Sculpt a Murder

by Lily Ashton

  “Rats! I only turned my back for a second. I’m sorry Joe, I wanted to cook dinner for you.” Alice bent over the sink, trying to hide her burning face as she scraped off little bits of burnt onion with the spoon.

  Joe gently rubbed the back of her neck. “Hey, no worries. Leave that.” He eased the pan handle from her hand. “We’ll go to The Bull for supper.”

  An extra glass of wine encouraged Alice to unburden her client worries to Joe over dinner, so the next morning he took her to work with him. His friend had agreed to photograph a local businesswoman at home, but then found he had double-booked himself and asked Joe to cover for him. Joe did not know either the woman or the house, so he figured he could do with another pair of hands. The shoot would just take the morning and Alice was only too happy for an opportunity to make up for her cooking disaster.

  Barbara Roseland’s son invited Joe to set up wherever he felt appropriate; his mother would be down shortly. Joe and Alice wandered into the dining room, a minimalist affair with a long black table, grey carpet and bare walls. Next door, a pale pink and green living room with plump cushions and woolly throws, was more inviting, but it too had bare walls.

  “So, what do you think?” said the sultry-voiced chief executive.

  “Gosh.” Alice took in the traffic light red of Barbara’s fitted dress. “It looks amazing.”

  “Thank you, but I meant the backdrop.” She shook hands with them both. “Where would you like to set up, Joe?”

  Alice sucked in her cheeks and looked at the floor.

  Barbara smiled. “I’m glad you like the dress. I was just trying it on. I’m taking my husband out for an anniversary dinner tonight and I wanted to make a special effort.”

  Joe picked up his camera case. “As the pictures are for the financial pages, I think the dining room is best. I’ll set up in there.”

  “Good, that’s what I thought too. I’ll put on a suit, won’t be long.”

  Joe had everything under control, so Alice sat down to watch. The shoot did not take long. Which was a pity, because Alice had not seen Joe at work before and she was enjoying the experience. Joe gave Barbara directions, which instead of sounding like instructions, came over as friendly advice. Alice noticed how quickly Barbara relaxed and did as Joe asked, responding to his praise with little giggles. Alice also noticed that Joe did nothing to discourage her!

  Joe finished shooting and began discussing the images with Barbara, so Alice volunteered to make coffee. She strolled through the hallway and into a large breakfast room. On the fridge, photos were held in place by a red lobster magnet, its legs wobbling as Alice opened the door. There were no pictures on any of the walls. Alice mentioned it to Barbara when she returned.

  “Well that’s a bone of contention between Tony and me. We have completely different taste and, frankly, can’t agree on how to decorate the house. That’s why this room has Tony’s preferred utility look. But I got to do the living room and that’s another style altogether.” Barbara added milk to her coffee. “We have a collection of paintings which we both enjoy, but we can’t agree on where they should go.”

  Alice looked at Joe, but he was removing a lens from his camera. “I could help you, if you like.” Was it inappropriate to pitch her services on Joe’s job? “I’m a curator and I could advise you and your husband on where to hang your art.”

  Joe smiled his approval.

  “That could be the answer,” said Barbara. “We have some good pieces, but they’re languishing upstairs in the spare bedroom. It’s such a shame.”

  “Well, think about it.” Alice pulled a card from her bag. “Just give me a call and I can come over and chat to you and your husband.”

  Barbara took the card and put it on the table. “Actually, we could talk now. I had blocked out the whole morning for the shoot, but Joe’s been so efficient.” Barbara grinned at Joe. “I’ve got some spare time. Give me a minute to get changed.” And before Alice could respond, Barbara was jogging through the door.

  Joe zipped up his camera bag. “Well I see you didn’t waste any time. Looks like you’ve got a new client.”

  “You don’t mind do you?”

  “It wasn’t my job to begin with, so we’ve both got something out of Finn’s bad diary management.” Joe took the car keys from his pocket. “I need to sort out these pictures, so I’ll take your Defender. Call me when you’re finished and I’ll pick you up.”

  Barbara, now on her third outfit, saw Joe out of the front door with a giggly smile.

  The house was newly built, one of only two on the site of an old riverside warehouse to the south of Great Wheaton. In the style of a Georgian country house, the rooms were large and square, with high ceilings and sash windows. But there was solar-powered heating and a runoff water supply.

  “It was the eco features that attracted me to the house. I’m phasing in a series of environmentally friendly initiatives at my company. I felt I ought to practice what I preach, if I’m going to get the staff on board.”

  The spare bedroom was indeed spare. There was no furniture or boxes of stuff. Just a series of artworks, protected with bubble wrap and propped up against all four walls.

  “We’ve built up the collection over the twenty years we’ve been married. We just bought pieces we liked, so there’s no theme or order.”

  “I’m glad you said that. I’ve worked with people who buy paintings for investment purposes and while I appreciate that art is a commodity, it’s good to think that people really like the artworks they buy.”

  Barbara nodded. “And I would love to get this lot on the walls. Somehow.” She shut the door as if closing away the rift with her husband. “Alice, can I show you something? I’ve bought a painting for Tony that I’m going to give to him later. I’d love your opinion.”

  In her bedroom, Barbara eased an artwork out of a drawer in the wardrobe and handed it to Alice. Rows of bright blue rowing boats packed tightly together, with lines of rope tethering them to a point beyond the area of view. The work had a thick white mount and a thin black frame.

  “We were on holiday in Essaouria last month and Tony loved the harbour. So I bought him this in a local gallery.” Barbara crossed her arms.

  “Simple but effective,” said Alice. “And that blue! It’s like a royal blue, but richer and highlighted by that white sunlight … It’s just gorgeous.”

  “Oh, that’s a relief. I was about to wrap it up last night when I had second thoughts.” Barbara took the painting and tossing some clothes out of the way, she laid it on the bed.

  Alice peered at a swimsuit and matching sarong. “I recognise those. They’re from Cheryl Horton’s beachwear collection.”

  “They are! So you buy her things too?”

  “They’re out of my price range, sadly. But I saw a picture of these in her office last week.”

  Barbara sat on the bed. “So, you know Cheryl? I met her at a businesswomen’s lunch a couple of years ago and I’ve run into her a few times since. I love her designs. How long have you known her?”

  “Only a couple of weeks, I met her through Eleanor Carberry. I’m working on the Renton Hall refurbishment.”

  “That place is going to be fabulous when it’s finished. I dropped Cheryl off there one time and got to look inside. And what a wonderful decking area out the back by the lake. They’re going to have some great weddings and parties out there.”

  Alice moved the sarong and sat down. “It’s a lovely project. I’m really enjoying the job.”

  “But it’s a whole hotel and a huge project, for you. Look, if you don’t have time to hang my paintings at the moment, it can wait. The works have been wrapped up for months, a few weeks won’t make any difference.”

  Alice protested and Barbara tried to insist. In the end, they agreed that Alice would find a few hours that week to view the collection and the house. Then she wou
ld work up some ideas and let Barbara know when she was ready to discuss them.

  “And please, take all the time you need. There really is no rush. Although, I would like to get them up before Christmas if that’s possible.”

  “It’s six months away, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Barbara took Alice downstairs, where they compared diaries and made a date.

  “It was terrible about Nick Carberry,” said Barbara. “I met him once at a drinks party in London.” Barbara sat on a stool at the kitchen counter. “The police have been pretty tight-lipped, I’ve not heard of any arrests. Do they even have a suspect?”

  Alice had almost forgotten that she was Nathan Salisbury’s number one suspect.

  “Er, not that I know of. Though I did hear that Cheryl might be a suspect.” Alice noted Barbara’s raised eyebrow. “I mean, of course, everyone close to Nick has to be a suspect, before they can be eliminated.”

  Was that too leading? Alice may have nudged Barbara towards a negative view of Cheryl. Oh well, too late now.

  “I suppose. Though now you’ve mentioned Cheryl, she comes over as all sweetness and light, but she can be manipulative. I have two business acquaintances that Cheryl, very skilfully I may say, played off against each other. Not only that, but she made sure that she came out on top.” Barbara folded her shirt sleeves to her elbow. “We all have our faults and I’m not making any judgements. It won’t stop me socialising with Cheryl, but I’d be reluctant to work with her.”

  “I heard she had money problems too. Do you think there’s any truth to that?”

  Barbara looked at the clock on the wall. “Probably. In fact, her financial woes are well known on the businesswomen’s network. It seems that Cheryl and money are quickly parted. And that’s not helped by the off-beat decisions she makes. She asked me my advice on something once, then completely ignored it. Not that I’m suggesting I’m some corporate genius. But when Cheryl said that other people had already advised the same course of action as me, I thought she might take notice.”

  Alice considered whether to ask her next question. But she decided that when you are a murder suspect, no question should be off-limits.

  “So, given what you know about Cheryl, do you think it likely that, if she got herself into a really difficult financial situation, she could kill her way out of it?”

  Barbara hesitated. “Cheryl is often in messy financial situations. But if she found herself in a much worse situation than normal, would that would drive her to murder? I really wouldn’t like to say.”

  Chapter 22

  There was a police car parked outside Renton Hall when Alice arrived. Delighted at having secured a new job and much-needed income from Barbara Roseland, Alice ignored it and skipped into the house. She calculated that once she had deducted her outgoings, she would have a cushion of cash to take her into the autumn. But when she saw Nathan Salisbury sitting on Gina’s new sofa in the entrance lobby, Alice stiffened. Nathan could be here for any number of reasons; but one of them could be to arrest her for murder.

  The detective stood up and with two easy strides he was by her side. He led her up to the attic.

  “I wanted to have a quiet chat with you and I thought this would be the best place.”

  Nathan beckoned Alice to the chaise longue and sat next to her. Alice had the feeling that this little chat was not going to be much fun.

  “After you gave me your account of how you had come to handle the service revolver, that is the murder weapon, I made some enquiries. I did tell you that I would have to verify your story.” Nathan turned his shoulders so that he was facing Alice. He probably thought it was more open and engaging than speaking to her side-on, but it only served to make him look bigger and more serious. “So, I’ve spoken to Eleanor Carberry and Gina Salvini, who were both in the house at the time when you say you picked up the revolver.”

  Alice’s stomach knotted.

  “Although they were in the house at the time they were not, of course, here in the attic. They didn’t see what happened and that doesn’t help you. So, what I want you to do” – Nathan put an arm along the back of the seat – “is to run through your movements again, so I can see exactly what you did.”

  “You mean like a re-enactment?”

  Nathan smiled. “Yes.” He stood up. “Let’s get started. Tell me what you were doing just before you got to the cupboard. Better still, walk me through it.”

  Alice acted out the episode, incorporating every single detail she could remember. Nathan watched and listened. He nodded at times, but otherwise there was no emotion on his chiselled face.

  “And then I decided to log the contents of this cupboard. I don’t know anything about guns, but they looked old, antique even, and I assumed some of them were collectors’ items. And that they would be valuable. In any event, my role here is to catalogue everything.”

  Alice walked across the boards towards the cabinet. She put a clammy hand to her head. “I opened the door so I could see the pieces more clearly. I needed a full description for the inventory. Actually, I should have picked them all up and done a proper investigation; I’m supposed to note down the exact condition of all the items.”

  “Can you open the cabinet door for me please, like you did before?”

  Alice’s mouth dropped open. “But then my fingerprints would be on the key.”

  “Your fingerprints are already over the cabinet and all of the pieces inside. However, if it makes you happier, I’ll record the rest of our meeting on my phone.” Nathan set his phone to video and propped it up on the back of the chaise longue.

  Alice opened the door and was hit with a musty aroma. The first time around the smell had excited her. She felt as if she was the first person in years to open up the cabinet, like opening Tutankhamun’s tomb. But now it just smelt like rotting mushrooms. Alice glanced over her shoulder and Nathan gave an encouraging nod. She stretched her hand into the cabinet.

  There was a gap on the shelf where the service revolver had been. Improvising, Alice picked up a similar weapon on the shelf below. This one was smaller and not so heavy. As it nestled in her hand, Alice was struck by the gun’s ugliness. It was hard to see why people prized such items. The more ornate pieces, with silver filigree, polished wooden grips and healthy price tags, was understandable. But this ordinary handgun had been designed for a specific purpose, and not an artistic one.

  “I’m not sure how it happened, but the next thing I knew I’d knocked the shelf and it fell down.” Alice knelt on the ground. “There was glass all over the place and some of the objects fell out too. So I picked them up and put them back in the cabinet.”

  Re-enactment complete, Nathan switched off the camera and popped his phone in his jacket pocket. “Thank you for that Alice. I know it’s not easy to re-live these situations, but it helps me to understand the scenario. You were doing a job that involved handling the guns in the cabinet. I believe you.”

  Alice did not realise that she had been holding her breath until a shot of air escaped through her parted lips. Somehow, she could feel a ‘but’ coming.

  “But, my problem remains the same.” Nathan perched on the corner of Wilfred’s desk. “I have two dead bodies, one murder weapon with your fingerprints on it and no other suspects.”

  “Yes, I can see how that would be a problem.” Spots of rain tinkled against the big round window. Heavy clouds hung low over the house. Alice felt as if a cloud of steel was hanging over her head.

  “However, I have what I hope is a solution. You and I can work together. It’s a bit unorthodox, I know, but you did such a great job of solving the Jason Marley case. I mean you got to the culprit long before we did. And this time, you’re right here at Renton Hall where the murders took place.” Nathan spread his hands. “So, what do you think?”

  Alice had no idea what to think. On the one hand, she
was flattered that Nathan had asked for her help. And she was delighted that he had finally acknowledged that it was her solo efforts that had identified Jason Marley’s killer. On the other hand, she was still a suspect herself. And with her own face on the police incident room’s wall, pointing the finger at somebody else would be a bit, well … awkward. But going back to the first hand, Alice did not think she should say no to Nathan. So, she didn’t.

  “Excellent. I think our arrangement will work well.” Nathan punched a fist lightly into the palm of his hand. “Now, I’ve got to spend my evening wading through a stack of files that DI Riley’s unearthed. A missing person’s cold case he’s been working on in his spare time.” Nathan grinned. “He should get a proper hobby!”

  Alice watched Nathan stride across the attic and disappear down the stairs. Would working with Nathan really work? Alice did not mind sharing some information with him, but she could not shake off the feeling that he might be looking for her to slip up. Bringing your main, your only suspect, into the net was just the sort of well-thought-out tactic that Nathan would employ. It was understandable, but should Alice willingly stray so close to DI Nathan Salisbury’s net?

  Nick Carberry’s face peered out from Alice’s incident board. Alice put both hands behind her head and stared right back. Two knocks on the side window signalled that her friend was about to appear.

  “Come on down, Livvie Manners, and bring those chocolate brownies with you.”

  Livvie put a cake box on the kitchen counter. “I’m out of brownies, in fact I practically sold out of all my cakes today; these are all that’s left.”

  Alice lifted the lid. Half a slice of ginger cake, a flapjack missing one corner and a cupcake with purple icing. “That’s it?”

  “’Fraid so. Though as my till has been ringing all day, I’m one happy lady.”