Peridale Cafe Mystery 21 - Profiteroles and Poison

by Agatha Frost

  “I know.” She dropped her feet and stared out the window. “I’m not thick, Barker. I know I need to tell him. He’s so excited. He keeps talking about all the places we’re going to see and all the things we’re going to do. How do I tell him?”

  “Honestly.”

  “Doesn’t make it easier to face, though, does it?”

  “You’re right.”

  “I was really close to telling him when I asked him for that money,” she said, “but then Lynn died, and I didn’t need it anymore, and it felt like—”

  “Wait,” Barker cut in. “The money? So, Lynn was blackmailing you?”

  “You figured that out?”

  “You’re not the only one.”

  “Seriously?” Jessie laughed. “She acted like a total psycho. At the café, Katie pushed me to tell her what was wrong, and I caved. It felt like a relief to tell someone. I didn’t know Lynn was down in your office cleaning. She heard the whole thing.”

  “Thin floors.”

  “They must be, because she specifically heard me tell Katie that I didn’t know what I was going to do.” She pulled at the hangnail again. “She said if I didn’t give her five hundred quid, she’d tell you and Mum I was leaving, and Alfie that I wasn’t. I ignored her, but she kept cornering me and bringing it up. It felt like she’d wormed her way into everything.” Jessie’s voice rose, and she paused to take a deep breath. “When she was alone with Mum in the café before the book club, I cracked and called Alfie. I wanted to borrow money to get her off my back. I needed space to breathe and figure out my next move. I knew I’d have to hurt one of you. I just didn’t know who.”

  Jessie didn’t say any more, so Barker drove the rest of the way in silence. He was furious at Lynn for daring to blackmail Jessie, and furious at himself for somehow not noticing that he’d employed someone capable of such a thing. As glad as he was that the cleaner wasn’t around to continue her wicked games, he wished he could ask what she thought she was doing, blackmailing a teenager.

  Rather than take Jessie to her flat, he continued through the village and up the cottage’s winding lane. He pulled up in front of Julia’s vintage aqua blue Ford Anglia and looked through the curtains as he pulled the handbrake. The lights were on; he hoped that meant Julia was still awake.

  “You know you have to tell her,” he said, “or she’ll keep worrying.”

  “I know.” Jessie reached for the handle but didn’t pull it. “Please don’t tell Alfie yet, okay? I need the right moment.”

  “When are the tickets booked for?”

  “New Year’s Eve,” she said. “He said it would be cool to start the new year somewhere else.”

  “Then you better hope the right moment comes up soon,” he said as he opened his door, “because the longer you leave it, the worse it’s going to be.”

  “I know.”

  Barker followed Jessie into the cottage, relieved, to say the least, that he didn’t have to keep wondering about her troubles. That relief faded when he saw a familiar thick cream envelope on the outside doormat. There was no address or postmark, just his name in neat calligraphy. As Jessie left in search of Julia, Barker remained outside, pulling the door into its frame.

  His office was one thing.

  But his home?

  With shaking fingers, he lifted the unsealed flap; this was a step too far to dismiss the severity of the violation. Using the hall light shining through the door’s frosted windowpane, he read:

  Dear Barker Brown,

  With a murder happening right under your nose, and a mystery letter writer watching your every move, I would have thought you’d have ample inspiration for your next novel by now. And yet, no announcement. In my previous letter, I told you my patience was wearing thin. Consider it worn out.

  Tick-tock, tick-tock, Mr Brown.

  I’d hate for anything to happen to your lovely wife, Julia.

  7

  JULIA

  “Does she live out here on her own?” Barker broke a long silence as his car trundled along the road running parallel to Kerry’s Victorian mansion. “It’s huge!”

  Julia tore herself away from thoughts of Jessie. She peered at what she could see of the grand building over its tall private wall. Though the rain had stopped, for now, the morning’s earlier downpour had dampened the building’s dark stone. Set against the grey clouds as black smoke billowed from one of the chimneys, it looked even more ominous than it had on Julia’s previous visit.

  “Four thousand square feet across four storeys,” Julia recited the fact Kerry had made sure to mention on her one and only visit. “Eight bedrooms, four bathrooms, and from the rooms I saw, decorated beautifully.”

  “I bet.” Barker sucked air through his teeth. “Now this is the dream, don’t you think? As much as I love the golden stone cottages in the village, there’s something about gothic architecture that I can’t resist. Imagine living somewhere like this.”

  “Keep imagining,” Julia said as he turned his car through the open black gates. “Even spending every penny, we wouldn’t get close.”

  “A couple of book advances would put down a nice mortgage deposit on something like this.”

  “Book advances?”

  “If I were still doing that,” he said, clearing his throat. “Although I’ve been thinking. Maybe I gave it all up too quickly?”

  “You’ve changed your tune,” she said, a brow arching. “You’ve only just started your PI business. I thought you were enjoying it.”

  “I am.” He nodded. “I meant . . . well, more as a side thing.”

  “Are those letters getting to you?”

  “No,” he replied a little too quickly. “Just a thought, that’s all.”

  “Have any more turned up?”

  Barker shook his head as he parked next to the black Rolls Royce in the shadow of the tall building.

  “Ignore me,” he said, killing the engine. “Pipe dream.”

  “I didn’t realise moving was on the table.”

  “The cottage is a little on the small side.”

  “It wasn’t when it was just for one.” She shifted uncomfortably in the seat as the baby kicked her left side as it had been doing all morning. “Let’s get this little one out first. We’ve only just finished painting the nursery.”

  “Good point.” Clinging to the wheel, Barker peered up at the house, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning. “One day, maybe. Somewhere like this, we’d be able to have the whole family around. Jessie could have her own room again for when she visits, so she doesn’t have to sleep on the sofa.”

  Julia’s stomach knotted – and not from the kicking.

  Late into the night, in front of the dying fire in the sitting room, Jessie had poured her heart out. She’d revealed everything about Lynn’s blackmail and Alfie’s offer to see the world. Not wanting her to walk home so late and too tired to drive her, she offered the sofa and the spare duvet. Jessie had gone to open the café by the time Julia awoke.

  Despite Jessie’s insistence that she was staying in Peridale because she wanted to, Julia had felt her daughter’s conflicted feelings bubbling just beneath the reassurances. Her reasons for staying were plentiful. As much as it touched Julia to be at the centre of so many of them, she’d picked up on a hint of obligation swaying Jessie’s decision.

  “I’m early,” she said, not wanting to vocalise her thoughts; Jessie’s decision was all they’d talked about over breakfast. “Not sure I want to be the only one in there with Kerry. It’s not like she bothered to invite me.”

  “I’ll come in with you.”

  “And turn a book club meeting into an interrogation?” Julia shook her head. “No, it’s best I go in alone. It’s the first opportunity I’ve had to get everyone in the same room since Lynn’s death. I would have driven here alone if you weren’t so insistent.” She looked at her husband out the corner of her eye. “What was that about, anyway? You practically wrestled my car keys off me.” As his lips par
ted, she added, “And don’t say it’s because I’m pregnant. I know it’s a tight squeeze, but Stacey said I’m okay to drive as long as I feel fine.”

  “I-I just wanted to be helpful.”

  “Feels like you’re trying to keep an eye on me.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?” He scratched the back of his head. “One of the people in there likely killed Lynn, after all. What’s to say they wouldn’t turn on you? It’s not like they waited to get Lynn alone to poison her. Any of you could be next.”

  “I suppose,” she said, peering through the sheer curtains into what she knew was Kerry’s impressive library. “I don’t think any of them would be silly enough to repeat something like that so soon, though. It’s too obvious. Besides, people had reasons to kill Lynn, and . . .” Julia trailed off as Stacey’s small black car appeared in Barker’s rear-view mirror. “Looks like I’m not going to be alone. You can head off now.”

  “I don’t mind waiting,” he said, his smile a little too wide.

  “I’m sure Stacey can drop me off.”

  “I really don’t mind.”

  “Has something happened?” Julia asked, narrowing her eyes at him even as she waved to Stacey. “You’re acting odd.”

  “I told you everything John told me,” he said, holding up a hand to Stacey as she climbed out of her car. “Speaking of which, try to find out what she was being blackmailed over.”

  “I’m not going to force it out of her if she doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s my friend.”

  “She’s also a suspect in a murder case,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t think I missed that question mark next to her name when you were copying my notes on Jade into your little pad this morning.”

  “I’ll try my best,” she said, leaning across to kiss him on the cheek. “You really don’t have to wait around for me. These things can go on for hours.”

  Julia joined Stacey in front of the house. To her surprise, Barker reversed out of the spot and through the gates.

  “I could do without this today,” Stacey said, pulling her leather jacket together as she took in the imposing edifice of the house. “Haven’t stopped throwing up all morning. It was nowhere near this bad when I had Jack.”

  “I’ve spent the morning being booted.”

  “The things we put ourselves through. Should we get this over with?”

  They ascended the stairs to the arched stone porch between the large bay windows on either side of the central front door. After Stacey gave the doorbell a few short sharp jabs, Kerry opened the door wearing a striking, curve-hugging red dress with a plunging neckline.

  “You’re early.” Her eyes went straight to Julia, and she forced a smile. “Julia . . . I—”

  “My invitation must have got lost in the post.”

  “I tried calling,” she said, stepping aside to let them in. “I must not have your current number.”

  Kerry had called to remind her to bring notes with her to her first meeting when Julia had first joined the book club, but she didn’t mention it. As she’d suspected, the lie confirmed that Kerry shunning her was intentional. She could only imagine why.

  “We’ll be in the library today,” she said, motioning to the left side of the elongated hallway as she pulled a door on the right side closed behind her back. “I’ve put out some food. Drinks?”

  “Water for me,” Stacey said, resting a hand on her tummy.

  “Same,” Julia echoed.

  Kerry gave an artificial smile before hurrying down the hall and through yet another door that she closed tightly behind her.

  “Freezing in here,” Stacey said, glancing up the staircase at the gleaming black chandelier unlit at the top. “Places with ceilings this high must cost a fortune to heat.”

  They entered the impressive library, where thankfully, a fire roared in the stone fireplace. Dark shelves packed with books lined every wall, but the large bay window admitted more than enough light to keep the dark tones from suffocating the place. In the centre of a large, red traditional Persian rug, four chairs were arranged in a circle. On a round mahogany table in the middle of the circle were six simple, fondant-topped fairy cakes on a blue and white china plate. A glance told Julia they weren’t homemade.

  “Typical,” Stacey said, nodding at the cakes as she shrugged off her leather jacket. “No wonder rich people stay rich when they’re so tight. Even I buy the extra fancy cakes when I host.”

  “Maybe she didn’t want to waste her money,” Julia said as she took the seat next to Stacey. “After what happened last time, do you think anyone will be in a rush to eat or drink?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  Kerry rushed in with water glasses and then straight out again after a long ring of the doorbell. She returned with Debra, cheeks red from the cold.

  “Haven’t missed anything, have I?” Debra asked as she unravelled herself. “I tried to time shutting the book shop with my lunch break. I can’t stay too long today.”

  “This won’t take long.” Kerry checked the clock above the fire. “We’ll wait for Jade, as usual.”

  “I don’t think she’ll be coming,” Julia said; she didn’t plan to reveal Barker’s discovery, but the likelihood of Jade showing her face was slim.

  “Very well.” Kerry closed the door behind her. “Then we might as well get started. After what happened at our previous meeting, I wanted to gather everyone to talk about how I’ve been treated.”

  She glanced sharply at Julia as she sat, crossed her shiny legs, and tugged the hem of her dress over her knee.

  “I’ve had the police here throwing all kinds of accusations my way. Twice.”

  “The police have talked to all of us,” Stacey said, rolling her eyes in Julia’s direction. “It’s not just you, Kerry.”

  “Even you, Julia?” Kerry’s right brow drifted up. “Are they treating you like a suspect too, or are your connections letting you skate under the radar?”

  “I’ve given a statement.”

  Kerry checked her nails. “And are you doing anything to quell the rumours that someone in the book club murdered Lynn?”

  “Is that such a strange suggestion?” Julia asked. “She was poisoned at my café. Someone put a cocktail of medication in the teapot.”

  “Ridiculous!” Kerry cried. “Does anyone actually believe that? It’s gossip!”

  “The police confirmed it.”

  “And you believe everything they say?” Kerry laughed and shook her head; the hairspray-set curls gave a crisp and unnatural wobble. “They’d claim anything to get someone to confess.”

  “I saw the toxicology report with my own eyes.”

  “Ha!” Kerry clicked her fingers. “So, you admit it. They are giving you special treatment. This is why I didn’t extend you an invitation. You’re desperately trying to point the finger, almost as if you want them to look at everyone except the person who made the tea.”

  “Julia hasn’t accused any of us,” Stacey said, raising her voice to match Kerry’s. “You sound paranoid right now. Have you something to hide, Kerry?”

  “Paranoid?” Kerry almost choked on the word. “What reason would I have to want Lynn dead? I barely knew the woman.”

  “Wasn’t Lynn your housekeeper?” Debra asked, frowning. “That’s what she told me. Isn’t that how she ended up in the book club in the first place?”

  “I-I—” Kerry’s cheeks burned as red as the fabric of her dress. “So? That doesn’t make me a suspect.”

  “You’re a suspect because you were there,” Julia said calmly as she could with the baby using her ribs for football practice. “And yes, I’m probably a suspect, but I also gave an honest statement about making the tea. However, you’ll all recall that when I went into the kitchen to grab the profiteroles, the teapot was left unattended.” She paused to look around the small circle. “When I came back, you’d all scattered. Kerry, you were on your phone in your car.”

  “Which is none of your b
usiness!” Kerry snapped, quickly swapping her crossed legs. “You are accusing us.”

  “All of us had opportunity, including me,” Julia said, gritting her teeth as another kick knocked her sick. “What I don’t have, however, is motive. Against my better judgement, I liked Lynn. Since her death, I’ve learned she wasn’t nearly the sweet person my interactions with her made me believe. She was blackmailing my daughter, as well as—”

  “There’s your motive!” Kerry cried, pointing her finger at Julia. “Protecting your daughter.”

  “A fact I only found out after Lynn was already dead,” Julia retorted, “and only confirmed by Jessie last night. From the looks of it, Kerry, you’re the one pointing a finger right now. As has come to light today, you knew Lynn longer than any of us. Why did you fire her?”

  “Because she was a lousy cleaner.”

  “I know that’s not true,” Julia said.

  “Yeah, me too,” Debra admitted in a whisper. “I didn’t like her, but she always did a thorough job.”

  “What is this achieving?” Stacey asked. “We’re all at each other’s throats. We’ve all spoken to the police, yes?”

  They nodded.

  “And none of us have been arrested?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Then why are we trying to assign blame?” Stacey continued. “Jade isn’t even here, and I know she lived closest to Lynn, which means she has the opportunity to have been blackmailed like any of . . .”

  Stacey’s voice trailed off as she realised she had confessed that Lynn was blackmailing her as well, but Julia couldn’t focus on that. The kicking had stopped, but a different sensation had replaced it, unlike anything she’d ever experienced. A tightening, like the stitch she’d experienced when training for the Peridale marathon earlier in the year, but far worse. She groaned, clutching Stacey’s arm with one hand and the bottom of the chair with the other.

  “Julia?” Debra cried. “Oh, my days, are you having a contraction?”

  “I-I don’t know.” Julia tried to open her eyes, but the discomfort only continued to spread across the front of her bump. “M-maybe?”

  “No!” Kerry shouted. “Not in here. Not on this rug. It’s an antique.”