Small Town Treason (Some Very English Murders Book 5)

by Issy Brooke

  “Upset by what?” Destiny shook her head. “You went off without saying goodbye, but it doesn’t matter. I’d gone upstairs anyway, and put my headphones on.”

  Thank goodness for small, sweet mercies, Penny thought as relief made her skin flush with a tingly sort of heat. “Excellent.” She looked at Wolf.

  He shrugged. “I’ve nearly finished my project on Guy Fawkes,” he said, and she took that to mean he had been concentrating very hard.

  “That’s for school, right?”

  “Yeah. I’ve written a whole essay and it’s got lots of pictures and also a quiz for people to do to find out whether they were a supporter of King James or a dissenter. It’s very interesting.”

  “I am sure it is,” Penny said, thinking it sounded a little dull but quite ingenious for a young lad. “So you’ll both be at the bonfire this weekend?”

  Destiny sneered. “There’s good telly on that night.”

  Wolf huffed. “I might be, but they also might need my help at the dogs’ home. I haven’t decided.”

  Penny wondered if he was trying to live up to Destiny’s opinion that the bonfire celebration was “just for kids” and proving that he wasn’t a “kid.”

  “Well, I’ll be there with Drew,” Penny said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Penny looked at Destiny, wanting to ask how she was, but she didn’t need to say anything. Destiny volunteered the information. “I know, I know,” she said. “I’ve got to sort my school stuff out. That’s why I was talking to Drew just now. He was here. You missed him by about ten minutes.”

  Penny squashed her disappointment. “Do you know what’s happening regarding school yet?” she asked.

  Destiny curled a lip. “Sort of. Some of the teachers have been in school doing work or something, even though it’s holidays and that. One of them, Mrs Wilson, she’s not that bad. She listens to me a bit more than the others but she still tells me off.” Destiny pouted. “Anyway, so apparently she has spoken with Drew and The Acorns unit and stuff. They have told me there’s going to be a meeting on the first day back.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah, I think it’s better that I know that there will be a meeting, at least, and when it is. And you know, I know I’ve got to go to school and I don’t even mind learning stuff, but I wish it were easier. There’s always so much going on and I get dragged into stuff and it’s like there isn’t enough time to think quietly about something so I just say yes and then I’m in trouble.”

  Penny didn’t quite follow it but she nodded. “You’re impulsive.”

  “I think it’s only when there’s too much going on around me. I get hot and confused.”

  “You can’t be the only one. Maybe they can help you with that.”

  Destiny said, “Yeah, I think so. I hope so. I do want to do well, you know.” She turned her big eyes on Penny and her teenage mask dropped for a moment. It was a little girl’s voice that said, “I want to make mum proud of me, you know?”

  “Oh love, she’s more proud of you than you can ever know.”

  Destiny looked at the floor. “I hope so,” she mumbled. “She doesn’t have a lot to be proud of me right now, though, does she?”

  Penny grabbed Destiny and enfolded her in a massive, firm bear-hug. She held on, without speaking, for a long five seconds.

  When Destiny twitched, she let go.

  There was no need to speak and she didn’t want to make the young girl cry.

  She bid them farewell and went on with her walk.

  * * * *

  Penny was still churned up when she got home. She knelt in the kitchen and set about grooming Kali, who thought it was all a big game and liked to try and playfully bite the brush.

  She felt at a loss as to how to help her sister. She had to admit to herself that Ariadne was definitely a suspect. There were hidden depths to Ariadne, and it made Penny wonder.

  She didn’t want to wonder. She wanted certainty.

  And Penny asked herself, should I tell the police about the key?

  But then Ariadne would be questioned again. She was already at the edge of her sanity. Penny rocked back on her heels and her knees cracked. Kali was rolling on her back, demanding more belly rubs. Penny stroked her absently.

  If Ariadne unravelled, it would have more detrimental effects on the kids. Destiny was – hopefully – finding her feet once more. Could Penny really knock them all sideways with this latest revelation?

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I don’t understand what I’m looking at,” Penny said.

  Francine was standing in Penny’s kitchen, holding out a plastic box which appeared to contain a melted collection of brown tennis balls.

  “I’ve made toffee apples for Guy Fawkes’s Night tomorrow,” Francine said.

  “By ‘made’ do you mean ‘destroyed in a freak kitchen accident’?” Penny couldn’t resist saying.

  “Huh.” Francine pulled the box back to her chest and replaced the lid. “Okay, so the wooden sticks keep falling out, and the toffee didn’t do what I thought toffee ought to do, but the sprinkles have stuck to them, at least.”

  “Sprinkles? I thought you’d just dropped them on the floor. I thought that was dust.”

  “You’re not having any of them. I shall enjoy them all myself.”

  “And you’re welcome to them. Cup of tea?”

  “Ooh, that would be lovely.” Francine grinned, and Penny stuck her tongue out, and they both sat at the table to catch up on recent events.

  Francine listened carefully. “Can I see this mind map?” she asked.

  “Umm…”

  “What?”

  Reluctantly, Penny went to fetch it from where it had been hidden behind the sofa in the living room.

  “What’s the problem?” Francine asked.

  Penny pointed wordlessly to Ariadne’s name.

  Francine sat back and pursed her lips. “She’s right to be on there, you know.”

  “I know. What about Kevin, though?” She had told Francine about his surprise visit.

  “You could move him down the list.”

  “What, to below Ariadne?”

  Francine looked up and met her eyes. “Yes.”

  Penny didn’t want to do that. “Kevin has more means and motive and opportunity than any of them. Ariadne just had … well, a key, and maybe a motive.” She turned a pen over and over in her hands. “And then there’s William and Charlotte. What do you think about them?”

  “It’s obvious; they have to be on here. Either of them could be guilty. Ariadne might not know about mustard gas – though she knew that Julie was an obsessive cleaner. William, though, knew about both things. And he lived there.”

  Again, Penny felt a nagging reluctance to entertain such a thought. “William seems such a nice man. And I feel sorry for Charlotte.”

  “You’ve done this before,” Francine reminded her. “You’ve had people pegged as suspects just because you don’t like them. And you don’t consider people you do like.”

  “I know, I know! Okay, then. We need to look into Charlotte and William a little more. Let’s get the coloured pens and work on this.”

  Francine began to draw spirals around Charlotte’s name. “Charlotte has benefited from the death of Julie,” she said. “She has inherited.”

  “Yeah, but who would kill their own mother?”

  “She didn’t know she was her mother, then, did she?”

  Penny nodded. “That’s true. As far as we know.”

  “What about – oh, I have an idea!” Francine grabbed a different pen and outlined William’s name. “I’ve got it! Listen. I think we can all agree that William did know that Julie was Charlotte’s mother, right?” She paused dramatically. “So perhaps William did it. He did it because he, at least, knew that it would benefit Charlotte!”

  Penny stared at her. The pieces fit but her heart was heavy. “You might be right. He has the knowledge, the means, and that gives him a motivation.
But I’m not convinced.”

  “Why, because you like him?”

  “That, and because Julie did so much for him, you know? Why would he kill the person who supported him so much?”

  “The mind of a killer is a complicated thing,” Francine said.

  “But is it, though?”

  “I don’t know,” Francine confessed. “It just sounded like a cool thing to say. Anyway, I saw William on his scooter in town the other day.”

  “And he was at the history event,” Penny said. “It’s odd. Before Julie’s death, I never saw him around at all.” Then something occurred to her. “Oh my goodness. He could have killed her to be free of her! I wonder what was really going on behind closed doors in that house.”

  “Strange, isn’t it?” Francine added some more notes to the increasingly tangled web of lines on the paper.

  “I can’t make head nor tail of this now,” Penny said, and rubbed at her eyes.

  “I bet the police can’t, either,” Francine said. “They need us, you know.”

  “Everyone seems to need me right now,” Penny grumbled. Then she remembered Drew’s insistence that he was there to help her. “On the bright side, I’ve got a date for tomorrow night!”

  “What? Why didn’t you say when I first came in?”

  “Well, you know, the murder and all that.”

  Francine dismissed the crime with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “Whatever. Come on, tell me everything. It is with Drew, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it’s with Drew. We’re meeting here and walking down to the bonfire on the slipe.”

  “What are you going to wear?”

  “A massive coat,” Penny said. “It’s going to be cold!”

  “Have you still got that make-up I gave you?” Francine asked.

  “Er … probably.”

  Francine launched herself to her feet. This was exactly the sort of challenge that she relished. “Get hold of Ariadne. Tell her she’s needed here. Let’s go and look at your wardrobe.”

  * * * *

  Ariadne did not come. She did not even reply to the text that Penny dutifully sent.

  But for a while, Penny was able to forget her worries about her extended family, as she and Francine sat on her bed and acted like a pair of teenage girls once more. Francine knew about colours and eyeshadows and lipsticks, and urged Penny to be bold within the parameters of her skin tone. Penny had stuck to a bland and corporate palette while she had been working, but now she allowed herself to be more daring.

  “A scarf,” Francine was saying. “No, not that hideous knitted thing. Doctor Who would be ashamed to wear that. Take it to the dogs’ home as bedding. You need to layer up with exciting accessories, like floaty pashminas, if the rest of you is going to be all bundled up and hidden in a coat.”

  Her lecture was interrupted by a knock at the door. “That’s probably Ariadne,” Penny said.

  Francine followed Penny down the stairs, but it was not Ariadne who stood on the doorstep.

  It was Kevin.

  “Hi, Penny,” he said. “Have you – oh, hello.” He stopped when he saw Francine behind Penny.

  “Hi,” Penny said. “Oh, this is my friend Francine. Francine, meet Kevin.”

  “Hello! You’re the window cleaner, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said slowly.

  “And a suspect,” Francine added blithely and Penny groaned.

  Kevin didn’t groan. He glowered. “Are you spreading my private business around?”

  “No. Francine’s helping me with the investigation.”

  “Oh really? That’s why I’m here, as it happens. So, have you found the culprit and cleared my name yet? Also, have you been punched in the face?”

  “No, no and no, definitely not.” Penny rubbed the purple and blue eyeshadow from her skin and said to Francine, “I told you I was worried about that.”

  “Sorry. Come on, let’s go and show Kevin what we’ve got so far.” Francine pushed past Penny and went through to the kitchen like she owned the place.

  Kevin and Penny had to follow.

  He refused to take a seat. He was agitated, pacing around the small room as he talked. “It’s getting to me, it really is. There are all sorts of rumours flying around. The police came and searched my van and my storage shed yesterday, and they took things away for examination. The neighbours were watching, and everything! I should have been working today but both my jobs cancelled at the last minute. I’ve got a regular round, you know, but the work is drying up. How am I supposed to pay the mortgage, eh? I can’t… I can’t…”

  And to Penny’s horror, Kevin’s angry rant suddenly dissolved into a puddle of tears. He slumped against the wall, leaning into it as he hid his face in his bony hands and sobbed.

  Penny felt mortified on his behalf. She was frozen in shock, and didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to make things worse.

  Francine stepped in. She went up to him with the box of toffee apples.

  He peeped through his fingers, and spoke almost angrily. “What are they?”

  “Toffee apples,” she explained. “Come and sit down, and we’ll have a proper look at the investigation. We have moved you down the list, you know.”

  “I should hope so!”

  Francine put her free hand on his arm. To Penny’s amazement, he didn’t shake her off. Francine ignored his angry words, and continued to talk calmly. “It’s been a very difficult time for you,” she said. “And having a good reputation is very important for you in this town. I can see that.”

  “You’re right about that,” he muttered, but he allowed himself to be led to the spare wooden chair at the kitchen table.

  “So let’s get a brew,” Francine said, nodding at Penny who jumped to the order. “And have a bite to eat … sorry, yes, we’ll need kitchen paper or plates or something, Penny, would you mind…? Thank you. Right. Okay, so let’s clear our heads and move forward on this.”

  Half of what she was saying was nonsense, Penny realised, but it didn’t matter. She was listening to Kevin, and talking in a clear and positive way. It was enough.

  Trying to eat the toffee apples made a lot of mess. It focussed them on something faintly ridiculous, and the atmosphere calmed. It seemed the best way to ignore Kevin’s emotional outburst and give him some dignity back.

  Once they were done, and had washed their hands, Kevin had regained enough composure to be able to talk rationally about the murder case.

  Penny was hesitant to reveal all their new suspicions about Ariadne. She wasn’t comfortable with facing the possibility that her sister was a very real suspect, and luckily Francine picked up on her reluctance. They showed Kevin the mind map, and pointed mainly towards William and Charlotte.

  “And no other suspects have come up?” he asked.

  “Not as far as we know,” Penny said. “Just you … four, I’m afraid.”

  “And you’re still counting your sister in all this?” he asked, his finger tapping on Ariadne’s name.

  Penny tensed. “Yes. And you,” she added.

  “Hmm. I suppose we both still have to be on the list. How is your sister coping with all this?”

  “Not very well. As I am sure you can understand,” Penny added pointedly.

  “Quite, quite. For what it’s worth, I don’t think she has enough of a motive. I’ve got more reason than she has. You may as well delete the both of us, honestly.”

  “The police are still interested in both of you, so we have to keep you on the list, just to be fair,” Penny said.

  “Ugh. But why would the police keep her on the list? What do they know that we don’t?”

  Penny felt hot and she looked down. “This is difficult,” she said. “I found some stuff out about my own sister lately that I didn’t know before.” She could hear her voice wobbling and it was silly.

  Now it was Kevin’s turn to be kind. He patted her hand. “Families, eh? I don’t think it’s that big a deal.”

  “Yo
u don’t understand.” And she sketched out the revelation of Ariadne’s criminal past.

  Kevin’s reaction surprised her. “Pshaw,” he said. “Most of us did daft things in our youth. Not all of us got caught, that’s all.”

  “It’s really affected her,” Penny said. “It’s just the idea, for her, that she made a mistake and it’s plagued her ever since. You’re right. Most people around her don’t care. It doesn’t change how I feel about her, or anything.”

  Francine butted in, saying, “And really the police shouldn’t let it prejudice their opinion of her, should it?”

  “Are they, though?” Kevin mused thoughtfully. “From what you’ve just described, it seems like Ariadne herself is letting it prejudice her own opinion of herself far more than anyone else.”

  “The past is a huge influencer,” Francine said.

  “True,” Kevin agreed. “And in a way, are we not all prisoners of our past?”

  Penny sat in stunned silence as things began to fall into place in her head.

  But she needed Kevin to leave so that she could talk about it privately to Francine.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As soon as Kevin had gone, Penny brewed up an extra-strong pot of coffee and laid out a fresh piece of paper on the kitchen table.

  “Sit down,” she ordered Francine.

  “We need to finish your preparations for your date with Drew,” Francine said.

  “No. This is more important. I’ve got a strong idea who the murderer is now, thanks to Kevin. Listen…”

  Penny used four different coloured pens, which illustrated the gravity of the situation, and talked quickly, outlining her suspicions on the paper. Francine listened intently, asking questions from time to time.

  When Penny was done, Francine sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the paper.

  Eventually, Francine said, “You are onto something. I reckon you could have worked it out. It’s all psychological, isn’t it?”