One Way Ticket

by Evie Evans

  “Thanks for the warning,” I mumbled, pulling a shiny coin from my mouth and feeling whether the tooth was cracked or not.

  “It’s very lucky, to find a coin.”

  I rubbed my saw jaw. “Really?”

  “Yes, it means good luck for the new year.”

  “You have it,” I told him bad temperedly, shoving the coin at him.

  “It doesn’t work if it’s not in my piece.” He finished examining his cake. “I haven’t got one,” he sighed and slumped down on the desk again. “It means I’m not going to solve this case. I don’t have good luck.”

  “Don’t be like that, just because you didn’t break a tooth.”

  “What can we do? We’ve been through all the neighbours, all the associates, all the leads in the case, and we got nowhere.”

  “We’ve shown a lot of them couldn’t have done it.”

  “But we didn’t find who did.”

  “No, I can’t believe this process didn’t work,” I said, indicating the murder manual.

  “That’s not how policing works, it’s about instinct, hunches. Some people just have a natural talent for it. Has your aunt had any ideas?”

  “No. She’ll love it when she finds out I was arrested.”

  “That’s it, then. It’s New Year’s Day tomorrow and the chief’s back the day after. We’ve run out of time.”

  “What’ll he do, the chief?” I asked.

  “Probably shut the case down. We’ve spent a long time on it and haven’t gotten anywhere so… Obviously, it’s not the result I wanted.”

  “No.” It wasn’t the result I wanted either, Aunt June had been keen for this to be solved and not hanging over the expat community for ever and ever, but I couldn’t think what else we could do.

  “Look, I have to go to church tonight, with my mother…” Addi started.

  For an awful second, I thought he was going to ask me to go with them. I wasn’t sure which part would be worse, church or her. Short of any better offers, I’d agreed to spend the evening with Aunt June and Kostas at the club. That was something to look forward to.

  “…so why don’t we finish early?”

  “Good idea.”

  We packed up Tina’s case file and Addi grabbed the homicide manual.

  “Well, Happy New Year,” I said and gave him an awkward hug.

  “Happy New Year,” Addi replied sadly, and left.

  With the extra time off I decided to stop at the animal sanctuary and wish Frankie a happy new year. I’d neglected him over Christmas and I only hoped he would forgive me.

  To say he liked the carrots I’d brought him was an understatement, he practically ripped them from my hands and I had to move out of the way briskly as a number of his sharp eyed inmates came rushing over to join in.

  “You’re starting a stampede there,” Roger Bale laughed from the side of the pen.

  “Oh, hello. Just thought I’d bring him some carrots.”

  “Him?” Roger questioned.

  I took a small step back and had a look. Okay, I hadn’t noticed before that Frankie had some equipment missing.

  “Frankie’s a girl?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t sure how to feel about this news. Did it mean I wasn’t in love after all? To confirm how Frankie felt about it she reached up and gave me a lick on the side of my face. It was wet and very unhygienic and wonderful.

  “You’re not here to interrogate me again, then? I was worried when I saw you drive up,” Roger said.

  “No, sorry. How have things been?”

  He pulled a face. “Okay. It wasn’t much fun being held in the cells overnight, I can tell you. People have been giving me some funny looks since I got out.”

  “No, it’s not very nice in there, is it?”

  “I think it’s given me some street cred. I’m not soft Roger anymore.”

  “I never thought you did it, by the way. But it would have been better if you’d just told DC Markou how well you knew Tina in the first place.”

  “I did, I told him we were friends. Yes, we met for a drink in the pub sometimes but that doesn’t mean it was a sexual relationship. He read all that into it. Men and women can be just friends, you know. You’re friends with the detective, aren’t you?”

  “True.”

  “Look, I was about to give them their feed, want to give me a hand?”

  Would I? “Oh, yes,” I told him and followed him to a series of sheds in the corner. After we’d distributed the surprisingly heavy hay into the troughs, we stood watching with satisfaction as the donkeys tucked into their unappetising meal.

  “It would be good if you could catch this murderer though,” Roger told me. “I’d rather people didn’t give me sideways looks for the rest of my life. Any chance of a result soon?”

  “Um. I’m not allowed to say much, but it’s not going well. Sorry.”

  “That’s a shame. It was a bad business.”

  “Yes.” I hoped I hadn’t said too much.

  “I thought it was funny when Tina was ill before.”

  There’d been something in the notes about her having an illness some time before her death. It was the argument Addi had used to claim the attacker could have been any size, he’d reckoned Tina’d been weakened by her illness. We hadn’t actually looked into what had been wrong with her.

  “Yeah, I’d heard about that. What did she have?”

  “Some kind of stomach virus, I think.”

  “Sounds nasty.” But innocent.

  “Yes, if that’s what it was.”

  I gave him a look. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I didn’t hear of anyone else having it. Not even her sister who was staying with her at the time.”

  “Right.” Thoughts were running around in my mind, none of them very clear. “So what are you saying, exactly?”

  Roger suddenly busied himself winding up the string that had held the hay bale together. “Me? I wasn’t saying anything.”

  “Yes you were.” I placed a hand gently on his arm. “Tell me, it might be useful. You want this cleared up.”

  He turned to look at me. “I just think it’s suspicious that she’s the only one to get ill just before she’s murdered a few weeks later.”

  “And her family were staying at the time?”

  “Yes. I rang her up but her sister answered the phone and said she was too ill to talk. Something mighty strange going on there.”

  “But why would her sister want her dead?”

  Roger started tidying up again. “That I don’t know. But her sister was fine, didn’t get ill at all, and that sort of thing’s meant to be very contagious.”

  After a final cuddle with Frankie, I headed home to get ready for the disaster that was bound to be New Year’s Eve at the community hall, wondering if we’d let a murderer slip through our fingers.

  26 Rat Trap

  What can I say about that evening at the community hall? Unfortunately quite a lot. I obviously didn’t drink enough as almost every cringeworthy detail was crystal clear in my memory the next day - Aunt June and Kostas smooching away to ‘Lady Marmalade’, Henry Blodgett, the notorious bottom pincher, catching me unawares in the corner (a surprisingly painful place), and, worst of all, having to slow dance with an amorous seventy year old with loose dentures. As far as New Year’s Eves go, it wasn’t my best.

  Aunt June had clearly had a whale of a time though and was in a great mood the next morning, singing a medley of Carpenter’s hits as she tidied up. “Happy New Year darling!” she cried as I surfaced, unable to lie in bed listening to her murdering ‘Close to You’ any longer.

  “Yeah, whatever,” I waved at her.

  “Oh dear, gotten out of the wrong side of bed, have we?”

  I followed her into the kitchen. “No, ‘we’ haven’t. It’s just a bit early to be so jolly.”

  “It’s 10.30.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Don’t forget, Kostas is coming roun
d for lunch...”

  “How could I?” I whispered under my breath.

  “…so you’ll need to get yourself ready soon.”

  The doorbell saved me from having to respond and, whilst Aunt June went to answer it, I availed myself of the last cup of tea in the pot. Imagine my surprise when Aunt June retuned with, not only Helena in tow, but her son Michalis also.

  “Chronia Bolla!” they chorused from the kitchen doorway.

  “Yes, great,” I told them as I tried to hide my Winnie the Pooh pyjamas and bear head slippers behind a hand towel.

  “We’ve just come to bring you a piece of New Year’s cake.” Helena deposited a wrapped up lump on the table. “It’s very lucky.”

  “We’ll enjoy that, won’t we?” my aunt asked.

  I automatically rubbed the place on my jaw that was still throbbing slightly from the last ‘lucky’ cake I’d eaten. “Lovely, thanks very much.”

  “She likes any sort of cake.”

  I shot Aunt June a black look.

  “It’s never too early in the morning for her, is it, dear? Go on, tuck in.”

  “Aunt June!” I began but they were all looking at me, expecting me to sample the cake. I broke off a small piece and put it in my mouth, giving it a once over with my tongue for silver coins first. “Mmm,” I said loudly, “lovely.”

  “You don’t normally nibble,” my aunt laughed. “You should see her−”

  “Aunt June!” I said firmly. “I’m sure our guests don’t want to hear about that. Does anyone want a drink?”

  “Thank you but we’d better go, let you get your breakfast. We just came to wish you Happy New Year.” Helena said.

  “Yes, Happy New Year−”

  “−Happy New Year.”

  After we’d Happy New Yeared each other to death, Aunt June showed them out. By the time she got back, the cake Helena had left had been carefully reduced to a few crumbs. Luckily, there’d been no coin this time.

  “Thank you for showing them in when I’m standing here in my pyjamas,” I complained, running my finger round the plate to pick up the crumbs.

  “You should get up earlier then. Don’t tell me you’ve eaten the whole thing.”

  “I needed a pick me up.”

  Aunt June plonked herself down at the table. “What’s wrong now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Well, you’ve got a face like a wet weekend.”

  “You know how to cheer someone up, don’t you?”

  “Tell me what’s wrong, then. Are you missing home? It’s only natural, this time of year.”

  “There’s nothing natural about home this time of year, or any time of year, you know my mother.”

  “True. Elizabeth was always a… strong personality. Does she still have that mania about tidying?”

  “Oh yes, her house has to look like neat as a pin at all times. That’s why it’s so relaxing being here.” My aunt raised her eyebrow at me. “Not that I’m saying your house is messy,” I added quickly.

  “So what is making you miserable?

  “It’s this case at work,” I admitted with a sigh. “I think we’ve made a right hash of it.”

  “Tina Lloyd? What’s happened?”

  “Nothing, that’s the problem.”

  “You’re not going to find Tina’s killer?”

  “Why did you think at the start it was Tina’s sister?”

  “I don’t think they got on that well, her sister always looked down on Tina. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t a little jealous of her sometimes, though. One thing you can say about Tina, she knew how to have a good time with life. I thought her sister had an alibi?”

  “She does but… Do you remember if there were any stomach viruses going round the middle of September? Like that winter vomiting thing.”

  “A bit early in the year for that, the clue’s in the name.”

  I gave her a look.

  “No, I don’t remember anything going round then.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What’s this got to do with Tina’s murder? You think her sister’s the one who did it?”

  “That’s my feeling.”

  My aunt crossed her arms with a look of satisfaction. “The others at the club won’t believe it when I tell them.”

  “You can’t say anything!” I almost shouted. “Not to anyone. It’s just a theory.”

  “No, of course not. Not until you’ve arrested her. Of course not.” My aunt got up and started fetching vegetables from the cupboard. Her eyes were gleaming. ”I must get this lunch started or we’ll be eating at teatime.”

  “Is Kostas staying over again?”

  “No, I’ve got to go out, my Train Appreciation Society has a meeting tonight.”

  “There aren’t any trains in Cyprus.”

  “I know. That’s why we appreciate them so much.”

  I’m sure that made sense somewhere.

  Later, when I’d left the two of them alone, my aunt’s typically loud whisper to Kostas, “Guess who Tina’s murderer is?” travelled to me in the next room, and I realised the extent of my mistake. Again.

  By the time I got to work the next morning, the rumour had already spread far enough to reach Addi.

  “Have you heard what people are saying about Tina Lloyd‘s sister?” he asked, coming into my office twenty minutes after I’d arrived.

  “No?”

  “They’re saying she was the one murdered her.”

  “Really?”

  “You haven’t heard anything? I’d have thought your aunt would have, she’s well connected.”

  “Nope, she didn’t mention anything.” I couldn’t help noticing this lying business was getting awfully easy.

  “I’d better let the chief know, see if he wants to do anything about it.” He shook his head. “I expect I’ll have to go up there to talk to her again.”

  Just at that moment Vara, newly returned from leave, opened her desk drawer, and almost passed out from the smell of week old vomit. Now would be a good time to get out of the office.

  “I need to speak to you first,” I said, dragging Addi outside. I’d actually had an idea that morning in the shower.

  “What?”

  “I’ve thought of something−” I started before Vara appeared in the doorway.

  “What has been going on here?” she asked, “Somebody has done something disgusting in my drawer.”

  “Is it an evidence bag that leaked?” I suggested, weakly.

  “No. Look.” She was holding the drawer.

  I tried not to wretch. Addi took it out of her hands and threw it out of the window.

  “Hope there wasn’t anything valuable in it,” I commiserated as it smashed onto the ground below.

  “The instructions for the filing system,” Vara said, looking pleased.

  “Things are looking up.”

  As she moved over to the window to stare out at the remnants, Addi nodded at me and we left.

  “Right. What was I saying?” I asked when we arrived on the path outside.

  “Hmm,” he uttered nonchalantly, looking down. I had at least expected him to look interested.

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  “My mother,” he said morosely.

  This wasn’t exactly news. “What’s she done now?”

  “She’s trying to fix me up with this girl.”

  “Ah.” I joined him leaning against the outside wall. “What’s she like?”

  “Controlling, telling you what to do all the time, what to wear, where to go.”

  “Are we talking about the girl or your mother?”

  He didn’t look happy. It seemed like this needed the sensitive touch.

  “For Christ’s sake!” I started. “How old are you? Are you going to just stand there and be pushed around?”

  “No, I’m going to sit down for it,” he mumbled and dropped down to sit on the path. This was a bit more serious than I thought.

  “You’ve got to j
ust tell her no,” I told him, more gently.

  “It’s easy for you to say.” He started to pick at some blades of grass between the paving stones, reminding me of a small child.

  “Alright then, marry the girl.”

  A whine sounded from his drooping body. I wasn’t entirely sure which part it had emanated from.

  “So start standing up for yourself. I think you should tell your mum if she carries on, you will be forced to move out, and do it.”

  “I don’t know if I could live on my own.”

  Looking at his sad little face, I wasn’t convinced he’d cope either. “Then move in with someone else. There must be someone looking for a flatmate.”

  He gave me a hopeful look.

  “Don’t look at me. Aunt June’s house only has two bedrooms. I mean try the classifieds. Leave a few of the adverts lying around at home to show your mum you’re serious.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “I’m sure that’ll make a big difference. Anyway, do you want to hear my idea or not?”

  I was pleased to see he sat up a bit straighter. “Yes.”

  “I think we should get Tina’s sister down here, question her properly. Maybe there is something in what everyone’s saying. Let’s face it, we’ve been through everyone else. And you need to look into Tina’s illness before her death. Find out what was actually wrong with her.”

  “Alright, but how are we going to get her sister to come in? She’ll never agree to it. She’s always refused to come here.”

  “Which is suspicious in itself, isn’t it? Most people would make the journey if their sister had been murdered. I know there isn’t anything to arrest her on but it would be good if we could get her in an interview room. She’d be more vulnerable away from home, more likely to crack under interrogation.”

  “But how?”

  “We tell her you’re releasing Tina’s belongings and get her to come and collect them.”

  “That load of old rubbish? She won’t come for that. There’s nothing worth having there, probably not even any sentimental value.”

  “Not the way we make it sound, she’ll be on the first bus down.”

  “How?”

  “I haven’t spent the last few months typing up all those bogus insurance claims for nothing…”