A Sweet Murder

by Gillian Larkin

  Grace tutted. “You have a low opinion of me sometimes. Sneaky Sid, is that his name? He said I could have it.” Grace turned her back on Frankie and opened the van doors.

  “Just like that? I don’t believe you, he’s as tight as a ... well, I won’t say what. Did you steal it from him?”

  Grace looked over her shoulder and tried to look offended. It was hard to do so when she felt guilty for tricky Sneaky Sid, and for now lying to Frankie. “As I said, he gave me the chair. Are you going to help or just stand there?”

  Frankie picked the chair up and placed it in the back of the van. Grace’s breath caught as the ghost whooshed straight through Frankie and into the van.

  Frankie said, “I’m going into the office, Sylvester wanted to have a chat with me about something.”

  Despite his nonchalance, Grace could see the excitement on Frankie’s face. She said, “Take your time, I’ll wait here.”

  Frankie turned towards the office. Grace smiled as she watched him walk away, he had a definite spring in his step.

  With Frankie out of the way she could talk to the ghost. She climbed into the back of the van and pulled the doors closed behind her.

  The ghost was sitting on the chair again, she looked confused. “What happened to me? Just then, I was about to climb into the van but I sort of flew in. Did you see me? Did that really happen?”

  Grace’s scalp began to prickle, a feeling of unease settled in her stomach. She hadn’t dealt with this kind of thing before, the ghost always knew. How should she start?

  The ghost smoothed down her dress. She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a white paper bag. She opened it up and popped a red coloured sweet into her mouth – a ghost sweet?

  Grace sat down next to the ghost. “I know what those are, I’ve been eating them all morning.”

  The ghost grinned, Grace got a whiff of strawberry. The ghost said, “These are my very favourite. I love other sweets but I can’t live without my strawberry bombs!”

  “I think you can,” Grace replied without thinking.

  “Sorry? What do you mean by that? Now that we’re alone you can answer my questions. First of all, where are we? And what was I doing in that unit thing? Did someone put me in there for a joke? If so, it wasn’t a funny joke, I could have died!”

  The ghost laughed, Grace didn’t.

  Grace looked at the floor and tried to gather her thoughts. There really wasn’t an easy way to tell her. Mum used to say the truth sounded better in shorter words, especially if they were painful words.

  Grace looked into the face of the old woman, she had such kind eyes, eyes that probably twinkled when she was alive.

  Grace gently said, “You’re not alive any more, you’re dead.”

  There was a silence. Grace watched the woman’s face as confusion and then denial swept over her features. She burst out, “Don’t be silly! Of course I’m alive. You can see me, you’re talking to me!”

  “I can see ghosts,” Grace explained. “Think about it, no one else could see you. The man in the locker couldn’t see you and my brother, Frankie, the one who was just here, couldn’t see you either. You passed through his body when you came into the van.”

  “But I can’t be dead! I don’t remember dying, surely I’d remember?”

  “Maybe it’s a good thing that you don’t remember. Perhaps your brain, or soul, or whatever, is protecting you from bad memories.”

  Another silence. Grace could almost hear the ghost’s thoughts.

  Sure enough, the woman said what Grace was dreading. “Why would I want to protect myself from bad memories?”

  Grace steeled herself, this was harder than she thought. What she’d give for a strawberry bomb now to steady her nerves! But she could hardly tuck into a sweet at this moment.

  Grace said, “I can see ghosts and I help them, some of them have unfinished business. I’ve only been able to see them for the last year. The ghosts that I’ve helped recently have been ... murdered ... and I’ve helped them to catch their murderers.”

  The woman’s mouth fell open. She stared at Grace.

  Grace carried on. “The ghost are usually attached to an item, I think you’re attached to this chair.”

  The woman closed her mouth. She muttered, “Well, that’s a lot to take in all at once.”

  She sat back in the chair and took out another sweet. Grace took her opportunity and took out a sweet too.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, chewing away. Then the woman said, “I suppose it makes sense. I do feel peculiar, like my body is floating around me somewhat.” She sat up straight. “Who would want to kill me? And why?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out. It might take a while for you to remember. Can you tell me your name? I’m Grace, Grace Abrahams.”

  “Grace, what a lovely name. I can remember my first name, it’s Constance, I think people call me Connie. My surname, what is it now? Something to do with a bird. I think it’s ...”

  The van doors were flung open. Frankie stared in at her. “Grace, really? Hiding in the van and stuffing your face with sweets?”

  Grace glanced at the chair, Connie had disappeared. Grace stood up, she couldn’t think of a good reason as to why she was sitting in the back of the van eating sweets. She didn’t need to.

  Frankie said, “Enough about you, wait til you hear what Sylvester said to me!”

  Chapter 8

  Grace only half listened to Frankie as they drove back to the shop. He told her about how impressed Sylvester was with Frankie’s website, the site that linked to their shop. Apparently, Sylvester couldn’t get enough of Frankie’s blog entries, he thought they were hilarious and yet touching.

  Grace wondered how much of Frankie’s story had been embellished but she didn’t want to burst his bubble. She nodded at the right moments and looked interested, as interested as she could whilst still thinking about Connie.

  “And then guess what he said?” Frankie enthused.

  “Goodbye?”

  “What? No! Well, at the end he did. He asked if I wanted to help him at an auction! Me! With Sylvester Sylver! Can you believe it?”

  Grace frowned. “That’s great, Frankie. Do you want me to drive? You don’t look as if you’re concentrating.”

  Frankie waved a hand at her. “I can drive with my eyes closed. Sylvester wants me to stand at his side when he’s doing an auction and make notes about who buys the lockers.”

  “Isn’t that what his assistant does?”

  “Yes, but Sylvester wants me to work with him in the office too, he wants me to see how the whole storage locker business works. You know the sort of thing, who rents the lockers, the checks they have to go through, why people stop paying for the lockers. Sylvester thought it would make a good blog post.”

  Grace looked out of the passenger window. That could be interesting, she’d wondered herself why people stopped paying for the lockers. Maybe she could find out why Connie’s locker had come up for sale. Although, how she was going to ask Frankie to find that out for her was a problem she couldn’t think about just yet. She turned back to Frankie. “I think this is a great opportunity for you, Sylvester obviously thinks a lot of you.”

  Frankie gave her a grin, it made him look like a cheeky ten year old. “It’s the most exciting thing to happen to me in years! Sylvester said you could come along if you wanted to. I think he feels sorry for you, not having a social life and friends.”

  Grace bit back her reply. She would stay on the right side of Frankie, she had a feeling she could do with his help soon.

  They parked at the back of the shop. Frankie took the chair upstairs and placed it in his room.

  He sat on it, a puzzled look on his face. “That’s weird.”

  “What is?”

  “I thought I could smell something then, something fruity. Have you been stuffing your face again?”

  “No.” Grace changed the subject quickly. “Frankie, you can’t live in here fo
rever. This is supposed to be our stockroom. When are you going to get a proper place?”

  “Will you stop going on about that? I’ve told you before, I like it here. I’ve got everything I need, a bed, some drawers, my own toilet. I’ve got the kitchen downstairs. What’s the point in paying rent somewhere when I can live here for free?”

  “Strictly speaking I own half the shop so I could charge you rent.”

  Frankie laughed. “You’re so funny when you try to be tough.” He stood up and lifted his arm. He sniffed his armpit and pulled a face. “Can I use your shower?”

  Grace folded her arms. “I thought you had everything you need right here.”

  “I do, but I don’t have a shower. I’ll have to look into getting one installed. Can I use your shower or not?”

  Grace sighed. She unfolded her arms and reached into her handbag.

  Frankie said, “Don’t bother with the keys, I had a spare set cut last time I used the shower.”

  Grace looked at him. He gave her another grin. It wasn’t as confident as last time. Grace studied him. Something was going on.

  “Why are you having a shower now? At this time?”

  He cleared his throat and looked at the floor. He mumbled, “I’ve got a date.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’ve got a date.” Frankie looked up, a slight flush on his cheeks.

  Grace didn’t know whether to be pleased or shocked. She went with pleased. “Great. Who with? Do I know her? Where are you going?”

  “Whoa! Stop with the questions. You don’t know her, she’s younger than me.”

  “How much younger? Where does she live? What does she do?”

  “I’ll tell you what you need to know, when you need to know it. Stop acting weird. I’m taking her out for a meal, all right?”

  “All right,” Grace muttered. She swallowed the sudden feeling of fear, the fear of Frankie leaving her for the rest of the day. She was being silly. Besides, she needed him out of the way, she had a ghost to talk to. Frankie hadn’t imagined the fruity smell earlier, she had smelt it too, it was coming from the chair.

  She put a brave smile on her face and said, “Have a lovely time.”

  “I will. See you later, alligator!”

  Grace held her smile in place as Frankie bounded down the stairs. She was pleased for him, for getting on with his life. One day, she’d be able to do the same.

  She sank onto Frankie’s bed.

  The ghost of an old woman appeared at her side.

  It wasn’t Connie.

  This ghost was wearing a floral overall over a long blue dress.

  The ghost spoke. “Cheer up, you’ve got a face as miserable as a weekend at Blackpool!”

  Chapter 9

  Grace turned to the ghost and sniffed. “I like Blackpool, it’s lovely. How are you, Pearl? Did you hear what Frankie said?”

  The old woman nodded, her tight grey curls not moving on her head. “I did, he’s got a date. Good for him. Right, tell me where that disgusting chair has come from.”

  “It belongs to my family.” Connie appeared, sitting on the chair. She shot a defensive look at Pearl. “It’s not disgusting, it’s beautiful.”

  Grace said, “I’m sure Pearl didn’t mean to offend you, Connie.”

  Pearl snapped. “Don’t you apologise for me, Grace! I speak as I find.” Pearl looked over at Connie. “She’s right though, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m Pearl and I live in this shop, attached to it really. As you can see I’m dead too, just like you.”

  Connie flinched. Pearl looked at Grace and raised her eyebrows.

  Grace said, “Connie didn’t realise she was dead until I pointed it out.”

  Pearl pressed her lips together and nodded. She walked over to Connie and said in a softer voice, “I’m sorry for your loss, of life that is. Like Grace, I can see ghosts. I could see them when I was alive too. I helped them just like Grace does now. She’s still new to this murder business so I help her out sometimes.”

  Connie flinched again. Pearl looked back at Grace and said, “Did you tell her she’s been murdered? Or have I just put my foot in it?”

  Connie said, “Grace did tell me about being murdered but I can’t take it in. I can’t see any marks on my body, I don’t think I’ve been shot or stabbed.”

  “There are many ways to die,” Pearl said. “Some don’t leave marks on the outside but sometimes an external wound isn’t always visible – until later.”

  Pearl caught the confused look that passed between Connie and Grace. She explained, “I once met the ghost of a man who’d had his throat slashed. When I first saw him I couldn’t see any marks on his neck so I had no idea of how he’d died, but as I found out more about him I noticed that a red mark began to appear on his neck. By the time I’d found his murderer this poor man’s neck was almost hanging off! I had to keep pushing it back on to his shoulders. Talk about losing your head! What’s wrong now? There’s no need to look so disgusted, he wasn’t in pain.”

  Grace gave Connie a sympathetic look. “I’m sure that won’t happen to you.”

  Pearl wagged a finger at Grace. “Don’t say that, you’ve no idea how she died. Be prepared for anything, you need a strong stomach in this business.”

  Connie returned Grace’s look. “I know you’ll do all you can to help me, you’ve got a kind face. If any part of my body starts to feel loose I’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you,” Grace said in a quiet voice. Finding out how someone had been murdered was one of the worst parts of her detective job. The last ghost that she’d helped had been poisoned, that seemed a much neater way to die. She shook her head. What sort of a person was she turning into, thinking about the neatest way to be murdered?

  Grace stood up and walked over to Connie. “We need to find out more about you. I’m sorry if this sounds harsh but I need to find out who would have benefited from your death.”

  “I understand,” Connie said bravely, her lips trembling slightly.

  Grace put her hand on the chair that Connie was sitting on. “You’re obviously attached to this chair for some reason. Can you tell me about it?”

  Connie smiled. “It’s been in our family since before I was born. We’ve all heard the story about how my relative, I think he’s my great-great-grandfather, Alfred, came over from Poland in 1900 or thereabouts.” Connie’s hands shot up. “Oh! What’s happened to the floor? It’s moving! Is it an earthquake?”

  Grace looked up and around the room. She said, “I should have explained before I touched the chair. Sometimes, when I touch an item that a ghost is attached to I’m taken into a vision of the past. If the ghost is touching the item at the same time then they come with me. It’s like walking into a TV show, no one can see or hear us.” Grace paused. “But this is new, I haven’t seen this before. Pearl, what’s going on? It feels like we’re only halfway into the vision.”

  Pearl walked over to Grace and Connie. She pointed towards the back part of the room, it didn’t look like the stockroom any more, dark shadows flittered about. “You only need to see part of this vision. We can still experience some of the sensations though. It feels like we’re on a ship, that’s why the floor is moving. How did your relative, did you say his name was Albert? How did he get to this country?”

  Connie said, “He was called Alfred and he came over on a ship. Are we on the same ship? That’s impossible.” She paused and looked closer. “What’s going on at the other side of the room? It looks like it’s changed into another kind of room, one made of wood. I can see shadows, are those actual people? Are we on Alfred’s ship? That’s impossible!”

  Grace took a step towards the back of the room. She looked down at her right foot, it was standing on wooden decking. Grace looked up and studied the scene that was unfolding in front of her. She laughed and looked back at the two ghosts. “I think I’ve spotted Alfred, he’s got the chair with him, it looks new. I think he’s charging people to sit on the chair!”

 
“Why would he do that?” Connie said. She stood up and walked closer to Grace.

  Pearl joined them. “The crafty bugger! Look, there’s not enough room for everyone to sit down, some are resting against the walls. I bet they’re dying for a sit down and that Alfred knows it. Fancy charging people for that!”

  Grace took another step into the vision. She swayed as the ship moved up and down. She could smell the unwashed aroma of the passengers. It was obvious from their clothing that they were poor people. “They’ve been crammed into that ship like sardines, it’s cruel.”

  Pearl said, “That’s what people did. I’ve seen the news on Frankie’s computer, that still goes on today in the back of lorries. Desperate people will do desperate things.”

  Grace shifted from one foot to the other. Connie said, “What’s wrong? You look as if you want to say something but you daren’t.”

  Grace gave a little shrug. “It’s just that ... those poor people ...”

  Pearl butted in. “I think Grace is trying to say that Alfred shouldn’t be taking advantage of people in a bad situation, is that right?”

  Grace nodded, she looked at Connie, hoping she’d understand. Grace stiffened at Connie’s cold expression.

  In a stern voice Connie said, “It’s business, it’s not personal.”

  Chapter 10

  Grace looked at Pearl and raised her eyebrows. Pearl’s eyes widened and she nodded her head almost imperceptibly as if to confirm that she’d caught Connie’s cold look too.

  The vision of the ship faded and the far wall of the room returned to normal.

  Grace put a friendly smile on her face and said to Connie, “So, what happened when Alfred came to this country?”

  Connie’s head lifted, a proud look lit up her face. “He set up a stall in Leeds Market. He learnt the language and the customs. He worked every minute that he could and soon built up a loyal following.” Connie laughed. “No one could pronounce his surname, I can’t even remember what it was now, I think it’s written down somewhere, it begins with an ‘F’.”