Sculpt a Murder

by Lily Ashton

  Thump! The deck vibrated under Alice’s feet.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Roddy. “Am I interrupting some kind of moon worship?”

  “I was just having a quiet moment.” Alice folded her arms. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Then it’s a good job I brought this.” Roddy presented a bottle of wine. He poured two glasses and sat on a director’s chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Now tell me the gossip. What’s the latest with Christian and Devi?”

  “I saw them today as they shot passed me in a taxi. But apart from that, I’ve no idea. I haven’t heard from Christian.”

  Roddy twirled a strand of grey beard. “He’s probably calmed down now, so you could contact him and see how he is.”

  “I thought I would ask him and Devi to lunch with me and Joe on Sunday. It’s Emilio’s opening and he’s offering free pizza.”

  “Dear girl, you’re going to invite your brother to a free pizza lunch? That wasn’t what I had in mind for a patch-up session.”

  “Emilio’s expecting a big turnout and I thought it would be less awkward to be in a crowd, instead of having a proper sit-down lunch. No pressure on Christian to talk if he doesn’t want to.”

  “I stand corrected.” Roddy winked. “Rather thoughtful in fact.”

  “Do you think he’ll come? I’ll be gutted if he doesn’t.”

  “Of course he will. After all, it is free pizza!”

  “You sneer, but Emilio’s pizzas will be amazing. I’ve heard all about the secret family recipe and it involves some very special tomatoes!”

  “You know, I might saunter down myself if there’s free food. I can’t remember the last time I ate pizza. Now, tell me …” Roddy sauntered across the deck and leant against the side. “How’s your part of the investigation going?”

  “Still the same three suspects. The only wrinkle is that I had assumed the same person killed both Nick Carberry and Jeremy Evans. But I can’t see a connection between them, so now, I’m not so sure.”

  “And the dog?”

  “Don’t ask! To be honest, the whole thing is more baffling now than when I started.”

  “Tell me what you know about it. I’m intrigued.”

  “Sarah Evans said that Nick Carberry got agitated about a dog statue. And she didn’t know any more than that. Bizarre really.”

  “It must be a very special statue.”

  “You would think. But I’ve found it and it’s nothing special. I was in the wood that divides the Renton Hall estate from its neighbour, and I stumbled across a pet cemetery.”

  Roddy screwed up his face. “How macabre. Bury the beasts, yes, but headstones and statues?”

  “Anyway, sitting on the edge was a rather ugly stone statue of a greyhound. It has to be Sarah’s dog.”

  “But stuck in the middle of a wood? How would that bother anybody?” Roddy refilled their glasses.

  “I suppose that was the point, to keep it out of the way,” said Alice. “Though I expect it kept the Carberry children occupied for a while. Perhaps the cemetery was created specially for them – a place to visit their beloved pets. Perhaps it only become neglected when they grew up and lost interest.”

  “It belongs to the Carberrys then?”

  “I just assumed it belonged to them. The wood marks the boundary between the Carberrys and their neighbours. But I don’t know exactly where one property ends and the other begins.”

  “So, it could be the neighbour’s?”

  Alice had not considered that the pet cemetery might belonged to the Trevelyans. “Roddy, help me out for a moment. If the cemetery and dog belong to the Trevelyans, in what circumstances could it possibly have upset Nick Carberry? It’s tucked away out of sight. And when I was there today, I didn’t see anything to upset anybody.” Alice pursed her lips. “Except for the dead animals, of course.”

  “Dear girl, this has got to be the strangest conversation we’ve ever had. Or have I drunk too much wine?”

  “I told you it was baffling.” Alice laughed. “Though I do wonder whether this pet cemetery, macabre as it is, holds the key. As there isn’t an obvious line between the two properties, perhaps there was an argument about that. Or maybe it really is about the dog. Somebody stole somebody else’s dog. Or something?”

  “I’m beginning to lose the will to live … Though I think your boundary idea may have some merit,” said Roddy. “Talking of Trevelyan, I was in The Coffee Pot today and I got chatting to Mikey Case. He told me an interesting story about Mr Bill Trevelyan.”

  “Mikey Case?”

  “The man who lives on Peppermint. The barge four in front of Daisy.”

  “Oh, I thought his name was Jim. I’ve always called him Jim.”

  “Dear girl!”

  “Anyway, what did he say?”

  Roddy looked over his shoulder. “Well, it seems that the Carberry’s respectable neighbour is something of a dark horse. In his younger days he had a string of affairs. One mistress after another, so Mikey said.”

  “What a pair of gossips you two are! Interesting stuff, though! How would Bill have got away with it for so long? His wife must have found out, surely?”

  “It sounds as though Trevelyan tried to be discreet. But he had staff and everyone knew him. And this—”

  “Is a small town. Yes, I know.” Alice looked over the darkened river.

  “Before we leave the Carberrys, may I ask whether Eleanor has paid up yet?”

  “No! I was going to chase it up today, but I didn’t see her. It’s not the sort of conversation I want to have over the phone.”

  “But she does owe you the money and it’s not out of order for you to remind her.”

  Alice did not want to discuss money with Roddy. Whilst she appreciated his support and guidance, he did not have to know every detail of her life. And she was not going to give him, or anyone else for that matter, the lowdown on her hopeless financial situation.

  “If you could continue your enquiries, Roddy, I would be grateful. Perhaps Mikey has some more gossip that might shed a light on Nick’s murder.”

  “Don’t underestimate the power of the chattering class. Though of course, I have far better sources than Mikey.” Roddy raised his chin. “On other matters, how is Joe? I haven’t seen him for a while.”

  “He’s fine. Very busy as always, he’s been working away a lot recently.”

  “Which means you can spend time on Daisy. You must be glad you decided to keep her.”

  “One of the best decisions I’ve made for ages. Though the owners are due back next year when their contract in Singapore is up. And I’m already panicking about losing Daisy.”

  Daisy had never let Alice down. Everything about her felt right – her cosy saloon with Alice’s favourite paintings on the walls, her deck for relaxed socialising, her reassuring, somehow timeless bulk. Alice did not know how she would be able to give her back to the owners.

  Roddy twirled the empty wine glass in his hand. “I was going to suggest a spot of supper. But I’ve got no food on board and I’m guessing you don’t either. How do you fancy a quick bite at Livvie’s?”

  Chapter 17

  Swelling clouds hung over the river, a whippy wind buffeting the Great Wheaton Rowing Club flag, but that did not discourage the team. Eight teenage girls in club vests pushed away from the bank and eased into matching strokes, encouraged by their shouty cox. Brawling ducks gobbled Sunday morning breakfast from little hands spraying chunks of bread across the water. Couples cradled takeaway coffees and dogs pulled on leads, anticipating a romp through the fields.

  Two floors up on Joe’s balcony, Alice watched Simon Newgate wander along the riverside path. He was wearing a white baseball cap, but Alice caught his face when he stopped to chat to a man pushing a pram.

  It seemed ages since Alice had met Simon i
n his office. The meeting had come directly after Eleanor’s insistence that Simon was Nick Carberry’s killer. Had Eleanor’s words coloured Alice’s judgement of Nick’s business partner? But if Simon Newgate was a suspect, where did the stone dog fit in? Had Simon bought it? Or perhaps he had designed it? Was it was modelled on a real dog? Simon’s dog?

  So many questions, but there was one immediate question to answer. What should she wear for lunch?

  The queue snaked away from the entrance to Emilio’s Pizza Parlour and along the high street. The promise of free food was clearly a draw, but the smell of fresh basil and rich tomato sauce must have contributed to the growing crowd.

  Emilio Gambi was at the door greeting people, as Alice and Joe arrived. He directed new arrivals to the back of the queue, expressing sympathy for the wait. “What can I do?” he said. “Everybody wants to eat Emilio’s special pizzas.”

  When Emilio spotted Alice, he waved her through the door. “I can’t have my special guests kept waiting.” He kissed her on both cheeks. “Go on in. Antonia will look after you.” He yelled inside, “Antonia! Alice is here.”

  A round woman with a dark messy bun and a warm smile, threw her arms around Alice and patted her back. “We love the photos, Alice. Your frames make them look special. Nonno would be very proud.” Antonia embraced Joe. “Come on in and have some food.” Antonia took Alice’s hand and pulled her through the crowd of people cradling slices of pizza on little sheets of greaseproof paper.

  “Lot of customers. Emilio’s will be very popular I think. We even have a movie star here. Yes, a real one, all the way from India. I introduce you.”

  With her wavy hair cascading over her shoulders, Devi looked every inch the movie star. Alice looked down at her white jeans and boat-necked stripy blue t-shirt. And she had been so pleased with her Chanel look!

  Devi placed a soft hand on Alice’s arm. “I’m so happy you invited us, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again. Both Christian and I have.” Devi glanced at Christian, who was talking to another man. Devi tapped his shoulder. “Your sister is here, Christian.”

  Alice’s stomach back-flipped as she looked at her brother. He didn’t turn round. He was laughing at something the man had said. Had he only come because Devi had made him?

  “That’s a potential new client,” whispered Devi. She stepped aside as a little girl, pizza clamped to her mouth, brushed her leg as she passed.

  Flaming ovens at the back of the restaurant raised the temperature and Alice felt beads of perspiration on her forehead. The chatter intensified and she could not hear Christian’s voice. Moments later, pinned against the wall by the throng, she lost sight of him too. She was beginning to regret suggesting a meet-up at Emilio’s. Christian seemed more interested in Devi and his new client. Alice flopped against the wall. Her legs felt weak, as if they were about to buckle beneath her.

  “Are you alright, Alice?” said Joe in her ear. “You’re looking a little pale there.”

  “I’m fine.” Alice’s throat dried as she spoke.

  Joe took a doughball from a proffered dish and listened to the waitress naming the selection of accompanying dips. Alice wiped moisture from her forehead with one of Joe’s handkerchiefs.

  “Alice.” Christian appeared beside her. “It’s good to see you.”

  The siblings looked at each other. Christian’s eyes were bright, his skin more tanned than a few days before, his body more relaxed.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  Alice put a hand on his shoulder. Christian wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. Alice pulled away and squeezed Christian’s arm.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said.

  “And miss out on free pizza? No way!”

  Antonia handed them each a large slice of pizza. “Sit down,” she said. “There are plenty of empty seats.” She guided them to a little two-seater table, just inside the swing doors to the kitchen. “Here. You can talk and eat.”

  “So, you look chilled, Christian, you must have had a good week.”

  “No work! You see it does wonders for your state of mind. Though I wish I could say the same for you, Ally. You looked stressed.”

  “No clients, no money, two dead bodies and three suspects. Work is killing me!”

  “Or lack of it.” Christian wiped his hands on a paper napkin. “What’s happened to your clients?”

  “Oh, the Renton Hall job is still on. But I haven’t been paid.” Alice pointed to the photo on the wall above them. “That was another job. But it’s finished now and I don’t have anything else lined up. Anyway, enough of me moaning. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  “I’ve been helping Devi organise the launch of her next collection.” Christian pushed up his shirt sleeves and leaned towards Alice. “It was my idea to hold it at a restaurant I know in Soho.”

  “So Devi told me.”

  “It’s the perfect location and luckily it was available.”

  Christian outlined his plans for the event. Catering by a local Indian restaurant, a sitar player, the models he’d booked. His face lit up, his hands flew around.

  “It all sounds amazing. You’re getting really involved with Devi’s business. What will she do when you go back to work next week?”

  Christian leaned back into his seat. “I may not be going back.” He tapped the table as if to reinforce the point. “Devi loves the work I’m doing for her and she thinks I should do it full time. Events planning, that is. I could even set up my own event management company.”

  “That’s great.” The words sounded enthusiastic even if the voice did not. “If that’s what you want to do. But don’t you need some experience?”

  “Not really. Look, it’s just launches and weddings. And honestly, if you’ve organised any sort of big party before, then you know what to do.”

  “I suppose. Of course you know all about the finance side of things through your accountancy work.”

  “I do. I’ve seen how these companies operate. All too often, they run into trouble when they don’t pay enough attention to cashflow.” Christian pointed at Alice. “Like you. If I were you, I’d send Eleanor Carberry a polite but firm email asking her to pay up within the next five working days.”

  “Well, I’m delighted that you’ve discovered something you enjoy doing so much. That’s very exciting.”

  “I’ve flirted with the idea of setting up my own company before, but Devi’s really encouraged me to go for it. She’s so inspiring.” Christian threw his arms across the table.

  “She certainly is. She—”

  A waiter tripped and knocked his tray against Alice’s shoulder.

  “Scusi,” he said, putting a hand on Alice’s arm. “I’m sorry, so busy today.”

  Christian said, “Look, why don’t we go somewhere quieter, then we can have a proper chat.”

  The Bull’s lounge was practically empty, so Alice plumped for the sofa by the window. She moved the Sunday papers so Devi could sit next to her. Joe and Christian ordered coffees at the bar.

  “I don’t remember when I ate so much pizza,” said Devi. “But it was really good.”

  “It’s the real thing,” said Alice. “Emilio told me that he sources most of his ingredients from Italy.” Alice’s stomach rumbled. She had been so wrapped up with Christian that she had forgotten to actually eat. “I’ve been hearing all about your launch, Devi. It sounds as if it’s all going well.”

  Joe and Christian joined them.

  “Christian is doing such a great job of organising everything. I don’t know what I’d have done without him. He’s going to be a big success in the events planning business.”

  “That’s a big change from accountancy, Christian,” said Joe.

  “It’s time to do something that really interests me.” Christian patted his quiff. “Up to now, I’ve just b
een an observer, while other people enjoy the success of their own businesses.”

  A waiter laid a pot of coffee and a plate of shortbread biscuits on the table.

  “Still, setting up on your own is a dicey business, as you will know,” said Joe.

  “Christian has the perfect experience.” Devi took a cup from Joe. “He’s seen how other companies run into difficulties. He’s already highlighted areas where I’ve been going wrong.”

  Alice took a biscuit. “I wouldn’t have thought you had any problems, Devi, what with your high profile. You must be making a good profit.”

  “I am at the moment. But acting is an unpredictable business and I don’t know if I can sustain my profile in the future. Christian’s made me think about what would happen to my business if I was not in the spotlight so often.”

  “You just need to think of all the possible scenarios,” said Christian. “You don’t want to run into any nasty surprises down the line. Like Cheryl Horton.”

  Alice spluttered as a piece of shortbread caught in her throat. “How did you know that Cheryl’s swimwear business is in trouble?”

  “She told me. Eleanor had said to her that I was some hotshot accountant and she wanted some advice. We met up and Cheryl told me the whole sorry tale.”

  “Well, don’t stop there, Christian. Tell us what happened.”

  Christian put a hand across his chest. “I can’t Alice, that would be breaking a confidence.”

  “Are you saying you’re advising her professionally now?”

  “No, no, it was just a friendly chat.”

  “So, spill Christian.”

  Christian looked out of the window. “Alright. I can tell you that her latest swimwear range is not selling like she hoped. And that means she has cashflow problems; serious ones. She borrowed money to tide her over, but she had existing debts and needed to borrow even more. She was running out of options, so she took desperate measures.”