A Sweet Murder

by Gillian Larkin

  More customers came in, looking at their mishmash of wares dotted around the shop. Frankie returned thirty minutes later looking cleaner but still tired.

  “Grace, take the rest of the day off. You’ve done more than your fair share this week,” Frankie said.

  “Are you sure?” Grace replied.

  “Why do you always say that? If I wasn’t sure then I wouldn’t say it. Now clear off, I’ve worked in here before on my own.”

  An idea popped into Grace’s head. She grabbed her coat and handbag before Frankie changed his mind. He might think he was okay but his eyes were already starting to droop.

  Grace caught two buses over to Flamingo Head Office. It was a huge building standing behind wrought iron gates. Grace knew that the factory was also situated here. The gates were open and Grace walked through trying to look more confident than she felt. She was still planning to use the same lie to speak to Vincent, she was going to add that she was ‘just passing’ and thought she’d drop in. If she kept her voice steady she might pull it off.

  Grace headed towards a pair of glass doors that were labelled ‘Reception’. With her head held high she opened the doors and walked in.

  Then her composure completely fell away. Grace’s mouth dropped open as she stared at the scene that met her. Huge replicas of Flamingo sweets hung from the ceiling like tantalising mobiles. And if that wasn’t temptation enough the aroma of sugar, strawberries, bananas and liquorice wafted through the air. Grace quickly closed her mouth to stop any dribble escaping. She had been so busy at the shop that she hadn’t had time to think about sweets and, now, here she was, in the middle of a delicious dream.

  “It’s quite something, isn’t it?” a male voice behind her said.

  Grace could only nod. Imagine if that was actually a real strawberry marshmallow, you could live inside it for a week and then eat yourself out.

  The man said, “Are you here for the tour? I think it’s going to start soon.”

  Grace turned to look at him. He was dressed in a business suit and was holding a brochure with the Flamingo Sweets logo on it. She said, “I’m here to talk to Vincent Flamingo, about vending machines.”

  “Good luck with that. I’ve heard that he’s not speaking to anyone at the moment, he’s locked away in his office all the time. I assume you’ve heard the rumours?”

  “No, what rumours?”

  The man looked to his left and right, and then moved closer to Grace. In a low voice he said, “It seems someone on the inside has been fiddling the books, charging customers more than they should be doing.”

  Grace’s mouth made a surprised ‘O’. Lucinda and Jamie? Is that what they were up to?

  The suited man continued, “That’s not all, there’s been some mention of illegal activity, I’m not sure what. Someone mentioned drugs but I’m not sure. Why don’t you join the tour? There’s going to be free samples.”

  Grace didn’t hesitate in her reply, “I think I will.”

  Chapter 20

  A very loud, very bright young woman suddenly appeared. She was wearing an orange dress that had patterned cuffs, the pattern showed a variety of sweets. The scarf tied gracefully around her neck was of the same pattern.

  “Good afternoon!” the woman called out. “My name is Suzie and I’m going to be your guide today! If you have any questions please feel free to ask me! Also, don’t forget to help yourself to as many sweets as you can carry! Don’t worry, we ...” Suzie frowned and looked down at the clipboard she was carrying. She nodded and looked back up at the small crowd. “Don’t worry, we won’t weigh you on the way out! Are we ready to begin? Great, let’s go!”

  Suited Man, who was standing next to Grace said, “Looks like she’s had a sugar overload already.”

  Grace just smiled and joined the end of the group.

  “This way!” Suzie instructed and walked to the left of the reception desk. She abruptly stopped and looked at her clipboard again. “No, sorry, it’s this way!”

  She performed an about turn and headed down a corridor to the right side of the desk.

  Grace felt as giddy as a small child, like Charlie as he took his first steps through Mr Wonka’s chocolate factory. Her giddiness increased as she saw the packets of sweets lined up on a shelf that ran down both sides of the corridor. Grace clenched her hands to her sides, she didn’t want to be the first to pick some sweets up. Suited Man had no such qualms, he reached out and grabbed a handful of packets.

  Grace gave him a smile and said, “I may as well take some, it would be rude to refuse them.”

  Her impulse was to grab as many as she could. She frowned, that wasn’t like her at all. She controlled her urges and picked up a couple of packets and placed them in her bag. For the first time since she’d met Connie she felt resentment about the effect Connie was having on her. She pulled at her blouse, it felt even tighter against her chest.

  Suzie pointed out several black and white photographs that were displayed on the walls. “This is the original Flamingo, Charles, and he came from France! Isn’t that wonderful!”

  Grace muttered to Suited Man, “I thought he was called Alfred, and he came from Poland.”

  Suited Man said, “I think he was. Doesn’t surprise me that the tour guide is getting everything wrong, this company is going down the toilet. Nice sweets though, there’s some more over there.”

  Suited Man helped himself to more sweets, so did other people in the tour. Grace congratulated herself on her self-restraint until Suited Man handed her a pile of sweets. “Here you are, stick them in your bag.”

  Grace gave him a small smile and said thank you.

  Suzie waved her hands at the tour. “This is the most exciting part of the tour! We are going into the Inventing Room! This is where all the magic happens! We will even get to taste some of the new creations!” Suzie’s voice became more serious as she said, “Please, no photography or filming in here. And don’t distract the staff, they need to concentrate on their marvellous new creations.”

  Suzie reverently pushed open a set of wooden doors. Grace heard her gasp with delight. Surely she’d been in here before? Or was she as new to the tour as Grace was?

  Grace was at the end of the tour group. She stepped through the doors. Her first thought was that she had walked into a laboratory. The tour group stood on a walkway to the left of the room, a huge glass wall separated them from the inventing staff. The glass reached the ceiling and seemed to be soundproof as none of the white-coated staff behind seemed to notice them.

  Suited Man gave a low whistle. “I imagined bowls and weighing scales, women in flour covered aprons. This looks like something from a science movie. Are they really using test tubes to make sweets?”

  Grace nodded politely, she wasn’t really listening. She had spotted someone at the back of the inventing room, someone she had seen in a vision. It was Della. Her black hair was pulled back, goggles covered half her face but Grace still recognised her. Della was holding up a small black sweet and examining it, just like she had done in the vision. Were they liquorice twists? Were they inventing a new kind? There was nothing wrong with the original ones.

  In a hushed voice Suzie said, “Please help yourself to some of the new inventions, there are five to choose from. We would greatly appreciate your feedback. Please, remember to be quiet.”

  Suited Man wasted no time in helping himself. Grace moved closer to the bowls that were on a table in front of the glass wall. What was Della up to? She was talking to a colleague now and shaking her head. Grace could see her angry expression even from this distance. Without looking where her hand was going Grace reached into the nearest bowl and put a round sweet in her mouth. She vaguely registered a toffee flavour mixed with lemon. Della was marching towards the front of the room now, towards the glass wall.

  Grace took another sweet, she moved her shoulders around, her blouse was feeling really uncomfortable now. She heard the low hum of other members of the tour group as they discussed
the new sweets in hushed tones.

  Grace winced and looked down at her blouse. Crikey, what had happened to it? It didn’t look that tight when she put it on this morning. It looked like it was going to ...

  In horrific slow motion Grace watched the buttons on her blouse give up their struggle. Four black buttons shot off her blouse as if being fired from a gun. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears as she watched the buttons shoot towards the glass wall.

  Chapter 21

  The quiet was shattered as the buttons pinged against the glass wall. Who knew buttons could be so loud? There were screams on both sides of the glass. The screams on the other side were not heard but they could be seen. Grace watched hopelessly as the white-coated people dropped test tubes and glass bottles all around the room. As one, the people behind the glass turned to look at whoever had caused the noise. Grace hung her head in shame and gave herself away. She clutched her open blouse together and raised her head. The wild fury on Della’s face caused Grace’s heart to miss a beat.

  No one on Grace’s side on the glass wall spoke although Grace could feel their eyes boring into her. She looked at the floor again and muttered, “Sorry, so sorry.” With her head bowed she retraced her steps out of the room. She would have run but she was afraid the last two buttons on her blouse would give up the ghost too.

  Once through the doors Grace felt the sting of tears. She blinked. It was an accident, that’s all. Accidents happened all the time.

  Fear came rushing towards Grace. What if those white-coated people were in the middle of an important invention? What if they were working on a sweet that would bring millions to the company? What if they sued her?

  Grace wiped her tears away. No time for self-pity, she had to get out of there. She strode forward. She heard a noise behind her. They were coming for her. Leaving her blouse to fend for itself Grace ran down the corridor as fast as she could. There was a smaller corridor leading to the left, they hadn’t come up that way in the tour. Grace ducked down into it and opened the first door that she came to. There was a name on the door but she didn’t have time to read it.

  Grace closed the door behind her and leaned against it. It didn’t take her long to realise she’d barged into someone’s office.

  And it didn’t take her long to recognise the man who was standing at the window. Luckily, Vincent Flamingo had his back to her, he was engrossed in his telephone conversation. One hand held the phone to his ear, the other rubbed the back of his neck.

  Grace didn’t move. Could she sneak back out before Vincent noticed she was there? She cocked her head, she could hear voices outside in the corridor, they sounded angry. She’d give them a few seconds to move on and then sneak out.

  She couldn’t help but overhear Vincent’s conversation. “Mirabelle, sweetheart, we’ve been over this a thousand times. You know I can’t get my hands on the money just yet... Yes, I have spoken to the accountant... Yes, I’ll speak to him again. I know you have to pay the deposit on the holiday...” Vincent lowered the phone and let out a weary sigh. Grace could hear a woman’s tinny voice. Mirabelle, wasn’t that his wife? Vincent continued with his conversation, still looking out of the window. “Yes, I’m still here. I have to go, it’ll be a late night again ...Yes, I haven’t forgotten about the concert, I’ll try to make it. Please understand, I’m trying my best, I just feel so guilty about Mum.”

  The conversation abruptly ended without a goodbye at either end. Vincent looked at the phone, his other hand still rubbed his neck as if to reassure himself that everything was going to be okay.

  Vincent turned around to replace the phone. He stopped in mid motion and looked straight at Grace.

  Grace cursed herself for forgetting to escape, she had been too engrossed in Vincent’s conversation.

  Vincent recovered his composure and placed the phone on the desk. He gave Grace a polite smile and said, “Good afternoon, are you a stripper? You must forgive me, I’m not in the best of moods. Did Della arrange for you to be here? She’s always playing jokes on me.”

  Grace blinked a few times. Stripper? What was he talking about? Oh! Heat flooded her cheeks and she pulled her open blouse together. What was that lie she was going to use? It was hardly going to be convincing now.

  Grace took a chance and told him a half-truth, starting from when she met Lucinda yesterday. She told him that she was interested in renting a vending machine for her shop but got drawn into the factory tour. As she talked Vincent relaxed and the tension melted away from his face. He sat down and invited Grace to do the same. Grace left out the part about seeing ghosts and meeting his departed mother. She didn’t mention finding the painted chair either. As she got to the button popping incident Vincent threw his head back and laughed.

  “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in months! They’re so serious in that lab of theirs, they need shaking up. Don’t worry about any repercussions, it was an accident. Now, we can’t have you walking about like that. Hang on.” He opened a drawer in the desk and pulled something out. “This should fit you, it might be on the large side though. There’s a bathroom through that door.”

  Grace took the offered Flamingo T-shirt and went into the bathroom. The shirt wasn’t too big, it was a little bit tight. Grace sent a mental thank you to Vincent for thinking it would be too large. She paused. She shouldn’t be having good thoughts about Vincent, he could be the one who murdered Connie. She needed to ask him some questions.

  Vincent was on the phone again when she came out. “I know that. It’s going to be a difficult conversation, do we really need to get the police involved? She is family.”

  Vincent noticed Grace. He said to the person on the phone, “Just a minute,” and then addressed Grace. “It’s been lovely to meet you, please keep the T-shirt. There are some brochures on the front desk about vending machines, help yourself. Can you see yourself out? Thank you.”

  He waited until Grace headed towards the door that she had originally barged through. As soon as she closed it behind her she heard him resuming his conversation. She put her ear to the door but couldn’t make out his words.

  Vincent was hiding something, Lucinda was hiding something too. She still hadn’t got to the bottom of everything. Grace sighed, she wished Pearl was here to talk to, give her ideas about what to do next.

  Grace picked up some brochures on the way out. On the bus journey home she rested her tired head against the window. She really wasn’t cut out for sleuthing. But what choice did she have? Someone was getting away with murder and it was up to Grace to stop them.

  Chapter 22

  At home Grace made a quick call to Frankie to make sure he was okay. He yawned a lot but said he was okay. Grace advised him to stay home that night but, of course, he ignored her suggestion.

  Once she’d got this murder case sorted out she’d deal with Frankie, whether he wanted her help or not.

  Grace settled down on the sofa with a cup of tea and a notepad. She wrote down everything she knew about Connie’s murder.

  Something suddenly struck her, how did she know Connie had been murdered? Connie couldn’t remember how she’d died and there was no mention of any ‘foul play’ in any reports about her death.

  But if she had died a natural death why had she appeared to Grace? She really needed to know how Connie died. Hopefully, Pearl would get some information from her soon.

  Grace wrote out Lucinda’s name and then Jamie’s. They were obviously a couple and they were covering something up. Was there some sort of embezzlement going on? Had Lucinda been taking money from the business over the years to save up enough money to escape from the family? Was Jamie helping her? Did he set it up in the first place? Going by Vincent’s telephone conversation it seemed that he had an idea that something was going on. If he knew about Lucinda what would he do to protect her? And come to that, what would Lucinda and Jamie do to protect their escape fund?

  Grace then wrote Vincent’s name down. He was stressed about something, he was ge
tting angry phone calls from his wife. From the photo that Grace had seen Mirabelle seemed to like expensive things. Had Vincent undertaken dubious business dealings in order to make more money to keep Mirabelle happy? Grace thought that the money from Connie’s will hadn’t come through yet, although it sounded like it was due to come in soon. Why had there been a delay? Grace hadn’t forgotten about the supposed revised will, the one that left Lucinda and Vincent with nothing.

  And, of course, there was the business of Vincent renting the storage unit a few months before Connie died. What was going on there?

  Grace wrote Della’s name down. Apart from seeing her in the vision and then in the inventing room today, Grace hadn’t spoken to her yet. She didn’t want to, there was something in Della’s eyes that troubled Grace, a coldness that said she was used to getting her own way, no matter what. Grace had a feeling that Della was mixed up in something sordid. She thought about the black sweets that Frankie had told her about, the ones that people in the nightclub were eating. The two times that Grace had seen Della she had been holding a black sweet. Was she putting something in them? And then selling them to nightclub goers?

  Was there anyone else in the picture that could be a suspect? There was always the chance that a disgruntled employee had killed Connie for some reason. Grace couldn’t think of any reasons, perhaps the employees didn’t get a big enough discount on Flamingo Sweets? Grace smiled to herself, hardly a reason to kill someone.

  She made a ‘To Do’ list for the next day. She was tempted to phone Frankie again but resisted. Surely he wouldn’t last another late night?

  Grace slept better that night. There were no signs of nocturnal feasts anywhere in her home the following morning.

  She arrived at the shop full of energy and raring to go. She raced up the stairs to Frankie’s room. If he was still asleep she would jump on his bed and wake him up! And it would serve him right. Maybe she’d take Pearl’s suggestion and throw cold water over him.