When I was done, we headed over to Patricia’s house. It looked the same as when I walked past it the last time, and I wondered if she was lonely now that he was gone. Even if he was a cheater, she’d lived with him and now there was a void that wasn’t easy to fill.
Eleanor rang the doorbell and pasted on a smile before the door even opened. I imagined she had to fake smile a lot around Patricia Woodsbury. Something I wouldn’t be doing.
Patricia answered the door after a moment. Her light hair was styled, and her makeup not too heavy. Her outfit matched her shoes, and she looked like she was ready for a photo shoot. It was probably the reason she was so popular. Women looked up to her because she reminded them of a perfectly put-together life. Not that she had one, but because she appeared to have one.
“What a lovely surprise,” she said without smiling.
“We just wanted to express our condolences,” Eleanor said. “We wanted to give you some time to adjust first. I hope we’re not intruding.”
“Not at all.” She stepped aside to let us in.
The corridor smelt as sweet as her perfume. I managed to keep my expression neutral even if I was vomiting on the inside. We went through to the reception area which held a fireplace and expensive cream-coloured furniture. There wasn’t a spot of dirt to be found anywhere. I had to say I was impressed.
“Please, sit. I’ll fetch us a spot of tea.” Patricia disappeared into the hallway and left us to admire the antique vases displayed in all corners of the room. She had paintings up as well. I didn’t recognise them, but they were gorgeous and looked expensive.
We sat down just as Patricia returned with three cups and a plate of biscuits. There were only three of them. The humanity.
“How are you doing?” Eleanor asked with a heavy dose of sympathy.
“It was dreadful, as you can imagine.” She narrowed her eyes at me for some reason.
“Yes, of course.” Eleanor grabbed a cup of tea and sipped it. “It must have been a huge shock.”
I knew Eleanor wouldn’t say too much about it, because of the curse and the implication that he was a cheater, which I already knew he was. Eleanor also wouldn’t pry because she considered it rude. But that wouldn’t stop me, and that’s why she’d brought me along, the wily woman. Though married to a vicar, she was still human. She wanted as much information as possible herself, not as gossip material, but simply because she was curious.
“Did you know that he invited us—me and Nancy—to discuss something with him?” I asked.
She lifted her head ever so slightly as if to remind me that she was literally looking down at me. “Not at the time, but afterwards Alistair told me.”
Alistair? I clenched my jaw.
“Calm down, girl,” Detective Black said. “Keep her talking.”
“Do you have any idea what it could have been about?”
“Not at all.”
“Had he visited that hotel before?”
“No,” she said coldly.
“They have done it up nicely. It’s a beautiful place.” I grabbed a biscuit. When Patricia didn’t reply, I said: “Have you been?”
“No, and I doubt I will.” She sipped her tea. “How’s your husband?” she asked Eleanor.
The next minutes consisted of idle chit-chat, but I was willing to play along. She didn’t like these questions, probably because she knew I was investigating the murder. But if she knew that and was playing hard to get, didn’t that mean she had something to hide? Although she didn’t seem like the type to share information about herself anyway.
After an appropriate pause in the conversation, Eleanor excused herself to go to the bathroom and left me alone with the bubbly Patricia.
Crickets might as well have chirped. She refused to make eye contact and continued sipping her tea. But I was not easily deterred.
“I really am sorry about Victor. He seemed like a good man.”
She glanced at me. “I appreciate that.”
“Do you really have no idea who would want to do something that awful to him?” I asked, my voice soft.
“You mean to me, don’t you? He’s dead, it doesn’t bother him anymore. I’m the one who has to go on without him.” There were some cracks of emotion in her self-made mask.
I said nothing.
“But if you must know, I think you should look at the hotel.”
“Because of the curse?”
“No,” she said, frowning. “Because of those newcomers. I don’t trust them. Besides, why—of all places—did he invite you over to that ghastly hotel?”
I had wondered that as well. Perhaps I could find out more about Mr and Mrs Field.
After a few moments Eleanor returned and when the biscuits were all finished—by me—we left. Patricia saw us out and shut the door after a ‘toodeloo’ which sounded so cavalier that it didn’t match the type of conversation we’d had at all. She was definitely a woman who was good at hiding what she thought and felt. Something she actually had in common with Susan.
“Do you think she’s the killer?” Eleanor asked.
“I don’t know. I’m sure the police have looked into that.”
“I heard she had an alibi.”
“From whom?” I asked.
“I’m pretty sure from her. Well, not directly. She told Olivia and she told Poppy—”
“I get the picture,” I said, holding up my hand. “But we have little to go on when it comes to her. Perhaps Mr and Mrs Field know more about it. I mean, it is weird that he booked a room at the Pembroke just to speak to Nancy and I.”
“Maybe he was depressed and wanted to talk about that,” Eleanor said.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “What makes you think that?”
“I may have gone upstairs to check out the medicine cabinet.”
“Eleanor!”
“Well, I had to do something while you were asking her questions. Anyway, the pills were for him, not her. There was also hemorrhoid cream. That could have been for her.” She giggled.
“This is not funny,” I said in a stern voice.
“No, quite right.” Then she giggled again.
I smiled. “She needs the cream because she has a huge stick up her—”
“Honey,” Harold called. He pushed his wheelchair over the cobbled streets with relative ease. He had a lot of practice, after all, having lived here for most of his life. “I need your help at the church. How’s Patricia?”
We looked at each other.
“Fine,” we said simultaneously.
“Okay,” he said with a puzzled look. “And how are you, Maggie? Finding Victor must have been a terrible shock.”
“It was, but I’ll feel better when I catch his killer.”
He nodded slowly. “Just be careful. This is someone who is obviously very perturbed.”
“Yes, it is.” Which is also why it was important we figured out who it was.
WHEN I ARRIVED AT THE bookshop, I had the intention of going up to read and possibly even write, but instead Eddie came running after he poked his head out from behind the curtain. The closest he usually got to exercise was opening the fridge, not that I was judging him.
“We caught the sounds of a ghost on the equipment,” he said, panting with excitement.
“I’m telling you, there are no ghosts, spirits or other curse-related beings in that hotel.” We were starting to catch the attention of a few customers, so I moved us to the corner.
“When we played it back and isolated the sound we had heard, it was a clear woman’s voice.”
“And what did this woman say?”
“Justice.”
“Justice?” I muttered. “How lame.”
Eddie scoffed. “Don’t ridicule the serial killer ghost. She might come after you.”
“Better strap a hoover on my back then.”
“Okay, don’t you dare mock that film.” He pointed at me.
“They’re the ones mocking themselves.” I pointed back at him. “And
how do you know it’s a ghost?”
“It has to be. It sounded a bit muffled and strange, but powerful.”
“And now what? Will the ghost hunters ask the spirit to have some tea with them?” I asked.
“No, they’ll just tell Mr Field what they’ve concluded and leave.”
“They’ll leave? So basically they’ll just tell someone they are haunted and then just leave them with that information?”
Eddie tilted his head as he thought about this, then nodded.
“Well, that’s kind of awful. Not that Mr Field has that problem, because it’s not a ghost.”
Eddie put his hand on his hip. “Really? Have you heard the voice recording? How do you know?”
I grinned. “Actually, I might be able to prove it. I have a plan.”
“I’D LIKE TO BOOK A room for one, please,” I said to Mr Field that evening.
He raised an eyebrow at me.
“A—are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve always wanted to stay in the Pembroke Hotel. It’s so beautiful. Besides, I’m experiencing writer’s block and a change of scenery will do me good, even if it’s only one night.”
He forced a smile. “I hope so.”
After he made me sign the ledger and handed me the key to my room, 109, I made it up the stairs with my backpack. I had brought pyjamas, but I had no intention of sleeping. Tonight I’d be sleuthing.
Chapter 11
The room was spacious and clean. It had white and golden accents, and the bed was large. Normally I would be thrilled to stay in a room this beautiful, but it reminded me too much of the room that Victor had been in. Even if the layout of this room was reversed. I threw my backpack on the bed and started unpacking my torch and lock pick set. In addition to that I’d also brought small ziplock bags that could function as evidence bags, and though I probably wouldn’t need them, it made me feel like a detective.
Detective Black chuckled on the opposite side of the king-sized bed.
“What? I like to be prepared.”
“Did you also bring a magnifying glass and handcuffs?” He raised his dark eyebrows as he grinned.
I scoffed. Yes. “Don’t be silly.”
“What exactly is your plan?”
“Have a drink downstairs, see what Mr Field is up to. Find Mrs Field and ask some questions. I’d really like to go into Mr Field’s office, so I’ll wait until everyone is asleep and snoop around.”
“What if you get caught? What if he has cameras? What if you can’t get into his office?”
“He doesn’t have cameras outside of his office. I doubt he has them on the inside. If I get caught then I can just say I’m sleepwalking. I’ll be in my pyjamas. Besides, I doubt he will be awake at three AM. And if I can’t get into his office, well, at least I’ll have tried.”
“This would be so much easier if you were actually a detective.”
“Would it? I couldn’t snoop around if I was. I’d be restricted to interviewing people only. And people have their guard up around the police. They’ll be at ease around me.”
There was a knock on the door, and I froze. Eddie had gaming plans with Brian so that left Mr Field. What would he want?
“To murder you?” Detective Black said. “Maybe you should take a leaf out of your aunt’s book and grab a kettle.”
“Ha-ha,” I muttered as I sauntered over to the door. “Who is it?”
“A certain detective,” Alistair said.
I glanced back at Detective Black, but he was already gone. Before opening the door, I checked myself in the mirror.
“Hi.” I smiled innocently.
He narrowed his eyes at me and stepped into the room. His gaze immediately travelled to the torch and lock pick set. “Planning on a relaxing stay?”
“Yes, I wanted to try out their poison and see what the fuss was about.”
His jaw clenched. “Don’t joke about that. What the hell do you think you’ll gain by staying here?”
“I just want to relax here. That’s all. No biggie. How did you know I was here?”
“I overheard Eddie at the pub. And if you’re planning to relax, why did you bring a lock pick set?”
“I always bring that. You never know when you might need it in a cosy English village with a maniacal chicken.”
He folded his arms.
Perhaps I could use my feminine wiles. I started walking towards him, smiling, but my heel caught on the carpet, and I stumbled forwards. Right into his arms.
“Enjoy your trip?”
I chuckled. “Sorry, I guess I need to work on my walking skills.”
“You should also work on your listening skills, but I doubt I can say anything that will make you go home.” He was still holding me.
“No, sorry.” I smiled. “You smell nice.”
His pupils dilated.
Someone knocked on the door. “Did you bring DC Daniels?” I asked.
He laughed. “No, he’s got his knitting club tonight.”
“Really? Hm. Good for him.” I answered the door.
Several women spilled through the door. I stepped back in surprise. It took me a moment to realise it was the Castlefield Book Club. They all wore hats and sunglasses. Nancy wore a fake moustache.
Alistair grunted.
“Hi, Alistair. Here to help our Maggie?” Poppy asked.
If looks could kill.
“Alistair,” Lily purred and sidled up to him. “What a lovely surprise. You know my daughter has recently split up with her husband—” she started.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Nancy.
Eleanor answered. “Eddie told Nancy you were coming here and we want to help with the investigation.”
“Yes, we can be your eyes and ears,” Olivia said. “Besides, there’s nothing on TV, and Stanley is at the pub. We’re bored.”
“Until I get a new order of miniature furniture, I can’t work on my new dollhouse, and it’s driving me crazy. Let us do something,” Phoebe said.
“I just came because I wanted to wear my new hat.” Jessica struck a pose.
Ava lowered her sunglasses. “If we help solve this murder with you, we can make the local newspaper. That will be good for my new business.”
“You’re starting a new business?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m planning on selling mugs with mugshots on it. People can upload their photo and it will generate a mugshot. Then you simply choose a colour, and you have a mug.”
“I’d like one. How much are they?” Poppy asked, and she already took out her coin purse as she counted pennies.
“Twenty pounds.”
She put her purse away. “Never mind.”
“So can we help?” Nancy asked. “It’s me, Nancy. I’m wearing a disguise.”
I kept from laughing. How could I tell them nicely that they were about as useful as a bag of porcupines at a balloon party? They were lovely people, but not exactly subtle. “Why are you wearing disguises?”
“Sherlock Holmes used them all the time,” Lily said as if I’d just asked the most ridiculous question ever. And here I thought we’d bonded during the last book club meeting.
The door was still open and just then Mr Field passed with a trolley of whiskey glasses and a cheese platter. “Oh, hello ladies. Are you having a book club meeting here? Enjoy.” He disappeared out of sight again.
I raised my eyebrows at Lily who cleared her throat and slowly removed her sunglasses.
Still, if I truly wanted them out of the way, I had to give them something to do. Even if it led nowhere. I shut the door. “If I remember correctly, there’s a library on this floor. I want half of you guys to scour it for any books on this property itself. If you find anything, let me know. The other half should stay in the lounge, grab a drink and talk to people who were here Friday. They’ll probably be eager to gossip, so try to get as much info as you can.” It was possible those people had already left, but the point here was to keep them busy.
The women chatted excitedly and started making groups. After several moments of quibbling, everybody was happy, and they left the room, their disguises still on.
Nancy was the last to leave and turned around. “Remember,” she said to Alistair, “she’s very single.” Then she shut the door.
I laughed. “I think I need a drink.”
“Yeah, me too,” Alistair said.
The mini fridge was half-empty about an hour later as we sat against the bed. The women hadn’t returned yet, but I figured they’d be having fun. They weren’t the kind of women who’d do anything against their will. I liked that about them. Growing up around them meant that I had learned something from each and every one of them.
“So you’re telling me,” I said, “that instead of reading or watching TV, or even playing video games, your hobby is to perform magic tricks? Do you wear a cape for this? Do you have a bunch of bunnies because you can’t put them back into the hat?”
“No, they’re just fun tricks that I sometimes use to baffle people.”
“Like what?”
He sat up straighter and put down the small bottle of vodka. From his breast pocket he grabbed one playing card.
I started laughing.
“Hey, keep an open mind, will you?” He handed me the card. “Rip it up.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
He looked particularly sexy when he grinned. “Yes, I’m sure.”
I ripped the card in half and then again.
He took the pieces into his hands and folded them over each other. Then he blew into his hands and opened them again. The pieces were gone.
I looked around on the floor and on my lap, but they weren’t to be seen. “How did you do that?” My head felt fuzzy from the alcohol, as if it was filled with cotton balls.
“Look in your pocket,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.
Prelude to Poison Page 8