by Peter Boon
Despite the new information, I still didn’t feel like I quite had all the pieces. In fact, I had more questions than answers. But I knew where some of those answers might lie – on Cherry’s phone.
23
I’m sorry, mate, the phone’s dead. A quick boost will do the trick though, I’ve got a charger on me.’
This wasn’t what I wanted to hear from PC Wood. He insisted it would only take a minute to get some charge, but I’d rather be free to look at the messages on there in detail, particularly in light of Kimmy’s confession.
I decided to give it half an hour and use the time to try Reverend Flowers again; technically, he and Jacob should have been under supervision until the police arrived, like everyone else.
As I clambered down the path from the hall to the church itself, the snow was still thick and difficult to walk through, but it had stopped falling at least. Part of me hoped that the police would be here soon to take this case off my hands, but the other part of me wanted to get to the bottom of this myself.
As I neared the church, I saw Flowers come out of it, slam the large wooden door shut and head in the opposite direction to me towards the Vicarage house. I don’t know why, but something stopped me from calling out to him (even though I wanted to speak to him); I decided to hang back and follow behind him instead.
He reached the door and fumbled with his keys, as I ducked into the ginnel that led to the back of the Vicarage, out of sight but close enough to hear him rustling around with the key. I jumped a little when I suddenly heard him speak, but I soon realised that he was talking to his son at the doorway.
‘Where are you going? You can’t just keep storming away, Jacob, we need to talk.’
‘Shut up, I’ve nothing to say to you. How could you do this to me, Dad?’
There was a silence for a moment. ‘You don’t think I did this, how could you?’
‘No, I don’t mean the murders, idiot.’
‘I’ll forgive that under the circumstances, Jacob.’
‘Oh you’re good at that, aren’t you? Forgiveness? Well, are you going to forgive me?’ I could hear his voice raising almost to a shout.
‘For what?’
‘Oh, plenty of things. But I’ll add this to the list.’
I heard a commotion and a shout, and peaked out from the alley to see Reverend Flowers laying in the snow, with Jacob stood over him. I remained where I was, listening, but I was ready to move if Jacob tried to attack his father any more than the push.
‘How could you betray me like that Dad? And Mum too. You ruined everything. You caused it, it’s your fault. I’ll never forgive you. I hate you.’
There was a few seconds of silence, before I heard trudging in the snow and then the Reverend’s voice. ‘Jacob. We can sort this out, I promise you. I know you loved her, Jacob. I know you loved her.’
There was no noise now and I could tell Jacob had gone. I waited a few moments and then revealed myself. ‘Reverend Flowers, let me help you up.’
‘Edward, thank you. How much of that did you hear?’
‘A little,’ I answered, as diplomatically as I could.
‘He’s just struggling with his mother’s death.’
‘Naturally,’ I reassured him.
‘Anyway, I owe you an apology for earlier, Edward. I was quite rude. I’ll of course come along with you now. I’m not sure where Jacob will get to, though. Do you think the police will make do with me, once they get here? He’s very upset about his mother.’
I told him that I expected they’d need to speak to Jacob as soon as they started the formal interviews, especially as he was 18 and not a minor. I expected the Reverend to complain or kick up a fuss, but he didn’t. He just trundled alongside me to the church hall, deep in thought.
24
It was interesting watching Reverend Flowers arrive at the church hall and how it affected the dynamics of the others already sitting there.
Pedro immediately jumped up and away from Claire and Kimmy, instead sitting with my mum. Everest gave the Vicar a polite, sympathetic nod you’d expect to a grieving neighbour or colleague you know a little. There was nothing to suggest a particularly familiar relationship between them.
Where I did see a familiar relationship, or rather an over familiar one, was with Gloria. She leapt out of her seat and ran to hug the Reverend before taking his hand to lead him to sit with her.
‘Don’t worry about anything, we can sort it out,’ I heard her whisper to him. She had some front, I’d give her that much.
‘The phone’s charged enough, mate,’ PC Wood called out to me as the Reverend sat down. I took it from him and headed to the small room to read it in private, though maybe not that private as I noticed Noah follow me.
‘I don’t get to look at the phone with you?’ Wood said after me, sounding disappointed.
‘You’re the only police officer here, we need you to oversee the suspects. The murderer is almost certainly among them, so we need you: guarding a killer is a big responsibility. I’m sure it’s the role DI Appleby would give you.’
‘Of course, mate, leave it with me.’ He said as he stood proudly. I thought he might even salute me.
‘I’m so excited we get to examine a piece of evidence!’ Noah said with glee as soon as we got into the other room. ‘I was getting a bit bored keeping an eye on the suspects with PC Wood. I know he’s a policeman, but he doesn’t have a mind for investigations like we do. I kept telling him all my theories but he didn’t seem to understand them.’
I resisted chuckling to myself at the meeting of the minds that was Noah and PC Wood as I went into the phone. It was an IPhone, but a quite older, smaller model like an IPhone 5 or 6. I’d have thought Cherry may have had the newest version, but Kimmy and Claire had already suggested she was quite modest with money.
The first thing I went to check was the messages with Kimmy about the borrowed money. My brain works in a quite logical way, so rather than look for any juicier evidence of the affair, I wanted to see the messages I’d been told about.
Except they weren’t there.
‘You need to check WhatsApp, Facebook Messenger and Instagram messages, not just normal text messages,’ Noah said when I explained to him. I do have a WhatsApp group with Patrick, Kat, Alfie and Dylan but I wouldn’t have thought to check all the various forms of social media like Noah did, so I was glad to have him there.
Except Kimmy’s messages still weren’t there. Maybe Cherry had deleted them to protect Kimmy’s privacy.
Next, I looked at Cherry’s messages with Pedro. They were fairly regular, seemed happy and couple-ish enough, though in the last couple of weeks there weren’t quite as many. The only message that indicated any trouble in their marriage was one sent by Pedro last night:
9:23PM, PEDRO TO CHERRY: Cherry, my love, I’m sorry I don’t want to kick you out. Please come back. I will forgive you. I love you baby xxxxx
It was an IMessage between Apple phones and I could see it remained unread ‘til just now. There were also several missed calls from Pedro around that time and afterwards for the rest of the evening.
Finally, I looked at the messages with the only other recipient of her texts. The person was saved with several flower emojis instead of their name, though it only took me to read a few of them to identify them as between Cherry and Reverend Flowers, and that they were having an affair. However, it was the messages sent last night that particularly interested me.
7:12PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: Pedro knows. Talking now. Will message xx
7:54PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: He’s kicking me out. Can I come to you? xx
7:59PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: Hello? Xx
8:11PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: I’m on my way to Vicarage xx
8:14PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: Sneak out and meet me at bottom of West Chalk Cliff, at back of pub xx
8:15PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: It’s snowing quite heavy though, will be there ASAP. 8.30? xx
8:23PM, FLOWERS TO CHERRY: Can’t me
et now. Don’t come. Go somewhere else, will call tomorrow x
8:25PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: What? I’m nearly there. Come meet me xxx
8:32PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: I’m here. Come out xx
8:35PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: Come now or I’m coming to the Vicarage x
8:35PM, CHERRY TO FLOWERS: I mean it.
That was the last message in her phone. I showed them to Noah and he read them through too. ‘The place she wanted to meet is right where you found the body.’
I’d realised this immediately. ‘But it doesn’t mean he was the one to meet her there.’
‘Of course not,’ Noah replied. ‘Pedro could have followed her and been the one to kill her, then sent a fake text afterwards to cover his back.’
Again, this had occurred to me too. ‘But Pedro couldn’t have killed Frances, he has an alibi. And we don’t know the full crime scene details yet, or even when Cherry died.’
‘But Reverend Flowers could have killed Frances.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I know I keep talking about a big plot twist but sometimes there isn’t one. Sometimes it is just the obvious person.’
I didn’t know, something still didn’t feel quite right. But I didn’t get much chance to say anything further.
‘Edward, mate, I made it! The snow plough is almost through, but I got through the last bit on foot.’ DI Appleby was covered in snow almost from head to toe, and looked both freezing and tired. But he had a big grin on his face; he was thrilled to get through and join the action. ‘What’s the latest then? Wood told me you’re looking at the phone. Any evidence?’
I passed him the phone and he read the chain of messages quietly. When he finished, he looked up with determination on his face. ‘I think this is pretty clear, mate, don’t you?’
‘It seems it,’ I conceded. ‘We need to talk to Reverend Flowers.’
‘Talk to him?’ Appleby scoffed. ‘I need to arrest him.’
‘No,’ I disagreed. ‘I think you should question him first without arresting him, to see what he says.’
We heard a noise behind us and turned to see Reverend Flowers in the open doorway, with PC Wood behind him. ‘I tried to stop him bursting in, he wouldn’t listen.’
‘Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen. Thank you for trying to defend me, Edward, but I think we all know what needs to happen.’ He looked straight at Appleby. ‘I am confessing to the murders of my wife, Frances Flowers, and my mistress, Cherry McDonald. I will make a full formal confession on arrest.’
‘Very well,’ Appleby said as he stepped forward. ‘PC Wood, handcuff him please. Reverend Allan Flowers, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murders of Frances Flowers and Cherry McDonald. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’
Flowers didn’t speak again, he just calmly nodded his head. I watched in disbelief as they led him out of the room in handcuffs.
25
‘I told you, didn’t I, Edward? It’s always the husband.’
‘Yes, Mum, I suppose you did,’ I replied through a deep sigh. It was about 20 minutes after Reverend Flowers had been taken away following his confession, and we were all sitting in the pub: my family (including Noah and Dylan), Patrick, Becky and Kat, who was finally having a rest after all her hard work co-ordinating the snowstorm volunteers. After the shock we’d all had, Mum had even let Gloria back into the pub, although I noticed she was alone, whilst Kimmy, Claire, Pedro and Everest all had a table together. Pedro looked broken.
The rest of Appleby’s team had made it through shortly after he did, and Chalk Gap Road was finally clear for access in and out of the village. My part in the investigation was officially over: they had a confession, and now the police professionals could access the crime scenes properly, and get all the evidence they needed to hand over to the Crown Prosecution Service.
‘Let’s not forget the work our Edward did once again,’ Dad declared as he raised his glass. ‘I know the killer confessed, but it’s all thanks to our son’s hard work investigating, finding those messages on the phone.’
‘Anyone can read text messages on a phone, Dad,’ I said back to him, snapping slightly. I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t feel quite right. Things hadn’t happened how I’d expected them to, and it was affecting me. I wasn’t sure if it was the sense of anti-climax that a confession had ended my investigation, rather than me unmasking the murderer. Secretly, I’d enjoyed (though that feels like the wrong word when there are deaths involved) the sense of achievement in solving a murder previously; it’s no secret that anxiety has stopped me from achieving many of my goals, and this had given me a bigger sense of purpose than I’d ever had as a school librarian.
‘No, buddy, your dad’s right,’ Patrick said. ‘The police couldn’t get through, and you stepped up and did their jobs for them.’
‘We’re all proud of you,’ Alfie added.
‘Course we are,’ Mum chipped in. ‘And Noah too.’ He beamed at this.
‘Thanks, everyone,’ I managed. They all meant well, and they always had my back.
‘I just can’t believe it’s Reverend Flowers,’ Kat said. ‘He was always so nice, whenever he did fundraising with the school. And his position too. Oh, and his poor son. What will happen to him? I wonder if the school can help somehow.’
‘He’s 18 though,’ Patrick pointed out. ‘I’m not sure if that will make a difference.’
‘Yes, it might do,’ Kat agreed. ‘I’ll speak to one of the police officers in a moment and find out what’s happening to him.’
‘I’ve not even seen him around since, poor kid,’ Mum said. ‘His dad killing his mum and his mistress, he won’t know what to think.’
‘You’d think you’d have to be a good person to be a Vicar,’ Becky said with her hand in Patrick’s.
‘He was a good person, he was a decent bloke,’ Dad said.
‘I’m not so sure, love,’ Mum chipped in. ‘I never trusted him.’
‘Come on, love,’ Dad said to her. ‘He was, you just didn’t like him because you could never get in with that group and the market stuff.’
‘Yes, it is odd, with his group of women always round him,’ Dylan said.
‘He liked controlling them all,’ Mum said, determined to be right.
‘There was more to that group than meets the eye,’ I replied to her.
Yes, I understood how Flowers could be viewed as controlling, and had even glimpsed it myself. His relationship with his wife certainly had question marks around it, even without the affair; leaving her alone after the fight whilst taking the other ladies to the Vicarage was very odd. And the affair itself, which we had mobile phone evidence of, didn’t suggest a good Christian man.
And finally, of course, he’d confessed to the murder. That should have been case closed. But something didn’t sit right. I remembered how Reverend Flowers acted on his doorstep, and how pensive he was walking back to the church hall. And when he confessed, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something that just didn’t sit right. And then something dawned on me.
‘Are you okay, son?’ I heard Dad asking. I realised I’d not spoken for a good minute, deep in my thoughts.
‘No, not really,’ I found myself replying, still in a daze. I started to stand up. ‘Noah, can you come with me please?’
‘Yes, of course! But where?’
‘Edward, what’s going on?’ Mum asked, looking confused, as did everyone at the table.
‘Noah and I have work to do,’ I said in reply. ‘I don’t think Reverend Flowers did it.’
‘But he confessed,’ Dad pointed out.
‘I know he did, but I think he’s innocent. The Reverend didn’t murder anyone, and I’m going to prove it.’
26
‘The wrong culprit twist, what a shocker!’ Noah said as he followed me through the snow across the square. ‘I should have realised that wasn’
t the end of the story. There’s no way the murderer just confesses and that’s it. The detectives have to reveal the real murderer, that’s how it works!’
Okay, so my declaration in the pub was perhaps a tad dramatic, and it had resulted in Noah following suit by getting over excited about all his murder mystery stuff, with us as the triumphant detectives. But I had a strong determination to clear the Reverend’s name and reveal the real culprit. Looking back, it seemed strange that I knew as strongly as I did there was more to the story, as I wasn’t even sure of the facts when I said that. I just knew it wasn’t as simple as Flowers’ confession. I just knew it.
‘Where are we going, anyway?’ Noah enquired as he struggled to keep up with me. ‘Most people we need to speak to are in the pub.’
‘One person isn’t,’ I replied as I reached where I wanted to go and called out the name of who I needed to speak to. ‘PC Wood.’
‘Hello, mate,’ the young policeman said, as he broke himself away from his colleagues at Cherry’s crime scene. ‘Everything’s getting sorted now, I’m glad we’ve got back-up to do everything officially.’ He smiled sadly. ‘Mind you, it seems a bit of a shame everyone else is here now, I enjoyed doing our bit.’
‘So did I,’ Noah said with his typical enthusiasm. ‘But it’s not over yet.’
What’s he talking about?’ Wood asked, looking puzzled.
‘I need your help with a few things,’ I said, looking round to check his colleagues were out of hearing distance. ‘But I need you to keep it between us for now, not to tell DI Appleby.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ he replied, looking nervous. ‘I’m not in the habit of doing things like that.’
I’d started to like Dean Wood. He was naïve, got things wrong and still had a lot to learn, but he was a good, honest, loyal policeman. Which was why I knew he’d be the right person to help. ‘Look, DI Appleby asked me to help originally because he trusts me. And I need you to do the same. I need you to trust me. I think there’s a murderer still out there, but if Appleby’s going to believe my theory, I need to get the evidence I need first. Which is where I want your help.’