Tainted Teacup

by Michelle Busby

  “That’s … that’s great. I’ve lived here all my life. But to me, it’s just a place. Not a bad little town, though ... most of the time. I’ve never met anyone from Ireland. We don’t get all that many visitors here from other countries.”

  “Pity. It’s such a lovely part of the states.”

  “Usually. When people aren’t dropping dead,” Henry said, dissolving into dejection.

  “Henry, you know what? My mind is so boggled with what happened the other day. It’s like I was in a dream or something. Maybe you can help me remember what went on,” Tommie said.

  “I know what you mean. I didn’t see much,” he said.

  “I remember seeing you eating in the gazebo with Beverly Cantrell on Monday just before Coral and Charles came in,” Tommie prompted

  “Yes, Bev and I had made a date to have lunch there because the weather has been so nice.”

  “Why, Henry,” she remarked, “I didn’t even know you and Beverly were dating.”

  “Oh, well, sure. It hasn’t been long, but yeah.”

  “And you and Coral, were you very good friends with her?” Tommie asked with a sympathetic expression.

  “Um, I guess so. We just worked together, you know? Not much more than just colleagues.” He shifted from foot to foot, reluctant to talk anymore.

  Finbar took over. “Ms. Watson tried to tell me about the tragedy, but she’s awfully confused, poor woman. What the devil happened on Monday, Mr. Erving? D’you have any idea how yer coworker would be killed or why?” he asked.

  “How would I know? I was eating lunch in the gazebo, like I said, with my girlfriend. I saw Coral and Charles walking to Watson’s together, and they went in together.”

  “Would that be Mr. Charles Williams from next door? He and yer lady friend were together?” Finbar asked.

  “Yeah, him. I guess they’ve been seeing each other. I don’t know. Not my business what she did with her spare time or who she carried on with. Anyway, I was with Bev when Coral died. We came over when the EMTs pulled up to see what was happening.” His tone was belligerent. “I wasn’t anywhere near her all day.”

  “Henry was kind enough to try and clean up her spilled tea and broken cup,” Tommie offered.

  “That’s a good lad. You must’ve liked yer Ms. Beadwell well enough.”

  “I liked her fine, but we weren’t dating. I went to the gazebo because the weather was nice. That’s all. I wasn’t stalking her or anything like that. We just worked together,” Henry insisted.

  “Sure. Sure. I understand. How long had you worked together?” Finbar asked.

  “I started working here in 2009. Coral came on the job about 2012.”

  “And I suppose you were her supervisor?”

  Henry was quiet for a moment. “No, she was mine.”

  “She was? D’you mean they promoted her over you? That’s a load of rubbish, and you having worked here longer. That would make my teeth grind. Surely you had more experience and seniority,” Finbar goaded, clucking his tongue.

  “I wasn’t too happy about it; I can tell you that. And Coral could be a bully sometimes ... a lot of the time. That’s how she got the promotion over me. She pushed her way into it. I’m more capable than she ever was,” Henry retorted.

  “Sure. Sure. I can tell yer a smart and capable man. Women can be that way,” he said in a hushed voice. Tommie ambled around the store and pretended not to hear, letting Holmes take the lead with Henry.

  “Yes, they are. I don’t know what I ever saw in Coral, to tell you the truth. She wasn’t nice to me at all.”

  “Tried to emasculate you, did she? I’ve seen that with women bosses. They get you interested and then dash you down without a care about yer feelings.”

  “You’re exactly right. I gave her a Christmas gift at the annual party this year, and do you know what she did? She threw it in the garbage and laughed at me in front of the other employees. She could be a spiteful, wicked witch.”

  “Without a doubt. Yer right lucky to have gotten together with Miss Cantrell. She’s much better for a lad like you. And, d’you have the manager position you deserved now?”

  “I do. And Bev’s a great girlfriend,” he said.

  “Yes, I’m sure she is. She’s well put together. Was she friendly with Mrs. Beadwell?”

  “I don’t think they had any problems, except Bev’s been nice to me, and Coral made fun of her behind her back.”

  “That doesn’t seem very sporting of her. Did she not get on well with others?”

  “She was difficult. She was a lot nicer to Bev than she was to Charles, though. I thought she despised him, and it seemed like the feeling was mutual, but then she goes and meets him for lunch on Monday. I just don’t get it,” Henry said, looking miserable.

  “Right. Well, sorry to make a short visit, but Ms. Watson is showing me about town, and I’m on her schedule. We must meet at a local pub for a pint one of these days, but first, maybe you should see a doctor. You seem tinn go leor—Quite unwell,” Holmes said, ushering Tommie out the door.

  “Boy, did you ever get him talking!” she said.

  “If you know what buttons to push, you’ll always get a prize. That one has more to reveal that can only be got with loads of strong drink. I’ll have a go at him in on Saturday, if he’s recovered. Shall we now visit the real estate ogre and his ogrette partner?” he asked.

  “You bet,” she said, and they walked next door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Floral Real Estate served the entire county of Floral, which included Floribunda, Cottonton, Cypress City, and Greenleaf. As the sole owner, Charles Williams received the commissions for all the properties sold by the office, regardless of which agent made the deal. He collected the full amount of the commissions and paid the agents a fixed percentage. Charles himself handled all the commercial listings, and Beverly Cantrell handled the property management leases. At present, there were no additional agents in Floribunda, but he retained an agent in each of the other offices in Cottonton, Cypress City, and Greenleaf.

  The gossip through the tea-vine was that Charles was a player, and Beverly had been one of his interests at one time. Their relationship was over, but her status as second-in-command at the real estate office was somehow quite secure. As it happened, they were both in the office when Finbar and Tommie arrived.

  Charles hurried to shake Finbar’s hand and offered him coffee, but Holmes declined. He settled Tommie into a chair and took one himself. Beverly perched on the edge of another chair, and Charles leaned against the front desk.

  “Welcome, Mr. Holmes,” Charles said. “I’m glad to see you’re getting out and about in our little town. Ms. Watson, it’s so considerate of you to drive him.”

  “Yes, she’s quite the peach,” Holmes said. “I wanted to come by, Charlie, and tell you that I’m very pleased with the property on Camelia Street.”

  “I knew you would be,” Beverly said. “I told Charles it was perfect for you, and you know, if you enclosed that front porch area and put a cased opening between the dining rooms, it would make a nice four-bedroom two-bathroom house.”

  “No, I’ll not be doing that. I like Ms. Watson well enough, but we don’t want to share housing quarters, not being a romantic couple, you understand.”

  “Ah … oh … I didn’t mean. Well, I just thought that you might want to … I seem to have misunderstood,” she stammered, her face flushing.

  “Jeez, Beverly. Just shut up,” Charles growled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Holmes. I don’t know what she was thinking. She tends to run off at the mouth sometimes.”

  “Not at all. It’s quite understandable. I’ve decided that the one side is more than adequate for myself and Sherlock, now that I’ve finished making the necessary interior improvements to bring it up to standards. Ms. Watson shall stay in her own unit, and I will have improvements done for her as well to make her part of the home more livable.”

  It was Charles’ turn to flush. “More livable, huh?
I see. Well, this is an historical town, and many of the homes are older. We can’t make improvements for all our renters. It’s nice that you were able to buy the property and can have them done,” he said.

  “Thank you. Ms. Watson’s situation, with her tea shop in limbo, was a factor in letting her keep her home,” Finbar said.

  “Oh, really? That’s really quite hospitable of you, Mr. Holmes,” Beverly said. “Would you like me to draw up a leasing agreement for the two of you? I have a standard form that would work. While you’re both here, you can go ahead and sign it. We will be glad to manage the details,” Beverly offered, getting up from her chair and teetering on her heels to the file cabinet behind the desk of the front office.

  “That won’t be necessary, Miss Cantrell. I can make up a Tenancy Agreement for Ms. Watson to sign once we agree on the terms. But, thank you for offering. That’s very kind of you,” Finbar said.

  “Well, congratulations Ms. Watson. I guess now you won’t be needing any of the fine rentals that I was keeping off the market for you,” Beverly said. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

  “No, but thank you anyway,” Tommie said.

  “By the way, Charlie. I understand you were in the tea shop when that dreadful business happened with the woman,” Finbar said to Charles.

  Charles regarded him, opening his little beady eyes as wide as he could manage. “Yes, I was there. It was a terrible thing. I told you this is an old town. I’m afraid the dishwasher in that shop is probably not as updated as it should be. When so many people are spreading their germs around on cups, there’s bound to be sickness.”

  Tommie was silent, fuming at the insult, but smart enough not to take the bait. She let him blather on.

  “And then, forgive me Ms. Watson, but nobody can really be sure what’s in those herbs you make the tea from. I’m a coffee drinker. It’s hard to mess up a drink made from coffee beans unless you use sour milk. Am I right, Mr. Holmes?” Charles said with a sneer.

  “I can’t really say I agree, Charlie. I hear there are people who drink an insanely expensive coffee called kopi luwak that’s made from coffee beans which have gone through the intestinal tracks of Asian palm civets. They say it’s a delicacy. I say, ‘rubbish.’ I’ll not drink coffee that’s come from an animal’s arse! How about you?” Holmes asked.

  Charles grimaced, a distasteful expression on his face.

  “I’m curious, Charlie. You say you’re a coffee man, yet you were having tea in Watson’s with Ms. Beadwell,” Holmes said. “Was there a friendship or a romantic relationship there?” He winked and gave Charles a leering grin.

  “No!” Charles exclaimed. “I have no relationship at all with Mrs. Beadwell.”

  “With Ms. Beadwell, you mean?” Holmes asked. “Ms. Coral Beadwell.”

  “That’s what I just said,” Charles insisted. “I just happened to walk over there with her.”

  “For tea, did you?”

  “No. We were just talking. She had tea.”

  “You had tea, too,” Tommie said in a quiet voice.

  “I only ordered it to throw you some business, Ms. Watson. I didn’t dare drink it,” he countered sarcastically.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because I don’t drink tea, and who knows what’s in that stuff you concoct,” he stated flatly.

  Beverly Cantrell had been sitting in the office chair behind the desk, watching the interchange uneasily. Finbar turned the conversation to her.

  “Is that true, Miss Cantrell? Charlie and Ms. Beadwell just happened to walk in together?” Finbar asked.

  “Well, yes, I suppose so. I came out before Charlie … I mean, Charles did.”

  “I see. Did Charlie and Ms. Beadwell not come into the shop with you?”

  “Oh, no, I came in before them. I got a couple of cold drinks and brought them back to the gazebo. I had a lunch date with Henry, you know.”

  “Yeah. She just about broke her neck running out there when she saw him at the gazebo,” Charles sneered. “Grabbed her lunch and took off like a bat outta hell. I couldn’t imagine what the big hurry was, so I walked outside and saw Henry hunkered down behind a post. That’s when Coral came over to me, and then we just walked on over to the tea shop with her flapping her yap nonstop.”

  “You should be careful running in them high heels, Miss Cantrell. You could break yer pretty legs,” he said, making her giggle. “I’ve just met yer Henry Erving. He’s a lovely man. Yer boyfriend, is that right? Seems like a good fellow,” Holmes said.

  “He is. He’s a wonderful man.”

  “Been together long?”

  “We … uh … no, not very long,” she fumbled.

  “Yes, he told me about how that Ms. Beadwell treated him. Led him on something shameful.”

  “She did. She was so mean. She didn’t deserve his attention,” she said, her face getting red again.

  “No, she did not. It’s good fortune the two of you found one another. I’m very happy for you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Holmes. You’re a nice man.”

  “You know, it makes me wonder if Coral was hateful to other people. Not just Henry. I heard she had a reputation as a bully. Did you like her, Beverly?” Tommie asked. She seemed genuinely interested.

  “Not really. I didn’t dislike her, but I didn’t like her either. She had a nasty temper, or so I was told, and she was very mean to Henry, throwing away his gifts and engineering that promotion like she did.”

  “I heard about that. Did you like her, Charles?”

  “Take her or leave her. She was just the lady from the UPS Store next door. We didn’t socialize,” he said.

  “She must not have been very good at her job.”

  “What makes you say that?” Charles asked.

  “Well, one day I saw her yelling at you on the sidewalk. You were holding a package that looked like it was torn apart. She should’ve had better customer service than that, don’t you think? It was her responsibility to report all damage to packages to the main office so they could deal with the negligent courier.”

  Instead of agreeing with her, Charles became angry. “Why don’t you mind your own business, Ms. Watson? What were you doing, spying on me? I haven’t done anything. It was just a package.”

  “No, I wasn’t spying. I just noticed the two of you when I was cleaning tables in my shop. I don’t think she should’ve been yelling at you like that.” Tommie’s face was the picture of innocence.

  “For crying out loud, Charles. She wasn’t attacking you. She was only sympathizing. Get off your high horse before you say something stupider,” she barked. Then, remembering Holmes was in the room, she softened her tone. “Oh, we are all just so upset about Coral Beadwell. It’s a wonder any of us can have civil conversations. I’m so sorry, everyone. I hope all this will resolve itself soon. Mr. Holmes, Ms. Watson. Thank you so much for coming in and letting us know we can release these other rentals to the public.”

  “Yes, and if there are any other Floribunda properties you’d be interesting in purchasing, Mr. Holmes, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll be more than happy to take you on a tour around town to see them, and we can talk man to man,” Charles said.

  “I’ll do that, Charlie,” Finbar said.

  “It’s Charles,” Charles said under his breath as he opened the door for them.

  And with that, Tommie and Finbar were dismissed and left Floral Real Estate.

  Chapter Fifteen

  First Bank of Floribunda was just two blocks over from the real estate office, but it required driving in a complete square to reach it. Tommie took a right off the diagonal one-way Lantana Lane where they were parked and turned onto Oleander Street. Then, she took another right onto Coreopsis Road to Mimosa Street where the bank was located. Leaving the car in the parking lot between the First Bank of Floribunda and the Historic Floral Bank, she and Finbar walked around on the sidewalk and entered the bank. When the Historic Floral Bank was turned into
a museum, all the accounts and the contents of the safe deposit boxes were relocated into the new building. Architecturally, it lacked the beauty of the historic building and was basically a modern utilitarian structure. The only other bank in town was the Floral County Savings and Loan on Quince Street, so the locals split their business between the two.

  Finbar and Tommie hoped Don Lareby and his sisters would be available, and as luck would have it, they were. The three of them had cubicles in a shared office space with a window, and they were all at their desks without customers.

  “Hi, Don. Hi, Susan. Hi, Elaine. I’ve popped in to introduce you to somebody who’s just moved into town,” Tommie said, giving them her most dazzling smile.

  Don stood and walked to his door opening. Susan and Elaine got up and propped their arms up on the low upholstered walls of their cubicles. Their motions were simultaneous and mirrored one another.

  “This is Finbar Holmes. Mr. Holmes, this is Don Lareby,” she said.

  “How d’you do?” Finbar said, shaking Don’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you. I detect an accent,” Don said.

  “Right you are. I’m from Dublin, Ireland.”

  “Oh, Ireland! How exciting,” Susan said.

  “Finbar, this is Susan Clay,” Tommie said, indicating the woman in the left cubicle.

  Finbar shook the woman’s extended hand.

  “And this is Elaine Frank,” Tommie said, indicating an identical woman in the right cubicle.

  “So pleased to meet you both. Such beautiful lassies. Might you be sisters?” Finbar asked.

  Susan gigged, and Elaine emitted a similar sound.

  “How could you tell?” Elaine asked.

  “Oh, but ‘tis like I’m surrounded by lovely spring flowers,” he replied, a flirtatious air to his voice as he thickened his accent.

  Both women seemed to swoon. Tommie noticed they were wearing similar dresses with floral prints. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “What brings you to Floribunda, Mr. Holmes?” Don asked, ignoring his sisters’ antics.

  “I wanted a warm climate to bask in the sun, and the name caught me eye and ‘twas musical on me tongue. So here I am in the midst of all this flowery magic,” Finbar said, his voice lilting.