Enigma of Fire

by Marilyn Leach

  Berdie rang off. She felt an odd mixture of gratitude that the bait was taken so easily, but it was tempered with loathing and a touch of fear for Hugh’s safety.

  “Well done, Mrs. Elliott,” Chief Inspector Kent commended. “Not an easy thing to do. I daresay they don’t sound as if they suspect anything.”

  Berdie gave a quiet nod. “That’s it then, everything and everyone in place.”

  “Now, don’t worry, love,” Hugh added. “It’s a brilliant scheme, and it will all go like clockwork.”

  “I just want you safe, Hugh.”

  “And you’ve promised to stay out of the situation entirely, no heroics. You’re nothing more than a hidden spy.”

  “Witness,” Berdie corrected.

  “You stick to that. Let Chief Inspector Kent and the others do their jobs, and I’ll be fine.”

  “Besides which,” Kent threw in, “if there’s a hitch, the Yard will have my guts for garters, and that is not going to happen.”

  ****

  The small kitchen lamp which stood atop the collected stack of cookery books on the counter gave just enough subtle light to see what was happening. Berdie peeked through the tiny crack of the utility-room door that opened to the vicarage kitchen.

  Tillie had just brewed a very special cup of chamomile tea, for Hugh, no doubt, when the back door quietly opened and a figure, dressed in black, slid silently in.

  Berdie caught her breath.

  The entrant observed what was happening. “Hello, Tillie.”

  The young woman nearly jumped out of her skin. She put her hand to her chest. “You gave me a turn. I didn’t hear you knock.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have.”

  Berdie focused to keep her breathing quiet and even.

  “Why are you here, Chad?”

  “I thought you’d appreciate a little help, Tillie.” He smiled.

  “Help?”

  “Hugh, you know, taking care of Hugh.”

  Tillie rubbed her hand on her denims. “I’m doing just fine.”

  Chad moved closer to the young woman. “Come now, Tillie. I’m talking about taking care of Hugh.”

  “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

  Chad looked Tillie up and down, then grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and rubbed it on his T-shirt, which made his strong abdominal muscles beneath noticeable.

  Berdie could see Tillie’s body relax.

  Chad leaned against the counter’s edge and took a bite of the red fruit. His tall, fit body seemed suddenly alluring and his dark eyes held a distinct magnetism.

  “You helped me. In fact, I need to thank you. You did me a big favor, actually.”

  “Did I?” Tillie leaned against the counter. “How’s that?”

  “Although you didn’t finish the job.”

  Tillie dipped her chin and lifted her eyes. She took a step toward Chad. “What do you mean?”

  Chad took another bite, chewing slowly, keeping his eyes on the young woman. “You made him suffer, you tore his life apart, but the commander survived. Still, his world’s in ruins, so well done.”

  “Chad, you naughty boy.” Tillie’s voice was velvet. She took another step toward him. “You’ve got a bit of apple, just there.” She slowly slid her finger round the edge of his bottom lip and wiped the offender away. “Go on.”

  Chad didn’t flinch. “Though it pleased me that the old fool got what he deserved, you didn’t get what you actually wanted, did you?”

  Tillie was close enough to Chad that he reached out and took her by the arm, then drew her close. “You and I are cut from the same cloth, aren’t we, Tillie.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Berdie could just make out a low rumble of amusement that exploded into laughter from Tillie’s mouth.

  She leaned into Chad. “I knew you, but I didn’t really know you. Not until the picnic lunch. You’re not just a pretty face.”

  “Why a bomb?” he breathed.

  “Why not?” She moved her lips alluringly close to Chad’s face. Just as she did, he placed the red fruit to his mouth and took another bite.

  Tillie pulled her arm from his grasp. Her eyes narrowed and she stepped back to her former place at the counter’s edge and stared into the prepared tea.

  “Tell me, Tillie, what gives you more pleasure? To dominate men or get away with murder?”

  Berdie took a shallow breath. Be careful, Chad. Remember, softly, softly.

  Chad tipped his head. “Such a beautiful woman and such a lust for vengeance.” He set the fruit down. “Are you going after Hugh because of your father’s injury?”

  Tillie ran her fingers through her long hair. “If you think that’s all it is, you’re more stupid than I thought.”

  Chad lifted his chin. “I know how the commander ruined my chance for a decent career, a decent life.”

  Tillie pounded her fist on the counter. “Poor baby Chad. A decent career? What about maiming, death, destroying a family?”

  Tillie yanked her scooped neckline downward, exposing her chest and the deep red scar that ran cross it, baring it for Chad’s eyes. “A little souvenir from Daddy. Crazy mad one night, he thought I was the enemy and tried to slice me open.”

  Berdie squeezed her eyes shut and held back a gasp. I thought as much. She steadied her gaze again on the sad, sick figure of Tillie Devlin. Berdie fought her instinct to enter the fray.

  “Ouch. That had to hurt.”

  “In so many ways. How many times did we huddle under the table, in fear for our lives, while my father wielded a firearm to attack the nonexistent enemy outside our door?” Tillie swallowed hard. “You’ve no idea.”

  Chad raised a brow. “Or maybe I do.”

  “And did you lose a brother?”

  “Brother?”

  “Marty, my little brother. My mother kept me with her. But she sent Marty away, for safety’s sake, to stay with a mate of his from school whose single mum, unfortunately, drank too much. We didn’t know. Neither of the boys had proper care.”

  Tillie looked wistful, eyes distant. The corners of her mouth sagged.

  “Marty and his mate began to sneak out of an evening to run the streets.” She took a deep breath and brought her eyes back on Chad. “He was struck by a car while chasing after his mate in the road. Marty died instantly.” She looked away. “Probably a mercy in the circumstances.”

  Chad shifted his weight.

  Tillie reclaimed the spoon to make rapid swirls in the chamomile tea. “Of course, my mother couldn’t deal with it. She had precious little backbone at the best of times. I have to say she tried, but in the end the poor cow took solace in the arms of another man and left us.”

  “So it was all down to you. You had to nurse your father back to life.”

  Berdie watched the woman knit her brow, let go the spoon, and face Chad straight on.

  “I’m the father. He’s the child.”

  Berdie felt a cold shiver up her spine.

  “How’d you make the bomb?” Chad appeared unaffected. “You should have asked me for help.”

  “Oh really?” Tillie crossed her arms. “Don’t be idiotic. I couldn’t trust you.” She smirked. “If you must know, it was Kabil who was my supplier. We met when Avril first took up with him. He was into dark doings of all sorts. A shameless few moments of pleasure with him, and I got all the materials I needed.

  “Lure him in, then blackmail for what you wanted?”

  “A lot of men from his part of the world love blondes.” She twirled a strand of hair in her finger.

  Berdie’s stomach churned. Off comes another layer of the onion.

  “Oh yes?”

  Berdie could just see the jut of Chad’s chin. He was doing his best to maintain composure while Tillie went on.

  “I felt bad for Avril; I really did, well, for about three minutes.” Tillie dropped the hair strand.

  “Cloak of Deception, that’s where you learned to build the bomb. But you didn’
t learn very well, did you? I mean, it didn’t do the job properly. He’s still alive.”

  Tillie’s face went red. “You trying to wind me up?”

  “Yeah, maybe I am. You look good in that shade of pink.”

  Berdie wondered if Chad was pushing too hard.

  But Tillie half scowled, half grinned. “Cheeky beggar.” She leaned her back against the counter. “Actually, I was quite upset it was the commander who got it. I know what you think of him, but I rather liked the old boy. Had no idea he’d have that vile dog with him. Still, it bothered me at first, but then…”

  “Bothered you that the commander got it, or that Hugh didn’t?”

  As if struck with her failure, Tillie’s face darkened. She turned, stiffened, and seized the spoon from the teacup, then hurled it headlong into the kitchen wall with such force it sounded like cannon fire.

  Chad clucked. “Now, steady on, Tillie.”

  “Don’t steady on me, Chad. He made the call. The day of that ruinous hailstorm, Captain Hugh Elliott destroyed the father I knew and left me with a burned-out husk.”

  “Point taken,” Chad spoke calmingly.

  Tillie let go a long sigh.

  “I know Doug has the occasional bout with depression and can be hard to deal with, but he’s certainly more than a husk. He’s gotten much better. Not trying to do you in anymore, is he?”

  “And I’m supposed to be grateful?”

  Chad didn’t respond.

  “My father never blamed Hugh, you know. Said it wasn’t anyone’s fault, things happen in war. Truth was: he had no bottle left in him.” Tillie let go a quick breath. “So I had to take the responsibility, do the dirty work, to make Hugh pay.”

  “Like an avenging father would for a child. I know all about harboring the lust for revenge.”

  “Yes, I believe you do.”

  Reel this venomous woman in, Chad. Reel her in.

  “You making tea then? I’m thirsty.” Chad reached out for the cup Tillie had just made, but she placed her hand to shield it.

  “No,” she boomed.

  Chad rocked back and grinned. “Ah. For Hugh, I presume.”

  Tillie looked at the golden liquid and didn’t respond.

  “Just a few too many painkillers perhaps? Say, enough to put him permanently to sleep?”

  Berdie watched Tillie smile.

  The young woman, as if a penny had suddenly dropped, caught her breath and glared at Chad. “Hang on. You know too much.”

  Berdie froze.

  “What do you mean? You know what they say about great minds.”

  Tillie turned her head to one side.

  “They think alike, that’s all,” Chad asserted.

  She regarded him thoughtfully for a few seconds. “Get yourself a cup, and I’ll make some tea for you.”

  “Not with the same ingredients as Hugh’s, I presume?”

  Tillie’s mouth bloomed into a half-smile. “Presume, if you wish.”

  Berdie strained to see Chad step to the cupboard, never turning his back. But for the instant he swung the cabinet door open, it blocked the view between him and Tillie, and Tillie moved quickly. Silently, she pulled out a knife from the large jug that held cooking utensils near the range, drew it down, and held it closely alongside her leg.

  “My dear Lord have mercy,” Berdie breathed.

  Chad closed the cupboard door, cup in hand.

  Berdie couldn’t bear it. She had promised Hugh to stay protected, but this was deadly. Tillie was poised to strike.

  Berdie had to do something, anything. Chad could take care of himself, but she had to warn him. How? What could she do? Seconds felt like hours.

  The utility room was just feet from the back door. The element of surprise? Berdie wrapped her hand round the utility-door handle, then made a fist with the other and beat upon the inside of the utility door, rapidly, several times. Band, bang, bang. In her best baritone voice, she shouted out the first words that jumped into her mind. “Vicar, special delivery. I need you to sign, please.”

  Berdie cringed. Special delivery? It had gone past ten.

  A pounding raged, and it wasn’t her fist. A miracle? She rapidly realized, a miracle all the same, there really was someone at the back door.

  It burst open. The door smashed violently against the kitchen wall. Berdie caught sight of a black streak, a leather lead dragging after and an unidentified hand working to keep hold of it. The streak bumped a kitchen chair and came to an abrupt halt.

  “Sparks?” What’s he doing here? He’s certainly adapted to his cast quickly!

  A clatter resounded on the floor. A glint of metal was just visible at Tillie’s feet. The knife.

  Sparks launched into a barking tirade.

  Tillie’s scream nearly shook the roof. She grabbed Chad’s arm. In desperation, she pushed him forward and wedged herself between him and the counter.

  Chad grabbed the first thing he fingered on the kitchen counter. He thrust Berdie’s summer canapé tray forward as a shield. “Get back,” he shouted at Sparks, “back.”

  Berdie gasped.

  There in the open doorway stood Milton Butz, legs spread, determination on his adolescent face. Avril was behind him.

  “Sorry ’bout this,” Milton apologized to Chad and Tillie. “He’s a bit frisky tonight, getting his zip back,” he announced buoyantly. He picked up the lead and held it taut. “Sparks, heel,” he bellowed, but Sparks continued his exited tirade.

  “Get him away from me,” Tillie screamed.

  Avril drew her hands to her mouth, wide-eyed.

  An adolescent youth and fragile young woman were not a part of this evening’s plan. Though Tillie’s knife attempt was apparently thwarted, more needed to be done.

  Berdie wrapped her fingers round a nearby broom. Sorry, Hugh. She yanked the utility door open. Lord have mercy on us all.

  She leapt into the kitchen, broom at the ready, as if to sweep the frightful dog out the door. She stood back from the animal and motioned Avril to come stand behind her. The bewildered girl obliged.

  “You!” Tillie screamed at Berdie.

  Sparks lunged toward Tillie, but Milton held the dog steady.

  “Mrs. Elliott,” Milton announced with loud shock in his voice, “this place is certainly all go tonight.”

  The rumble of advancing feet and the impending reach of the law could clearly be heard.

  Tillie struggled to pull away, but Chad pushed his back into her and held her captive, squeezed between him and the kitchen counter.

  In an instant the whole of the kitchen swarmed with uniformed police, Chief Inspector Kent in the lead.

  Milton’s eyes became large as dinner plates as Sparks barked at the commotion. “Blimey.”

  “We’ll take over now.” Kent jabbed his index finger toward the back door. “Get that dog outside.”

  “Sparks, heel,” Milton trumpeted. This time, the canine yielded. Both were soon out the door.

  Berdie returned her broom to an upright position.

  A policeman grabbed Tillie, who flung herself about as she tried to wrestle free.

  “No,” she screamed.

  A second constable grabbed hold from behind, while a third one held Tillie’s wrists together and applied the handcuffs he pulled from his belt.

  “What’s happened? Why are they taking Tillie?” Avril asked. Bafflement etched her face. “What’s she done?”

  “Evil” was all Berdie uttered. “Avril, we need someone to mind Sparks and Milton in the back garden until the police can speak with everyone. Would you, please? Milton can manage the dog. Don’t be frightened.”

  Avril still stared at Tillie.

  “Please, Avril? Outside?” Berdie knew the time would come for explanation, but not now.

  The girl nodded and left out the door.

  Tillie’s angry gaze fell upon Berdie. “You wretched witch, I s’pose this comes down to you.”

  Berdie held the broom steady and straightened
. “Though my broom is at hand, no, it’s not true. I’m not a witch. But allow me a moment to tell you what is absolutely true.” Berdie pulled her shoulders back. “Your father has more bottle than you’ll show in a lifetime. He has forgiven everyone for all that has happened. He’s understood the complexities of life on this planet, good and bad. That’s why he can move on in his life, why he is moving on in his life.”

  Tillie’s upper lip twitched.

  “The real hero takes where he is and makes the best of it. Your pathetic revenge can’t change that.”

  “How dare you.” Tillie struggled against the restraints.

  “Killing Hugh won’t bring your father’s health back, nor your mother, or brother. And it certainly won’t give you peace. Letting go, Tillie, that’s where peace lies.”

  “I’m tired of listening to your rubbish, you interfering cow.”

  Berdie eyed Jasper Kent.

  “Matilda Margret Devlin. I’m arresting you for the attempted murder of Commander Cedric Royce.”

  Tillie, hair disarrayed, still struggled against the constable that held her in tow.

  A uniformed officer poured the tea from the cup prepared for Hugh into a special laboratory container.

  “And the attempted murder of Reverend Hugh Elliott, by the look of it,” Kent went on. “You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you say may be given as evidence. Do you understand the caution?”

  “Get stuffed,” Tillie snarled.

  The constable grappled her from the kitchen to the hall, headed for the front door and the awaiting police car that would take her away.

  Berdie was wrenched by a concern for Tillie and relieved that Hugh was safe, all in the same moment.

  “Well said, Mrs. Elliott,” Chad cheered. “That rubbish sounds familiar.”

  Chief Inspector Kent shook Chad’s hand. “Mrs. Elliott said you were the man for the job. We could use someone like you in our organization.”

  “Thank you. I may take you up on that.”

  “Good work all round.” The chief inspector was matter-of-fact. “Though we hadn’t counted on company.”

  “Yes, I must apologize,” Berdie offered. “I hadn’t counted on that either. Avril’s been staying over with her father at hospital. I hadn’t any idea she was coming in this evening. Milton or Sparks either.” Berdie perked. “But it seems to have helped our scheme. I think we owe a certain debt of gratitude to our four-legged friend.”