Peridale Cafe Mystery 19 - Brownies and Bloodshed

by Agatha Frost

  Julia gulped, her heart quivering in her chest. Was Eugene onto something? Marley’s lost money provided a clear motive, and he was present at the wedding, but something didn’t sit right with Julia.

  “I know him better than anyone,” Eugene repeated, “and I’m scared of him right now. He won’t talk to me. It’s like someone has sucked out his soul. They say that happens after a person kills, don’t they?”

  “Have you talked to him?” Julia asked, scratching the side of her head.

  “What do I say?”

  “Be honest.”

  “Oh, Marley, my darling, would you turn the light off? Oh, and by the way, did you coldheartedly murder my brother in a vat of liquid nitrogen?” Eugene’s voice grew louder with each word. “It’s hardly pillow talk, is it? You don’t know him like I do. He’s as stubborn as an ox, and he had anger issues in his youth.”

  “But he looks like a monk,” Barker remarked.

  “Exactly.” Eugene’s lips tightened. “He has to try a lot harder than most others to find his zen. He had a tough upbringing. Like your Jessie, he grew up in the care system, and while he’ll never admit it, I know it caused irreparable damage. I love him despite his cracks. We all have them, but his go deeper. He’s spent a lifetime trying to heal, but a broken vase is still cracked when you glue it back together. It still leaks water.”

  “Marley is leaking?” Barker chuckled.

  “It’s a metaphor, dear!” Eugene snapped, cheeks flushing again. “He doesn’t forgive easily. He’s livid with you, Julia. He thought you were bonding over your little brownie project, and then, at Dot’s, he felt like you tossed that aside at Dot’s to throw accusations.”

  “I didn’t actually accuse anyone of anything,” Julia replied, glancing at Barker. “That was my dear husband. I like Marley a lot. I like both of you.”

  “That’s very sweet of you to say, dear.” Eugene rested a hand on her arm for a moment. “I like Marley, too. He’s the other half of me in every sense. We balance each other out, but if he…”

  Eugene’s voice trailed off, tears welling along the thick lashes framing his large eyes.

  “Why do you think Marley could have murdered Ian?” Julia probed, hoping to gauge how much Eugene knew about the money troubles. “To have put this together, you must have a motive in mind.”

  Eugene dithered and chomped down on his thumbnail, his eyes darting from side to side. A chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ floated from the pub, the jolly music cutting through the tension like a razor-sharp knife.

  “Money, dear,” Eugene whispered as a passing car’s headlights lit up his hazel eyes. “I don’t think Marley knows I know, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I don’t know how much Marley gave Ian, but it must have been enough to cause stress. On the morning of the wedding, I overheard them talking on the B&B porch. Sound travels quite easily up to the bedrooms if you have the windows open. That’s how I knew you were down here. What do I do, dear?”

  “Talk to him.” Julia clutched Eugene’s trembling hands. “Don’t accuse him of murder, don’t even mention it. Tell him you know about the money. He might be too scared to talk to you about it.”

  “Did he say anything to you?” Eugene squeezed Julia’s hands tight. “You can tell me.”

  Julia stared into Eugene’s eyes, Marley’s money secret on the tip of her tongue. She swallowed it back down; it wasn’t her place.

  “He said he was worried about affording the cruise you have your heart set on,” Julia said carefully, not technically a lie.

  “The cruise?” Eugene chuckled. “He’s worried about a silly cruise? Oh, what a mess this is. Maybe I should talk to him.”

  “You should.”

  “I will.” Eugene’s hands slipped from Julia’s as he nodded. His eyes glazed over. “Yes, I will. Tomorrow. He’d never forgive me if I woke him up now. He needs at least twelve hours of sleep to feel human. He’s like a cat.”

  Eugene bid them goodbye and scurried back down the alley, leaving Julia and Barker in the dark.

  “Do you think he could be onto something?” Barker ran his hands over his stubbly jaw. “After what Christie said, I was so sure it was Rex.”

  “Marley told me about the money,” Julia whispered. “He gave Ian £10,000, and not getting it back has sent him to the edge of ruin. He’s under a lot of stress right now.”

  “Enough stress to commit murder?”

  Julia hesitated. “Something tells me no.”

  “You don’t suppose—”

  “That Eugene is trying to frame his husband to distract us?” Julia interjected, knowing exactly what the excited, boyish grin on her husband’s face indicated. “No, I don’t. You’ve spent too long writing books, Barker Brown.”

  He stopped himself from replying before his lips formed the first syllable. They stared at each other as an American accent grew closer, hesitating in the alley. When Julia realised the voice was coming from behind the pub and the B&B, she grabbed Barker’s hand and dragged him out into the glow of the streetlight. They hid against the wall of the pub, neither daring to speak.

  “Relax, boss.” The American voice echoed down the alley despite its low tone. “I’m on my way there now. How do I know? Because I hacked their phones and these villagers aren’t scared of spilling their secrets. Yeah, all of them. No, not all the villagers, just the ones close to Cropper. No, don’t worry, it was easy. Don’t you trust me, boss? I’ll have it before midnight, and I’ll be sailing home before sunrise. Yes, boss. Don’t worry, my tracks are covered. Expect my signal before midnight.”

  Rex Davis emerged from the alley. He had replaced his sharp suit with an entirely black outfit that covered him from head to toe, complete with a heavy-looking black backpack. If not for his voice, Julia wouldn’t have recognised him. All thoughts of George Clooney vanished. Pushing herself into the wall, Julia watched Rex drop the phone. His heel met the screen, and he tossed the broken device into the bin before marching up the street without a second look.

  “Seconds to decide,” Barker whispered, his fingers twining with Julia’s, their backs still flat against the pub. “Are we in or out?”

  “We could just see where he’s going,” Julia replied, her voice trembling. “It could be private investigator practice for you.”

  “Yeah.” Barker nodded, his hand tightening around Julia’s. “Practice. C’mon, let’s go before he vanishes.”

  14

  T hey caught up with Rex Davis in no time and followed him out of the village and onto a winding country lane into the unknown. Rex glanced over his shoulder a couple of times. Julia and Barker were careful to follow unseen, darting behind cars, bushes, and phone boxes while never letting Rex leave their sight.

  “Christie wants me to text him the location when we get there,” Barker whispered as he slipped his phone into his pocket. “He has officers on standby. He’d come now and just scoop Rex up, but catching him in the act is the only way he’ll ever get charged with anything. Honestly, Julia, I think you should—”

  “Don’t tell me I need to go home again.”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “And you’re my husband.” They ducked into the shadow of the bushes as Rex glanced back again. “Neither of us should be doing this, and yet we are. Why? Maybe we’re too curious for our own good. We can turn back now, or we can carry on, but we’re sticking together no matter what. Besides, we’re just observing. We’re not confronting him. We’re just seeing where he’s going.”

  “It will be hard not to punch him in the face,” Barker muttered, cracking his knuckles, “especially after what he did to Jessie’s flat.”

  “You’re not the punching kind.”

  “I could be.”

  “Well, tonight isn’t the night to find out.” Julia pushed Barker’s clenched fist down. “Observe and report, remember? We’re Christie’s eyes until he can charge in.”

  They spent the rest of the mission repeating the same line in various forms, convincing th
emselves they would not get involved once they had passed the information on to Christie. They sounded rather convincing, even if Julia knew deep down it would all go out the window if things took a turn.

  “I think I know where we’re going,” Julia stated, the lights of a village appearing in the darkness of the curving Cotswold country hills. “That’s Riverswick.”

  Ten minutes later, they darted across the bridge over the village’s namesake river. They followed Rex all the way down the main street, and she wasn’t surprised when he turned left at the bottom, taking them to the Factory Bottoms.

  “Thomas’s kickboxing studio is down here,” Julia whispered as they blended into the crowd of partygoers outside the River Lounge. “And he lives in one of the apartments, too.”

  “Do you think Thomas has what Rex is looking for?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  But before they could go after him, two familiar faces jumped out from the crowd outside the bar. Julia’s best friend, Roxy Carter, stumbled over, a drink in her hand, with her girlfriend, Violet, right behind her.

  “Julia!” Roxy cried, slurring her words, her fiery red hair deflating from the bun she had put it in. “What areya doin out here? Didn’t think thisss was yer scene.”

  Julia and Barker had the same look on their faces: deep horror badly concealed behind toothy smiles and too-wide eyes.

  “Can you believe what I have to put up with?” Violet remarked after smiling her greetings to them both, her Russian accent as distinct as could be. “She always thinks she can keep up with me. She is always wrong.”

  “That’s only coz they put vodka in your bottle when you were a baby instead of milk,” Roxy said, throwing an arm around Violet’s shoulders. “Why don’t you come join us for a drink? Ohhhhhhh, that would be sooooooo fun!”

  “Aren’t you a schoolteacher?” Barker asked, eyes darting between Roxy and Rex, who had paused outside the studio.

  “Aren’t you unemployed?” After a giggle followed by a hiccough, Roxy prodded Barker in the chest. “Where are your new specs, geekazoid? It’s Friday night! C’mon! Live a little! You’re not dead yet.”

  “I’m pregnant, remember.”

  Roxy frowned at Julia as though this was news to her. “Oh, yeah. You’re going to have a baby!”

  “That’s usually what pregnancy results in, Rox.” Julia caught her friend as she staggered forward to put her hands on Julia’s stomach. “Nothing to feel yet. Just feels like I had a huge McDonald’s.”

  “Oh, I loooove McDonald’s.” Roxy turned to Violet and attempted to brush her girlfriend’s silvery hair from her face, poking her in the eye instead. “Can we get McDonald’s?”

  “I apologise on my girlfriend’s behalf,” Violet said, steadying Roxy. “I think it’s time we go home.”

  “But I’m having fun!”

  “You drink like an English person.”

  “I am English.”

  “Exactly.” Violet hoisted Roxy up as she attempted to reach out and grab at Julia’s curls. “C’mon. There’s a boxset of Drag Race with your name on it back at the flat, and we can ask the taxi to go through the drive-thru.”

  Roxy blinked slowly, glancing up and down the street. She glimpsed into the bar and attempted to return, but Violet maintained her firm grip. Roxy suddenly gasped and clutched Julia’s arm.

  “I saw Shilpa’s nails!” she said in an excited whisper. “They were soooooo pretty! Katie’s getting better, ain’t she? Tell ‘er I’ll come ‘round and she can ‘ave another crack.”

  “Say goodnight, Roxy,” Violet ordered, pulling her away.

  “G’night, Roxy,” she said, snorting to herself. “You’re all boring!”

  Julia and Barker watched Violet lead Roxy up the street. They waited until Roxy stopped turning around to wave before marching right past the nightclub.

  “We’ve lost him!” Barker cried, hands going up to his hair. “Dammit, Julia!”

  “How’s that my fault?”

  “She’s your friend.”

  “My best friend, might I remind you.” Julia nudged him. “Even schoolteachers are allowed to blow off steam now and then.”

  “Why couldn’t she have blown off steam when we weren’t tailing a criminal?” Barker looked both ways and set off across the road. “C’mon. He can’t have gone far.”

  They passed the door of the studio and carried on to the bottom of the street. Rex could have gone in either direction, but they silently agreed to walk around the back of the building. They stopped in their tracks when they spotted Rex stood outside a pair of double doors behind the studio.

  Like a lot of Victorian-era mills, the factory had been built along the edge of the river, with only a narrow gravel path separating them. Bushes, benches, bins, and fishing spots littered the path. Julia and Barker remained in the shadows and watched Rex. Many doors dotted the wall, but the gangster seemed to know exactly where he needed to go. Without a second’s hesitation, he reached into his black jacket and pulled out a pair of bolt cutters.

  “Christie wasn’t lying,” Barker whispered, his hands firmly on Julia’s shoulders. “This guy is a professional.”

  “Try not to sound so impressed.”

  Rex caught the chain before it could fall and rattle against the path. He tossed it over his shoulder without looking. It plopped in the water, the splash barely registering above the din of the bar across the road. Rex rested the bolt cutters against the wall before squatting and pulling a metal cannister from the backpack. He fiddled with the lock as what appeared to be smoke obscured his movements. Seconds later, a crack split the air, and the metal doors swung outwards. Rex tossed the canister into the river, picked up the bolt cutters, returned them to his jacket, and walked inside.

  “I’ve texted Christie,” Barker said, pushing his phone back into his jeans.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Get a closer look at that lock,” Barker replied, nodding at the door. “Aren’t you slightly intrigued? C’mon, the police will be here in no time.”

  Hand in hand, they hurried over to the open doors. Barker crouched before the lock, which was covered in a frosty layer of quickly melting ice.

  “Unbelievable!” Barker grinned from ear to ear. “Who is this guy? He froze the lock using liquid nitrogen. It’s a fire door, not an ice door. Ice expands, steel doesn’t.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Ever seen Ant-Man?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Never mind.” Barker stood. “You’re right, I am impressed.”

  “But who carries a canister of liquid nitrogen around with them?”

  “A man serious about covering his tracks.” Barker glanced into the dark interior of the room beyond the door. “Same method used to kill Ian, too. Nice and clean. Still don’t believe he did it?”

  “I never said I didn’t believe it,” Julia replied. “I just like to consider all the possibilities until I know for sure.”

  “Well, what now?”

  “We wait for the police,” Julia reminded him. “Like you said, they’ll be here any minute.”

  “Okay.” Barker nodded, his teeth biting deep into his lip. “I wonder what he’s doing.”

  Julia sighed and walked through the doors, pulling Barker along with her. They entered what appeared to have been a loading bay but was now a graveyard for busted boxing bags and old electricals. A metal staircase concertinaed right up to the glass ceiling. She didn’t see Rex on the stairs.

  “What if he sneaks out through the front door once he’s got what he wants?” Julia suggested with one foot already on the bottom step. “He could slip right by the police.”

  “It’ll make us look like idiots,” Barker agreed, going one further than Julia and climbing onto the first step. “I’ll go see what he’s doing. You must stay here.”

  “Barker, I—”

  “Non-negotiable.” Barker grabbed her by the face and kissed her forehead. “I won’t do anything sill
y. I’m just going to keep an eye on him until we hear the sirens. We have the chance to put this whole saga to rest tonight, and we’ve come this far. We’ve seen what he’s like. He could already be slipping away. We heard what he said. He’ll be sailing back to America by morning, taking with him any chance of closing this case. Hide here in case he comes back this way.”

  “Barker, you—”

  “I’ll be careful.” He kissed her again, this time on the lips. “I was in the police for most of my life. I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry.”

  Julia nodded, her hand slipping from Barker’s as he crept up the steep metal staircase. She reluctantly took her foot off the step and backed into the shadows. She perched behind one of the boxing bags, confident she wouldn’t be seen by anyone coming in or out of the door. She remained there for a full minute, her imagination running away with her, and Christie’s warning swirling around in her mind.

  “I could never forgive myself if something happened to him,” Julia whispered, and this justification was enough to send her up the staircase.

  She came at the boxing studio from the rear. The space was eerier and much less impressive now that the hazy moon had replaced the shining sun. The lines in the glass ceiling cast shadows across the studio, obscuring Julia’s vision. She blinked, peering around the doors, willing her eyes to adjust. She spotted the dark shadow of Rex by the lockers. He was using a stethoscope to crack the locked doors silently; he was already on the third of at least twenty. Like Barker, Julia couldn’t help but be a little impressed by his skillset.

  Thinking of her husband, she scanned the studio. After what felt like the world’s hardest game of Where’s Wally?, she found him crouched behind a large potted Swiss cheese plant on the other side of the boxing ring. His eyes never left Rex, giving her the perfect opportunity to spy on him spying on Rex.

  Over the next five minutes, she switched between observing Barker and Rex. Every time Rex found a bag in a locker, he ripped it open and immediately tossed it aside. By the last locker, he was surrounded by half a dozen duffle bags and piles of scattered clothes. Even from a distance, Julia could feel his frustration.