Gingerbread to Die For

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Gingerbread to Die For Page 12

by Valerie Tate


  “So whoever stole them had access to the computer but not the hard copy,” she said, assessing the implications.

  “That’s what we thought. And that’s why it was impossible to discover who the thief was.” It was clear that their lack of success in finding the culprit still upset him. “I’m glad you’re looking into Mike Manning,” he went on. ‘I think he’s a good suspect for the murder.”

  “If he was actually in town.” She hadn’t seen him at the opening ceremony and he was definitely noticeable.

  “If Davina said she saw him, then she did,” he said with conviction, “although he’s probably gone back to the city by now.”

  “If he was here at the time, the police can track him down. Don’t worry, we’re checking that out. Someone will have noticed him.”

  “Thanks, Alicia. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”

  “Your welcome. Try not to worry. We have our sources. I’ll let you know what we find out.”

  And tomorrow would be the day. If anyone knew anything about a celebrity chef skulking around town, it would be the Silver Hair Brigade. She couldn’t wait to see them and find out what they knew.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning started out like any morning but then, out of nowhere, a media storm suddenly hit them. Their phones began ringing at an early hour with news reporters wanting interviews. Bewildered as to the reason, it soon came out that a story had broken in the press that a pair of local, amateur sleuths were working to prove Magnus Wolff’s innocence. The anonymous source had given their names. Stunned, they firmly denied any involvement and declined all requests for interviews.

  “Well, this is our fifteen minutes of fame,” Chris quipped as he hung up the landline for the umpteenth time.

  “Who do you think leaked it?” Alicia asked. “Only a few people know we’re helping the police.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past Magnus Wolff to have done it himself,” he replied.

  “Why would he do that? Being a murder suspect puts him in such a bad light.”

  “ ‘No such thing as bad publicity’,” he quoted cynically. “Some people will do anything to stay in the public eye.”

  It was a nasty thought. She hoped he was wrong.

  Driving down the main street with Chris just before noon, Alicia thought the white doves on the garland that crisscrossed the road looked incongruous considering Davina’s death, but she supposed most people wouldn’t make the connection. They did look beautiful, for all that.

  Whenever she saw the town decorated for Christmas, with Santa’s Castle in the park, she was reminded of the wide-eyed wonder she had felt as a child and some of that feeling would come back. She never wanted that to change and she resented it being tarnished by murder.

  It had snowed in the night, but not enough to bring out the plough, so the road was getting slushy. The store keepers had all swept the sidewalks in front of their shops so people out looking for Christmas presents didn’t have to worry as they hustled and bustled through town.

  They were lucky to find a parking space in front of The Tea Room and, as they pulled in, she noticed that Sally and Suzie Reilly, the twin sisters who owned it, had done a spectacular job with decorating the café. A fresh wreath of pine boughs tied with a red velvet bow was hung on the door and a pair of tall, black, cast iron planters full of cedar, pine cones and more red velvet stood like sentries, one on either side. The small panes of the display windows were frosted and garland entwined with twinkle lights framed the exterior. Inside, a tiered stand in front of the window was filled with Christmas delicacies, the sight of which lured customers in to where the smell of baking filled the air. Paintings and photos of Christmases past adorned the walls and, in the corner, a fragrant fir tree stood. It was adorned with lights and vintage teacups were hung on the branches with satin ribbon. The tables were covered with white cloths and vases filled with holly. It was picture perfect and appreciative diners filled the room.

  In their usual table in front of the window to the right of the door, the six ladies of the Silver Hair Brigade sat, awaiting their arrival with anticipation.

  The first time Alicia had consulted the ladies during a murder investigation, she had noticed something unusual in their appearances. It had taken a while for her to realize what it was, but finally it had dawned on her – they were each dressed like an actress who had portrayed Agatha Christie’s most famous, female sleuth, Miss Jane Marple. Glynis, their de facto leader, was a matter-of-fact Julia McKenzie with soft white hair worn short, glasses on a cord around her neck, and a tweed skirt with a white blouse and hand-knit cardigan sweater. Ruby was a no-nonsense Joan Hickson, hair pulled back in a tight bun wearing a grey wool suit with a silk blouse underneath. Marjorie was a flighty Geraldine McEwan in a pink woolen dress with a cameo pin at the neck. Her hair was shoulder length and soft, curled under in a pageboy style. Marjorie’s eyes always held a look of melancholy, as if she had lost something and Alicia didn’t know if she was just a good actress or if she had suffered a great loss in her own life. Elaine was a petite, fit-looking Helen Hayes in navy trousers and a beige cashmere sweater with a turned-down collar. Her hair was styled in a short, pixie cut that set off her small face and large brown eyes. Claire was a beautiful Angela Lansbury in a stylish two-piece suit with matching pumps and purse. Her short, swept-back hair and makeup were impeccable and her scarlet nail polish told everyone she’d spent the morning at the nail salon. (Alicia thought she looked more like Jessica Fletcher than Jane Marple who had been quite dowdy in the film that Angela was in.) Last but not least was Cora, who frequently missed lunch to babysit one or more of her ‘grands and greats’ as she called her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She most truly resembled her Jane Marple, the renowned character actress Margaret Rutherford, with her large face, bright eyes underscored by deep bags, bulbous nose, and mobile mouth. Her wiry, white hair was a little wild and windblown which was entirely in keeping with her character. She was sporting a pale blue tweed suit with a blouse that tied in a bow beneath her heavy chin and neck. Heavy-weight stockings and sensible, lace-up shows completed the look.

  Seeing them sitting there, smiling broadly, Alicia felt a deep affection for them. They were an integral part of the town, having lived there all of their lives, and there was nothing that went on in Dunbarton that they were unaware of. When they were young, women’s roles had been prescribed from birth – get married, have children, raise a family and keep house. When the children inevitably left home for college, careers and families of their own, they had been left with large amounts of time on their hands and so they had turned to volunteering to fill the void. Over the years they had made acquaintances and formed connections all over Dunbarton and now they used those connections to keep on top of everything happening in town. Most people would have been stunned at the depth of that knowledge, in what they thought were their private lives. Alicia hoped that knowledge now extended to the activities of the cast and crew of The Divine Miss Dove television show since they’d come to town.

  The ladies greeted Chris and Alicia warmly. She didn’t mind that he always came first with them. He was their favourite and she resigned herself to being second place. Besides, she was using that partisanship to her advantage that day.

  As Chris sat down, her plan was put into action.

  “You still have the moustache,” Marjorie cried, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

  The ladies all examined it closely while Chris preened. “Yes, I’m thinking of keeping it permanently.”

  “It’s just like the one my father had,” Ruby declared. “I never liked it. It scratched when he kissed me goodnight.”

  Looking earnestly at Alicia, Elaine asked, “Does it scratch you, dear?”

  Alicia admitted that, yes, it did.

  “How unfortunate,” Glynis said, eyeing the growth of hair unfavourably. “My husband tried to grow one once. I was having none of it. I told him that there would be no kissing
until it was gone. He huffed and puffed but it departed the next day.”

  Chris looked uncertainly at Alicia who had to work hard to keep her expression bland and noncommittal.

  “There was a famous star who had a moustache like that,” Claire began. “What was his name?”

  “Tom Selleck in Magnum P.I.? he suggested hopefully. It was the look he was going for.

  She leaned her perfectly made-up face on her fingers and thought for a moment. “Oh, yes, Groucho Marx!”

  His face fell

  “I remember him from old movies,” Cora said eagerly. Then her tone changed and she added, “He wasn’t very good-looking, though.”

  “Of course, you’re still quite handsome, Christopher,” Elaine began and then added, “if one overlooks the facial hair.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get used to it,” Ruby said, patting his hand encouragingly, but her tone said it was doubtful. “It will just take a little time.”

  Chris’ fingers crept up to the facial adornment and fingered it briefly, then he dropped them with a sigh.

  Glynis caught Alicia’s eye and then gave an almost imperceptible nod. Mission accomplished!

  After Suzie and Sally had trotted over to greet the new arrivals, they took their orders and soon brought tiered dishes with a variety of finger sandwiches and bowls of cream of asparagus soup. Conversation was put on hold while they enjoyed the delicious meal.

  In the break before their dessert was delivered, hot mince pie with ice cream, Glynis sat back and said, “So you want to know about the people from the television show.”

  Alicia nodded. “Yes, we wondered if you’d seen them around town.”

  The ladies all nodded eagerly.

  “We saw them first at the opening ceremonies,” Elaine chirped.

  “That wasn’t the first time,” Glynis corrected her. “We first saw them when Davina Dove arrived in town wearing that ridiculous hat with the veil.”

  “That’s right, dear,” Marjory twittered. “We first saw her then and then, again, the next day when she did her little walk-about along the main street.”

  The others nodded agreement.

  “Getting back to the opening ceremonies,” Elaine said, through tight lips, “we saw you standing near the front, dear.”

  “We would have stayed to speak to you,” Cora cut in, “but it was just too cold to linger.”

  “Yes, much too cold.” Elaine eyed Cora, her lips pursed in annoyance at the repeated interruptions.

  “We’ve seen all of them around town,” Ruby said, oblivious to or just ignoring Elaine’s vexation. “Some have stopped in here for lunch upon occasion.”

  “Mostly the women,” Claire added. “The men seem to prefer the Stockyard. Did you enjoy your lunch there, Chris?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

  Chris laughed. “Nothing gets past you, does it? Yes, I had a very enjoyable and informative lunch.”

  “With the camera crew from the show,” Glynis confirmed.

  He nodded but didn’t fill them in on the details. They probably knew everything, anyway, right down to what he’d eaten.

  “Magnus Wolff has been around a lot,” Claire added. “He’s very friendly, always stops to sign autographs and flirts with the women. Although, he’s been a little subdued since the murder.”

  “It can’t be pleasant being the main suspect,” Glynis said, eyeing Alicia for confirmation of their suspicions.

  It was only fair, Alicia thought. They always shared what they knew.

  “Yes, he’s very upset about it. He asked Chris and I to prove his innocence.”

  “And do you believe him to be innocent?” Glynis’ look and tone made Alicia wonder if the ladies thought otherwise.

  “We haven’t taken him off the suspect list but he’s not on the top,” was all Alicia would say.

  Changing the subject, she asked, “We were wondering if you had seen Mike Manning in town, you know, the star of Chef in the House.”

  “I’ve seen him,” Marjorie said with a girlish giggle. “He was wearing a coat with a hood but I recognized him right away.” When the others looked at her in surprise, she went on, “You see, I watch Chef in the House every week. I know that Davina Dove has better recipes but Mike Manning is just too dreamy.”

  Chris snorted into his tea and Alicia was careful to avoid meeting his eyes. She had warned him that she wanted to be just like the ladies when she was their age and she was happy to learn that some things didn’t change with advancing years.

  “Anyway, I was quite thrilled to see him in town,” Marjorie went on with a twitter, “although I couldn’t imagine why he was here … until I saw him with her.” She stopped to take a sip of her tea and everyone waited on tenterhooks to find out who the ‘her’ was.

  When she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer, Glynis snapped, “Well, out with it! Who was he with?”

  “Why, Davina Dove’s assistant of course.”

  If a firework had gone off in the restaurant, they wouldn’t have been more surprised.

  There was a stunned silence as Marjorie took in their reactions, looking like the cat who’d got the cream. Finally she continued, “I knew who she was because I’d seen Davina ordering her around when they first came to town. A pretty girl with lots of brown curls and a nice complexion. She was very compliant to her face but when Davina turned away, well… if looks could kill, as they say. I remember thinking that Davina would do well to watch her back. Anyway, she was the one with Mike Manning.” She picked up her teacup with a satisfied air and took a sip.

  Alicia’s mind boggled at this new information.

  “And just where did you see them?” Glynis asked, her tone cool. It was clear that Marjorie had neglected to share this enticing little tidbit with the other ladies, who usually had no secrets from each other.

  Marjorie ignored the chilly response and answered gleefully. “They were on a side street, talking. Then they kissed and went their separate ways. I thought it was quite romantic,” she added wistfully.

  “When was that?” Alicia asked, feeling an almost electric thrill go through her body.

  “On Wednesday. I remember because I was on my way to get my hair done.” She reached up and patted her shining, silver locks.

  “The day of the murder.” Alicia’s breath caught in her throat and she quickly took a sip of her now tepid tea.

  “I’ve seen them since the murder, too,” Marjorie added slyly, then she drank some more tea, seemingly impervious to the tension around her. This was her big moment and she was making the most of it.

  “Well, out with it.” Once again it was Glynis who prodded her for the details.

  Marjorie sent her a baleful look for spoiling her fun, but complied. “The first time I saw them they seemed to be quite furtive, but after the murder they were very open about being together, even holding hands on the main street.” She set her cup down and sat back with a complacent smile, basking in the afterglow of her stunning revelations.

  Alicia smiled and praised Marjorie’s keen powers of observation, much to the older woman’s delight. And it was only right. Unless Alicia was very much mistaken, the mystery of who had leaked the schedule and stolen the recipes had just been solved. But did that mean that Fiona James and Mike Manning had killed Davina Dove? She needed to get home to the murder board and ponder the possibilities.

  When they’d finished their dessert and Chris had picked up the cheque, earning continued adoration on the part of his elderly fans, Alicia thanked the ladies for their help and promised to reveal all when the murder had been solved.

  Back in the truck, Chris looked at Alicia accusingly. “You set me up with the ladies.”

  Alicia tried to look innocent but couldn’t pull it off.

  “But I got the message,” he said. “I’ll shave it off tomorrow.”

  Victory!

  *****

  Supper was over and Alicia once again found herself sitting in the sunroom facing the murder board
. She’d added what they had learned from the ladies of the Silver Hair Brigade. The fact that Fiona James and Mike Manning appeared to be in cahoots made it pretty clear that Fiona had stolen the schedule and the recipes and solidified her hunch that Fiona (possibly with Mike Manning’s help) was the murderer. But how to prove it? They didn’t even have a murder weapon.

  She was still ruminating on this when the phone rang. It was her mother. Perhaps she had news!

  “Hi, Mom!”

  “Hello, dear. You sound quite chipper.”

  “I’m hoping you’re calling to tell me you’ve learned something about the case,” Alicia said honestly.

  “Well, I am. Your father and I have been quite busy around town and have come up with some interesting tidbits of information.” Her mother sounded as pleased as Marjory had been.

  “That’s great, Mom!”

  “First up, I have to say that everyone has been very congratulatory about my win. It’s the talk of the town,” her mother said, sounding thrilled at the town’s reaction.

  “And deservedly so,” Alicia said, wishing her mother would get on with what she’d learned about the case.

  “The winning entries have all been put on display in the town hall for everyone to see. It’s really quite exciting!”

  Alicia found herself counting to ten. She couldn’t deny her mother her moment of glory, but couldn’t she just get on with it!

  “Anyway, that’s all about me. As for your case, the first important thing we learned is that Fiona James has been seen around town with an unknown man.”

  Disappointed, Alicia said, “Yes, we learned that today.”

  “Oh, you did.” Alice sounded quite deflated.

  “It’s Mike Manning, the star of Chef in the House.”

  “Is it now! Well that is interesting.”

  “Very. And it’s good to have your corroboration of that,” Alicia added graciously. “Have you learned anything else?”

  “Just that Magnus Wolff has been charming all of the women in town and Eric Braxton, the director, has been drowning his sorrows at The Stockyard most evenings.”

 

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