it could easily be a jealous parishioner, or someone we don’t know about, or even Cherry McDonald.’
He was right. ‘Yes, Noah. She wasn’t there in the square, but she was the subject of the argument. She easily could have gone to the Vicarage and got into a row with Frances.’
‘Exactly,’ he continued. ‘So it isn’t a closed circle mystery in that sense, as it could be someone other than those people. But it is a closed circle mystery. Like I said, just a much bigger circle.’
I knew all about closed circle mysteries, but even I was getting confused now. ‘What do you mean, Noah?’
I saw him take a breath as he paused dramatically. He was loving this. ‘When Frances Flowers left the pub earlier, very much alive, the snow was already getting too thick to get out of the village. And now, no one can get in, but no one can get out either. Chalk Gap is the closed circle. Even if it isn’t one of those seven, the murderer is definitely someone still in the village.’
9
‘Hi, I’m Dean Wood, PC Wood. Nice to meet you and pleased to be working with you.’
I don’t think I’ve ever had my hand shook as enthusiastically as I did in that moment. I’d just arrived at the makeshift incident room in the church hall, and the young constable had come bounding over, looked me straight in the eye and beamed at me, while clasping my hand and shaking it rigorously. The whole routine was as if it had been practised to perfection.
‘Nice to see you again,’ I replied as he looked confused in return. ‘We have met before. You were guarding the school staffroom in the Miss Finch case. And I was there when you made the arrest.’
‘Oh yes, mate, yes. I remember you now.’ He had no poker face, and it was clear from his expression he didn’t know who I was. ‘Nasty business that, wasn’t it, mate?’
‘Yes, it was,’ I agreed, before realising another way he might know me: how most people in the village know me. ‘By the way, my family run the Chalk Inn, the village pub. You might know me from there.’
‘Ah, I don’t go in there. Too old a crowd for me – no offence, mate, of course. I prefer going to the clubs in Eastbourne or Brighton. You know how it is, mate.’
I resisted rolling my eyes. Another officer like Appleby, who thinks they’re everyone’s ‘mate.’ Is that part of their training or what? As I took him in though, my first impression was he didn’t have the sharpness of Appleby. He certainly seemed keen, but this excitable puppy of a man looked naïve and, well, young. I noted earlier that I felt out of my depth, but if I was in the shallow end of the pool with my armbands, PC Wood was in the kiddies’ pool in a rubber ring.
I gestured to Alfie and Dylan who were behind me. ‘These are the two volunteers who DI Appleby has asked to guard the crime scene.’
He looked at them as if he’d only just noticed that I had two other people with me. ‘Hello, fellas.’
‘PC Wood, this is my brother, Alfie, and his partner, Dylan.’
‘Oh great, nice to meet you guys, and thank you for helping us,’ he said as he shook both of their hands firmly. ‘So what kind of business do you two run?’
Alfie looked confused by the odd question. ‘I run our family pub that Edward’s just mentioned, but Dylan works at Chalk Gap Academy.’
‘Yes, I was also there when you were guarding the staff room that day, you probably don’t remember me.’ Dylan said.
Poor PC Wood looked utterly perplexed. ‘Oh, you don’t run a business together then? But he said you were partners?’ He looked blank for a few seconds until I saw the penny drop as realisation hit him and his expression changed. ‘Oh, I see, oh okay… that’s amazing, guys! Good for you!’
Alfie and Dylan shared an amused look, before he ushered them off to the Vicarage to guard the crime scene.
I took a deep breath after they left and considered PC Wood. I certainly had my work cut out for me pairing up with him, and I wasn’t sure if he was able enough to investigate, if he couldn’t even work out that Alfie’s partner meant his boyfriend, not his business partner.
To give him credit, looking around I could see he’d done a reasonable job setting up the incident room: making use of the whiteboards, markers and flipchart paper used by the Sunday School to set up what we needed, and setting up the PC and large screen ready for Appleby to video call into us. The bland, neglected, old-fashioned church hall looked purposeful. He’d either used his initiative or (more likely) followed Appleby’s instructions, but either way he’d done it well. I was sure that PC Wood was a good police constable, he just wasn’t a detective. But neither was I.
10
‘Hello mate!’ Appleby’s voice blasted out through the church hall, the acoustics of the wooden room making it sound hollow and flat. I heard him before I saw him, with his face taking a second to appear, at first inappropriately zoomed in: all I could see was his eyes and right up his nose. I pulled up a chair and small table, sitting myself in front of the screen and using my image in the corner to make sure I would be dead centre of Appleby’s view. Seeing myself always makes me anxious, and I straightened up my glasses self-consciously.
By the time I’d finished all that, Appleby had fixed his own screen so I could see him properly. He was holding whatever device he was using at arm’s length; I guessed it was his mobile phone. He was wearing an expensive-looking woollen hat and looked freezing, his cheeks bright red but his striking features allowing him to get away with it. I felt a pang of jealousy return; even shivering away in selfie mode, he looked like he’d effortlessly stepped off the set of a Christmas music video. Behind him I could see a bright white background which seemed to be wobbling, and I guessed they’d set up police tents in the fields as far along Chalk Gap Road as they could get.
‘Right then, mate,’ he started as he looked at me from the screen. ‘Let’s get going, shall we? Lots to update you on, then you can tell me what you know your end.’
‘Don’t we need to wait for PC Wood?’ I asked.
‘Nah, he’ll be busy at the crime scene for ages. That’s the kind of stuff we need him for, all the donkey work.’
‘Oh, alright then.’ I felt guilty for the slight sense of relief that I didn’t need to work with the over-zealous young officer for now. I already had my own over-enthusiastic sidekick in Noah.
‘Yeah, the Crime Scene Examiner will be video calling Wood to do the scene log, and secure all the forensic evidence for when we can get through. On that, still no joy with boat or helicopter, but we’ve managed to get help at this end from the farmers at Chris George’s farm, they’re going to fit snow ploughs on their tractors. That should hopefully help us to clear a way through in the next few hours.’
‘A few hours?’
‘At the least, mate. I’m trying to cover all the official stuff, but I’m relying on your brain to help us crack this one under the circumstances we have. I’ll come on to your bit in a minute, let me just finish telling you everything else that’s going on.’ His voice sounded tired and stressed already. I felt that all the information he was relaying was for his own benefit, to reassure himself, as much as it was for me.
‘Where was I, mate?’ He continued. ‘Right, your village GP is on video call with our Pathologist as we speak. Waiting to hear from them to hopefully get an idea of the time and cause of death.’
‘But I can tell you the cause of death, she was -’
‘Let’s do all that bit officially, mate, so we know where we are. Well I say officially, it won’t be official ‘til a registered Pathologist confirms it in person, but it will give us an idea. I tell you, it’s a bloody nightmare, this snow.’ He looked away from the screen as if listening to someone else for a second, and I saw him nod his head to someone off camera.
‘What do you want me to do, then?’ I was keen to get on.
‘Coming to that, Edward. Next, I’ve got my House to House Team Leader liaising with your mate Kat, to co-ordinate carrying out questionnaires of people in the area who might have seen something.’
‘How can you do house to house in this?’ I didn’t even know such a role existed. I could vaguely guess their job description, but the classic style murder mysteries I read didn’t cover the police investigation in such detail; they focused on the puzzle: leaving such in depth elements to the grittier police procedural novels.
‘Not literally house to house, we’re gonna start with everyone stranded around the village square, particularly the people using East Chalk Cliff for sledging. That backs on to the
Vicarage and someone there might have seen something.’
‘My thoughts exactly.’ This was what I’d identified myself earlier, so I should have felt confident in this, but I noticed the drumming of my fingers increase and felt a wave of frustration that Appleby was one step ahead of me. I focused on jotting down what he told me, avoiding looking at the screen.
‘Yeah, that will hopefully give us something. Next, we’ll talk to all the people in the pub and the volunteer team, the businesses at that end of the village, and if possible any houses we can get to. Kat’s got a few reliable people who can help us, mostly your school colleagues. We’re on such dodgy ground though, mate, all these jobs are meant to be carried out by constables, not volunteers. We’ll have to do all the official stuff later, and if I get my knuckles wrapped for it, fair enough.’
To give Appleby his due, he seemed to be on the ball and doing everything he could at his end under the restrictions he had. I knew how frustrated he would be not being able to get through with his team to do all their usual work. I felt determined to ensure that my part in proceedings would be valuable. Luckily, he seemed to have got to that bit at last.
‘Okay, Edward – your turn. Tell me everything you know so far.’
I sat up and started telling him everything I’d seen from the beginning, just as I’d told my friends. As I spoke, I remember starting to relax until I found myself sitting back in my chair, surprising myself with how comfortable I felt sharing my observations.
Appleby spoke after I’d finished. ‘Some really good stuff there, well done. Yeah, I agree that the confrontation in the square is a good starting point. Get talking to all the people there for now, and once the Pathologist and Crime Scene Examiner finish their stuff with Doctor Albright and PC Wood, we’ll look at what clues we have from the crime scene.’
I imagined this would be my role, and had given some thought to how I went about it. ‘We have to do it carefully, some of the people involved are easier to speak to than others.’ I thought of poor, grieving Reverend and Jacob Flowers and what they must have been going through.