Dip Pens, Descendants and Dirty Deals

by Emily Selby

  Katie cleared her throat. 'That’s Michael's phone.'

  Jack glanced at her. 'Are you certain?'

  Katie reached to the screen. Her hand brushed on his arm and it sent a subtle tingling all over her body. She forced herself to focus again. 'The wooden case, and the crack in the top corner. Get him to show you. He's quite fond of his phone case.'

  Jack rubbed his chin again. He watched her for a few seconds carefully. Then he nodded.

  'Michael Bower. So, it runs deeper than just planting the vials. Someone clearly has a bone to pick with our Michael.'

  'Why?'

  'I'm not sure. There seems to be a lot more that I can see. Layer upon layer. Obviously, some old stuff.' He tapped his finger on the screen. 'Zac killed Ash Stanley. What was Ash doing there? He's known in this area, pardon-me, was known, as someone who operated in the grey zone. Not entirely illegal, but not legal either. There were suspicions he was involved in the counterfeited goods trade. He's definitely had connections for that, his family has been in the business so to speak. This might have been one of their deals. That would make sense.' Jack paused his monologue and nodded.

  'And they're trying to frame Michael?'

  'Maybe. Or maybe not. We need to check those old documents. I'll ask the Bowers if they have the original document. What confuses me more, is that this email was definitely sent from Sunnyvale. I’m guessing a public space. Maybe a free Wi-Fi hotspot in the local cafe, your local library or wherever you have people accessing the Internet.'

  'The community centre?' Katie said, a sudden thought flashing through her mind.

  'For example. I'm sure this is a very clever criminal, trying to direct the attention to anyone and everyone in this town.'

  Katie tucked the annoying loose strand of her hair behind the ear and began twirling it. This was interesting turn of events. The criminal using public Internet access points...

  'Jack, something’s been bothering me since last night.'

  Jack looked at her, his eyebrows raised. He nodded. Katie took it as an encouragement to speak. She told him about Sofia entering the crafts room without the key.

  Jack listened with his eyebrows still raised. 'Was the door locked? Do you normally lock it?' he asked when she finished.

  'Yes, we lock it. But I think Miriam, our president was supposed to do it after the last meeting. Normally, she's pretty good with locking up after us, but she's been a bit distracted lately - some family problems. If you like, I'll ask her.' Katie said nervously pinching the hem of her cardigan.

  Jack's gaze followed her hands. He watched her. Being aware he was watching her tugging at the cardigan, made her do it more. She hated herself for it. She hated herself for not checking her facts with Miriam last night.

  'Why don't you give her a call now?'

  'Good idea!' Katie said, hesitated. 'But it wouldn't make much difference to the situation. If the door had been left open, anybody could have walked to use the club’s computer or the Wi-Fi.'

  Jack looked at her with a glimmer of what, admiration?

  'Good thinking, Watson,' he said, smiling.

  Lord, he had a cute smile.

  'I was thinking more about the safety of the equipment you keep in the room,' Jack continued. 'But as you rightly pointed out, either scenario doesn't make much difference to the murder investigation. It just means that anybody could have used it. Is your Wi-Fi hotspot the only one in the building?'

  'We have our own network, and there are a few more in the building. There is even a free Wi-Fi hotspot in the reception area. We can also use a laptop during the sessions. It’s specifically for our club.'

  'Is your network password protected?'

  'Yes. We restrict the password to our members, which means we keep the note with it in the room. Although we do change it every few months. The free spot in the reception is sort of password protected, but it's on the notice board. There are still people who don't have internet access at home and they come to the community centre to send emails and browse for jobs and things. The centre also runs IT classes for seniors.'

  Jack listened in silence, nodding. 'Just as I thought. Very clever. Difficult to track down. A smart criminal. Or an experienced one.'

  A chill flittered down Katie's spine.

  15

  Katie rang Miriam Fischer, as soon as she left the station. She told her about the incident with the door to the crafts room and Sofia.

  'Has anything gone missing?' Miriam asked, interrupting Katie's account.

  'Nothing obvious,' Katie replied. 'I haven't gone through all the stuff, but the polishing kit was all there. She used it by the way. Are you sure you locked the door?'

  A loud sigh Katie interpreted as mild annoyance made it through on the other side of the line. 'I think so. I normally do. But it was such a stressful evening, and I've got so much on my mind anyway, I can't be absolutely certain. That girl...' Miriam sighed again. 'I tell you, that Parker girl gives me the creeps. She's paid the fees, said all the right things, but I'm not entirely comfortable with her being around. Call me old fashioned, but to my eye, she's too smooth.'

  Katie's heart accelerated.

  'Do you know them?'

  'No, not quite my social circles, dear,' Miriam said.

  Katie chuckled, but quickly covered it with a cough. Miriam wasn't a person who used sarcasm, and a comment like this from her probably meant exactly the way it sounded.

  'I've heard about them from someone. Probably Dorothy. She knows the older woman.'

  'Yes. They used to live next door to Dorothy's parents.'

  'No. You're wrong. They used to live in that old house behind Phyllis'. The one that's such an eyesore.'

  Katie's jaw dropped. That was news!

  'Are you sure?'

  'Oh, I'm not sure of anything these days. You'd better ask Dorothy. Sorry, I've got to go soon, it's lunchtime and the shop is really busy.'

  Together with her best friend, Sunita Patel, Miriam owned a tearoom Une Tasse de Bonheur.

  'Sure. I just wanted to suggest we should change the locks ASAP.'

  'I'll ring Ally. Can you check in with her later today? I'm taking Julian to the doctor this afternoon. Not looking forward to it,' she added.

  'Will do,' Katie said 'What do you think of giving Sofia access to the polishing machine?' Katie asked carefully. She liked to give people another chance.

  'I'm always happy to see members of the club succeed at arts and crafts things.' Miriam was back in her president's role. 'And while I might have indeed told her she could use the room as any other member can, I'm not happy with her just walking in without letting anyone know first.'

  'I think she genuinely wants to work on her project,' Katie said. 'I do think, she should have gone about it differently. But maybe she had a bad day.'

  'Well, I agree with you, we should change the locks. Whether she broke in or simply walked in because the locks were not good enough, means that someone else might have done the same thing before or after her. I hate the thought of people just walking in and out of our room.'

  'I felt violated. It's as though nothing is safe anymore,' Katie said, her heart heavy. She thought about Jack's suspicions of the murderer using Wi-Fi in the community centre, but decided not to share it with Miriam, who had enough of her plate already.

  'Okay, we'll change the locks,' Katie said. 'If Sophia asks to be given access to the machine, I'll go with her. If I can.'

  Katie hung up feeling guilty about taking up so much of Miriam's time and attention. Miriam had been preoccupied with her husband's health lately. Julian's memory had been deteriorating and the recent events in the local parish council brought the extent of his difficulties to the surface. Sadly, Julian appeared to be in denial about his own health. Katie didn't envy Miriam her position. Getting stubborn Julian, who used to be one of the best accountants in town, to accept he needed help...

  Katie put a reminder on her phone to ring Ally Baker after her final shift at Willow Pa
rk.

  With the problem at least partially addressed, Katie wanted to satisfy her personal curiosity. She dialled Dorothy's number.

  'Katie, how good to hear from you, dear!' Dorothy said, warmly. 'Have you got access to your house yet?'

  'Still not, hopefully before the end of the week, but speaking of houses, I have a question for you. Actually two.'

  'Fire away.'

  'What is Chiara's maiden's name?'

  'Marino. Why?"

  Katie paused. She hadn't bothered to think of a cover story. Again. She really needed to get better at interviewing people. Particularly, if she wanted to mine for information unofficially.

  'It's linked to my second question and something I've just heard from Miriam.' She nearly gave herself a pat on the back. That was a good compromise between truth and lack of lie.

  'And what did Miriam tell you?' There was a hint of irony in Dorothy's voice.

  'Miriam said Chiara used to live in that old house behind Phyllis Dunbar. You know, the one next to the workshop I've inherited.'

  'That's right. Actually, if I remember well, the workshop used to belong to Chiara's father. Her mother sold it to William Dunbar after his death. Apparently, she had debts to pay off.'

  The whole situation was getting even more complicated. But Katie was not surprised to find yet another connection to William Dunbar.

  'So how come Chiara came to live next door to you?'

  Dorothy gave a big sigh. 'It's complicated. Why don't you come and have a cup of tea, or even dinner with me tonight and we can talk?'

  'That's a brilliant idea! I’d love to. Thank you.'

  Katie disconnected, thinking about the conversation with Dorothy on her way to Willow Park. The Marino family used to own the house mentioned in the document on Michael’s phone. The second name on the document looked as though it started with an M. But what was the connection between Stanley and Michael? Why did Michael have the photo of the document on his phone? And how did the person who sent the photo to the police gain access to it?

  The simplest explanation would be that Ash Stanley had taken a photo of the document on Michael's phone. Which would suggest that Ash Stanley and Michael had met. What for? To discuss the document? Or the house? Michael would have interest in the house, and the plot of land for sure. But it was the Marinos' house, why then talk to Stanley about it?

  Speaking of the Marinos - what was their role in it? And what was the real reason why the two women moved to Sunnyvale, given all the bad memories Chiara had of the place?

  The house behind the Dunbar's property–it was a ruin! Not worth anything, but probably knocking down and selling the land. Oh yes, given the location, the land would be worth a small fortune.

  There was so much to consider: complex relationships, complicated situations, and so many unknowns. Katie's head began to ache. She needed to talk it through with Dorothy. Not the details regarding the murders, but people's secrets. Dorothy might be able to clear away some of the fog.

  Dorothy was an interesting person and Katie was beginning to wonder how she’d never noticed it before. Dorothy had a real knack for saying things with deeper meaning. Katie needed to learn to listen better to people like Dorothy.

  But it was time to go to work. Katie slowed down to pull in front of Willow Park Nursing Home. There was a free spot right at the end of the car park with a familiar looking, silver Vauxhall parked next to it. The very sensible car of a very sensible police officer, Katie thought as her heart flipped. She might be able to share her new discovery with him very soon.

  But what was Jack doing here?

  16

  Katie walked into the building determined to find Jack and share her new discoveries with him.

  She marched across the hallway, passing by a nurse calming an elderly female resident who was sitting at the nursing station, crying. Jack was nowhere in sight, and Katie headed towards the lounge area. She picked up spilled magazines from the floor and put them on a table on the way.

  'Miss!' A young man waved at her from a nearby table, an elderly man in a wheelchair beside him. Katie, expecting something she couldn't solve, looked around the room, but the only nurse was still comforting the sobbing resident. Two more people in white overalls were at the other end of the hallway near the residents' bedrooms, looked busy.

  'Miss!' the man called again, a hint of urgency in his voice. 'I need help with my granddad. He wants to go to bed.' He pointed at the sleeping man.

  Katie approached the young man. Maybe she could help a little. 'I'm just a cleaner but let me see if I can help.'

  'Sorry to bother you. I would have taken him to his room, but I don't even know where it is.'

  'I'll get some help,' Katie said and walked towards the two staff members at the far end of the hallway. They turned out to be two health care assistants with the bed linen trolley. She explained the situation in the lounge and offered help with bed making.

  'You go, Kerrie,' one of the HCAs said. 'Are you a cleaner here? I'm Rosie.'

  'Yes, I'm a temp. I'm Katie.' Katie grabbed a pair of rubber gloves the other woman handed her.

  'Thanks for offering to help,' Rosie said. 'It's been a hell of a day, I tell you. There's some bad energy in the air. The nurses have been rushed off their feet with constant demands and the noise. A lot of people have had meltdowns today.'

  'What's going on?' Katie asked trying to focus on the information as well as on the job she was helping with.

  'Oh, there was this hoo-ha around one of the residents earlier on. Harold Bower. His son came in today fuming. The manager was involved. He wants to take his father out of the home. Apparently, he found a better place somewhere else.' The woman shook her head tutting.

  Katie blinked. What is the continuation of the scene she'd seen the other day?

  'Is Harold Bower moving out?' she asked.

  Rosie curved her brow. 'Yeah, right. But the old man doesn't want to go.'

  'Is he happy here?'

  'I think so.'

  'Mr Bower senior is certainly a man with his own mind,' Katie said.

  The woman seemed well-informed of the recent gossip and didn't mind sharing. Katie pushed on, cautiously sharing her own observations. 'I saw Michael the other day, shouting and complaining about the quality of care for his father here.'

  'Michael Bower. He's been complaining for the past couple of weeks. Bossing everybody around. He thinks he can get people to dance to his tune because he has money. The problem is'—Rosie paused and looked at Katie—'he doesn't. The old man still owns the company and Michael is just a manager. Michael hates it. He's trying to prove that Bower senior has lost his mind. But that's not what the doctor says. Catch this.' Rosie threw the other end of the bed sheet to Katie.

  Katie caught it. 'What does the doctor say?'

  'Oh, they use those fancy words - full mental capacity.' Rosie jerked her chin. 'Apparently, it means he hasn't lost it. And they have the papers to prove it. Everybody’s talking about it. Now, hold it tight, I'll pull.'

  Rosie guided her through the bed sheet pulling and stretching, until it was done-crispy and smooth like glass.

  Katie went through the moves, thinking about what Rosie had just said. If indeed, Michael believed his father had lost capacity to make decisions—unlike the doctor’s opinion—it was a problem. She could remember, from her family dealings with her grandma’s dementia, it was hard to challenge medical evidence.

  'If you ask me, 'Rosie picked up her train of thought. 'I think the old man is alright. My father worked for him and now my Darren does. The old man remembers them all, he remembers my name. Harold is a good man, but stubborn. A good boss, too. He looks after his staff. I think he should retire, and just enjoy his life, but he likes being in charge. He likes having money. He likes making deals, sometimes a little on the dirty side, but he likes to win.'

  'Is that why Michael wants him to retire?' Katie asked.

  'There is a rumour that ever since the old Bower
got sick, the company's not been doing that well. Oh, never mind.' Rosie paused abruptly, straightening her back and looking at the door. 'Now let's just throw that bedspread on. Give me a hand, Katie. I must say, you’re quite good at this.

  Katie smiled. She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Rosie interrupted, 'The bed's changed, Mr Crabtree can come back in for a nap'—she rushed to open the door wider—'Just in time, Mr Crabtree. Your bed is ready for you.'

  The second HCA pushed in a wheelchair containing an elderly man. The young man was standing behind them. Katie nodded to him and left the room. The info feast was over.

  But was this information of any use to anyone? She'd better find Jack and check it with him.

  She was in luck. Jack was standing in the middle of the reception area with his brown winter jacket neatly folded over his arm.

  'Morning, Jack,' Katie said cheerfully. 'You look lost.'

  'Hi, Katie,' Jack replied. Katie noticed a few fine lines on his forehead and a five o'clock shadow—unusual for him. 'What are you doing here?'

  'I work here, but why are you here?'

  'I've just talked to the manager,' Jack explained, with the look of relief on his face. 'I wanted to talk to Harold Bower, but I can't find him. I don't seem to be able to find a nurse either.'

  'They're having some sort of crisis today. But I know where Harold's bedroom is, it's the second one on the left, over there.' She pointed. 'Are you sure you have the official blessing to interview him?'

  He glanced at her and his eyes shot little silvery-blue bullets of what Katie interpreted as hurt pride. 'Do you want to see the official paper?' he asked, giving her a cheeky smile.

  'I didn't know you had an official paper,' Katie said, squinting her eyes. Had there been a dramatic change in the progress of the inquiry since she left the police station less than an hour ago?

  He shot her another smile. 'It's just a conversation. But the manager knows about it.'

  Katie was keen to share and crosscheck the information she'd just collected. 'Apparently, Harold Bower has capacity to make decisions and talk to whoever he wishes to, despite what Michael would have people believe,' she said watching Jack carefully.