Pancakes and Corpses: A Cozy Murder Mystery (Peridale Cafe Mystery Book 1)

by Agatha Frost

  The service was longer than Julia had expected and it wasn’t until almost an hour later that they were walking out of the church. The weather had perked up from the morning’s clouds, but even though the sky was as clear as could be, it still felt like there was a dark cloud hanging over the village.

  Dot and Sue walked arm in arm towards the church gates, but Julia told them to go ahead without her. Both of them looked back at her suspiciously, but they didn’t object. She waited until Rachel and Imogen Carter exited and she caught their eyes through the crowd.

  When they cut through and walked in her direction, she realised they also wanted to speak to her too.

  “Julia, sweetheart,” Imogen said softly, resting her hand on Julia’s. “I hear you found the body. Terrible business all of this, isn’t it?”

  “It really is,” Julia said, sighing heavily. “I was wondering if you’ve seen Roxy recently?”

  “Why?” Imogen asked, clearly confused. “Should I have?”

  Julia tried to keep her smile firmly on her face as she stared at Imogen, wondering if she should tell her everything she had witnessed the morning before. She decided against it.

  “I just wanted to catch up with her, that’s all,” Julia lied, widening her smile so much she was sure it looked fake.

  Imogen nodded, patted Julia’s hands and said her goodbyes. Rachel hung back and told her mother they would meet in The Plough for lunch later that afternoon. Imogen waved to them both and scurried off, leaving Rachel and Julia alone outside the church.

  Rachel Carter was the complete opposite of her sister Roxy, but still as sweet. Instead of having red hair, her hair was onyx black and her features slender. Rachel was one of the few people in the village who left to pursue a university education, although she came back around the same time Julia did to put her fine art degree to good use by taking over the management of the local art gallery.

  “Roxy told me about the argument with Gertrude Smith in the café yesterday morning,” Rachel said in a hushed voice, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the passing crowd wasn’t listening. “She was in a state.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  Rachel shook her head, and grabbed Julia’s arm and pulled her into the shadow of the large oak tree on the church grounds. When she was satisfied they were out of earshot of the lingering attendees, she looked deep into Julia’s eyes.

  “I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning,” Rachel said, biting into her orangey red lipstick, which caught Julia off guard with its bright hue. “She came to my gallery around half past ten yesterday and she was really worked up. She was babbling and she looked like she hadn’t slept – I couldn’t really understand what she was saying, but I managed to get it out of her that she had an argument with Gertrude. I tried to get some more information out of her but she vanished as quickly as she arrived, saying she needed to go and find some money. She seemed pretty desperate.”

  “Money?” Julia asked. “Why would she need money?”

  “She earns a good wage working at the school,” Rachel said, shrugging. “But she’s been acting strange for weeks. It’s been getting progressively worse. We usually meet each other for lunch during the week, but she keeps missing it, saying she’s forgotten, but you know Roxy, she has an elephant’s memory, which is why she makes such a good teacher.”

  “She was the same when I saw her. She came into my café as if she didn’t know where she was,” Julia said, trying to steady the nerves in her voice. “I sat her down and she told me she was in trouble. Next thing I know, she’s got her hands on Gertrude, and then she stormed out.”

  Rachel clasped her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. She stayed like that until Julia rested her hand on Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel was a couple of years older than Roxy, but Julia was sure if she had been in the same class as Rachel at school, she would have been as good of friends with her as she was her sister.

  “Mother called me late last night to tell me about Gertrude,” Rachel whispered when she finally dropped her hand and opened her mouth. “I jumped straight into my car and I went to Roxy’s house. She wasn’t in, so I let myself in using my key. Things were all over the place and half of her clothes were missing, like she’d just packed in a hurry.”

  “This is worse than I thought,” Julia mumbled, almost to herself. “Have you told Detective Inspector Brown any of this?”

  The recognition in Rachel’s eyes of the new DI’s name sent a shudder down Julia’s spine.

  “Not yet,” Rachel said. “But he stopped us both outside the church when we were coming in and asked us if he could ask some questions. Mother invited him to lunch at The Plough and he accepted.”

  “Don’t tell him anything,” Julia said. “He’s looking for somebody to pin this murder on.”

  “So you don’t think Roxy did it?” Rachel said, a frown forming between her brows.

  “Do you?”

  “I’m not sure. The evidence seems solid.”

  Julia didn’t agree. Despite her nightmare the previous night, she had come to the conclusion that her friend couldn’t possibly murder somebody, no matter how much trouble she was in. She knew she was missing most of the important jigsaw pieces, and she was determined to find them.

  “I need to talk to Roxy first,” Julia said, pulling out her ingredients notepad and a small pencil. “Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

  Rachel stared through Julia for a moment as she thought, but she shook her head and sighed.

  “She’s been quite friendly with Violet Mason recently. Maybe she’s gone to stay with her?”

  “Violet?”

  “Roxy’s new teaching assistant. She moved to the village a couple of months ago and she’s renting a room in Amy Clark’s cottage. Aside from you, Violet is the only friend my sister has.”

  Julia knew that to be true because she had always assumed she was Roxy’s only real friend, which was why she was so surprised to hear about the existence of another. Roxy had always been very particular about who she gave her time to, something Julia had always admired, because Julia had always found herself to be too trusting. She wasn’t hurt that Roxy had found somebody else to share her time with, she was glad of it, but she was hurt Roxy hadn’t introduced her new friend, or at least talked about her.

  She drew an arrow from Roxy’s name in her notepad and added ‘Violet Mason – Amy Clark’s cottage’ next to it. Rachel peered over the top of the notepad but Julia snapped it shut before she could figure out what she was writing.

  “Just remembered an ingredient I need to pick up for a devil’s food cake,” Julia said with an awkward laugh.

  Rachel narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t question Julia. The two parted ways and Julia hung back to examine her notepad. She noticed she now had three names written down in connection with Gertrude’s murder. She connected a line from Amy Clark’s name to the main circle, wondering if wanting to take over the organ playing was a strong enough motive for murder. She decided to add a question mark next to Amy’s name, but she drew a circle around Violet’s because she wanted to speak to her next.

  “Wouldn’t be interfering in my murder investigation, would you?” Detective Inspector Brown appeared from nowhere, causing Julia to jump and snap her notepad shut. “Writing anything good?”

  “Just a shopping list.”

  “For one of those cakes you bake?” Barker asked, displaying the smirk she had come to dislike. “I hear your baked goods are quite popular in this village.”

  “You’ve been asking people about me?” Julia asked, folding her arms across her chest and holding Barker’s gaze.

  “All part of the investigation.”

  Julia didn’t think Barker suspected her of murder, but she did suspect that toying with her had become his new favourite thing to do in the village. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had hung back, just to make that little dig.

  “I hope it’s going well for you,” Julia said, sidestepping, only
for Barker to do the same and block her way.

  “Stay away from my witnesses,” Barker commanded, his tone changing from playful to serious. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Julie, but leave this case to the professionals.”

  “It’s Julia, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know about the altercation between Gertrude and a Miss Roxy Carter in your business yesterday morning.” Barker’s smugness immediately returned. “Gertrude luckily told her son before she was murdered, meaning I want to talk to Miss Carter.”

  “Isn’t all of that classified information?” Julia said, pleased that she was able to match his smugness. “I don’t know anything about any of that.”

  Barker faltered for a second but he held his stare. The amount he underestimated her radiated from his body, making her only want to find Roxy Carter before he did even more.

  “Judging from the way you were talking to her sister, I’d say you know Roxy,” Barker said, glancing down at his watch as though the conversation was starting to bore him. “If you have any knowledge of her whereabouts, I’d like to know.”

  “Have you checked her house?”

  Barker’s smug smirk turned upside down in an instant. Julia knew he was trying to catch her out, but she couldn’t help feeling she was already a step ahead of the man, and that pleased her.

  “Classified,” he said.

  “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got one of those cake things to go and bake,” Julia said, stepping around Barker and walking away. “Good day, Detective Inspector.”

  Julia walked towards the church gates and pocketed her notepad, and without needing to turn around, she knew Barker was watching her. Instead of going to her Gran’s house or to her own cottage, she crossed the village green and unlocked her café door because as it happened, she did have a cake to bake. She pulled out the ingredients for an angel cake and got to work.

  “Angel cake!” Amy Clark exclaimed. “My favourite! It’s so good of you to remember that, Julia!”

  Amy stepped to the side and let Julia into her cottage without question. Julia had always been proud of her talent for remembering people’s favourite cakes, especially in situations when she needed to use her baking skills as a form of bribery. It was a talent her mother had also shared and she used to quiz Julia on people’s favourite cakes when they used to spend their Sundays baking together. She could only remember Amy mentioning that her favourite cake was an angel cake on one occasion, almost three months ago when she had visited the café and spotted a freshly baked one in the display case.

  Julia handed the cake over to Amy, who hurried off to the kitchen to slice two pieces and make them a pot of tea. Julia showed herself into the living room, and even though she had never been inside of Amy’s cottage before, it looked exactly as she expected. Everything was either a saccharine shade of pink or blue, and all of the ornaments cluttering the surfaces were of animals that all had an element of cute comedy to them. Julia was assessing a figurine of a juggling cat that looked spookily like Mowgli. She tried to imagine Mowgli standing on hind legs and juggling, but the thought disturbed her; she preferred her furry friend on all four feet.

  “This is as good as I remember,” Amy muffled through a mouthful of cake as she hurried into the living room brandishing a tray containing a pastel pink teapot and two powder blue teacups. Julia wondered if Amy had matched her outfit to her décor, or if it had been the other way around.

  They both sat on the couch and Amy poured tea into two cups. She added four cubes of sugar to her tea before passing the dish along to Julia, who opted for one.

  “I just wanted to stop by and congratulate you on your excellent organ playing today,” Julia said, trying to inject as much sweetness and light into her voice. “You really have a knack for it.”

  Amy looked genuinely taken aback by the compliment, not seeming to notice the over-enthusiastic nature of Julia’s tone. Amy rested her hand on her heart and smiled pleasantly, looking on the verge of tears.

  “Thank you,” Amy said, nodding, as though she really were holding back tears. “You know, I was terribly nervous.”

  “You couldn’t tell.”

  “I’ve waited all my life to get up there and perform like that,” Amy sighed, and she stared off towards the comedy figurines on the mantelpiece, although she appeared to be looking through them. “It’s sad that it’s only under these circumstances that I had the chance.”

  The lack of remorse in Amy’s voice didn’t go unnoticed. She had wondered if her Gran had over egged the rivalry between the two ladies, something Dot did with most village gossip, but this time it appeared to be the truth.

  “It’s so sad what happened to Gertrude,” Julia said, hoping to glean some information from Amy. “I still can’t get the image of her out of my head. Even though I only saw the outline of her body, it’s something I can’t seem to shake.”

  Once again, Amy didn’t show a flicker of emotion. She leaned forward and picked up her cup, taking a sip as though Julia had just commented on the weather. She swirled the tea around in the cup and busied herself by picking a piece of lint off of her pink cardigan.

  “I imagine those things do stay with you,” Amy said after what felt like an age of awkward silence. “It was surprising.”

  “We were all surprised.”

  “I think we’re crossing wires here,” Amy said, a strained smile contorting her lips. “I am only surprised this didn’t happen sooner.”

  The coldness of Amy’s words took Julia by surprise so much that she reached out for her tea and took a sip in hopes it would warm her. Julia stopped herself from pushing the subject further, instead choosing to divert the conversation to the topic that had brought her to Amy’s sickly sweet cottage.

  “Is Violet home?” Julia asked as casually as she could muster.

  “Violet?” Amy tilted her head as though thinking. “I don’t think so. I could check if you want? I didn’t realise the two of you were friends.”

  “Oh, yes,” Julia said enthusiastically. “Well, we have a mutual friend in Roxy Carter.”

  The mention of Roxy’s name mustered up a reaction from Amy that Julia hadn’t been expecting. She hadn’t been expecting any reaction at all, so when she saw Amy’s features tighten and her jaw grit, it surprised her. Amy sipped her tea through strained lips, and then forced a smile forward.

  “The last I saw of Violet was when she left this morning. I was going to ask her to come to the service with me, to watch me play, but she was rather insistent that she wanted to find William Smith.”

  “William Smith?” Julia asked, a little puzzled.

  “That’s what I said,” Amy said, suddenly a little more animated now that they were both back on the same page. “I told her he wouldn’t want to see anybody after finding out his mother had been murdered in her own home. I suppose he’s feeling guilty after their huge argument. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the last time they spoke to each other.”

  “Argument?”

  Amy suddenly tightened up again, even more than she had at the mention of Roxy’s name. Her entire body turned stiff and the teacup started to shake in her hands. Tea spilled over the edge and onto her pale blue pleated skirt. It took her a moment to react, but when she did, it felt like an overreaction.

  “Silly me!” Amy cried, jumping up and setting the teacup on the tray. “What am I like?”

  She hurried over to her sideboard and pulled a tissue out of the tissue box, which looked to have been wrapped in the same pink and blue floral wallpaper as the walls. She dabbed at the stain for a moment before busying herself with rearranging the figurines that were neatly placed up on it. It was obvious she was hoping Julia wouldn’t push the subject further.

  “What argument?” Julia repeated again.

  “It’s nothing,” Amy said dismissively, waving her hand clutching the damp tissue. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Probably nothing?”

  Amy s
ighed and returned to the sofa and sat next to Julia, but a little closer this time. She leaned in and glanced around the cottage, checking that the figurines weren’t eavesdropping on their conversation.

  “I was at Gertrude’s cottage last night and I heard them both arguing,” Amy said in a hushed tone. “He was screaming at the top of his lungs and she was just taking it. Gertrude wasn’t the type of woman who would just lie down and accept defeat but she didn’t bite.”

  “What was he saying to her?”

  “I didn’t hear much, I was in the other room.” Amy paused and glanced around her tiny living room, before adding, “He called her selfish, I remember that much. He repeated it over and over – ‘You selfish witch! You selfish witch!’ – I remember what he said just before he stormed out.”

  Amy stopped talking and lifted her hand up to her mouth, as though she had just realised something serious. Julia reached out a hand and rested it on Amy’s knee, and she smiled appreciatively.

  “Go on,” Julia urged.

  “He said – ‘I’ll make you pay for what you’ve done’ – and then he left.”

  Julia’s eyes widened and her mouth suddenly became dry. She let the words sink in and replayed them over and over in her brain, as though she had heard them first hand. She thought back to last night, and wondered if the figure she had seen could have been William, Gertrude’s own son, fleeing from the scene of a murder.

  “Amy?” Julia said calmly, inhaling deeply.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Why were you at Gertrude’s house last night?”

  In an instant, Julia knew her question was one too many. Amy’s body tightened up again and convulsed so hard, it looked as though she was about to have a seizure from holding in her outburst so tightly.

  “I really must get on with my gardening!” Amy cried, her voice shrill and cracking. “We’re going to be losing the light soon and I have lots to do. Thank you for the angel cake, Julia. I’m sure I’ll be enjoying that for the rest of the week. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll see you out.”