by Agatha Frost
“You’ve got the wrong person,” Julia cried out, her voice drowning in the sea of chatter. “Barker! Chloe didn’t kill those people.”
The young officer pulled Chloe towards the police car regardless. She kicked and screamed, thrashing against him with all of her might, her blonde bob flying from side to side. Malcolm stood by and watched, his mouth ajar. Glistening beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. She could not stand by and watch Chloe get arrested for two crimes when she only committed one of them.
Julia pushed her fingers up into her hair. She looked desperately around her for a way to catch Barker’s attention. She thought about throwing herself on the bonnet of the car, or standing in its way so they could not drive to the station, but she knew Barker would not hesitate in arresting her if he needed to.
She looked back at Johnny, who was snapping every moment of the unfolding arrest. Julia rolled her eyes, knowing he would not be any use. She looked over at the white tent, a spark of inspiration igniting.
After pushing through the thick and reluctant crowd, she snatched the microphone from Mary, who seemed too stunned to stop her. Dot looked at Julia from the gathered Green Fingers, her mouth dropping.
“Chloe didn’t kill those people,” Julia called out, her voice commanding everyone’s attention over the speakers. “I know that’s what it looks like.”
Every pair of eyes turned back to the tent and stared at her. The whispering stopped immediately, and she even noticed Barker holding his hand up to stop the officer pushing Chloe into the car. With the entire village waiting on her next words, Julia gulped down the rising nerves and tried to clear her mind. She thought about everything she had figured out since Evelyn’s ambush and her visit to The Plough. How could she have missed all of the clues?
“Chloe didn’t kill those people,” Julia repeated again. “But I know who did. I don’t doubt Chloe vandalised those gardens, including Emily’s on the day she was attacked. She might even have massacred the roses while Emily lay bleeding inside, but who could have blamed her? After everything Emily did to the club and Chloe’s father.”
“Who killed them, Julia?” Dot cried, enticing the crowd to ask the same question. “Tell us what you know.”
The chatter rose again as they all started to ask the same question, their sceptical gazes trained on Julia. Flashes from Johnny’s camera made her blink, derailing her train of thought.
“The person who killed Margaret, Elsie, Edgar, and tried to kill Emily, moved around this village completely unseen,” Julia started, her thoughts gathering again. “They could go from The Peridale Post offices, where they were leaving obituaries to let us know the Green Fingers were being targeted, and then they could commit the crimes without being seen. They planned out each murder perfectly so they didn’t leave behind a scrap of evidence. They pushed their victims down the stairs, and resorted to hitting them over the head when they didn’t have stairs, no doubt with gloved hands I suspect. They were so good, that it took me longer than I would have liked to connect the dots. I didn’t even realise the significance of the one clue they left behind until today.
“I heard Edgar’s murder, and I was the first on the scene. I saw pink footprints in his kitchen, and again in Emily’s. The smell was familiar to me, but it wasn’t until this week that I realised the pink footprints were caused by a rather sticky industrial cleaning product. A cleaning product used by Peridale Cleaning Company. Some of you probably know the company. They probably clean your houses and your businesses. I know I’ve seen their branded cars all over the village. That’s how the killer went unseen and how they moved around. That’s why nobody noticed you, isn’t it, Mercy?”
There was a gasp as all heads whipped to look at the former Green Fingers’ president’s daughter. Mercy looked down at her father, and then up at Julia, her bright eyes wide and unblinking.
“I’m sorry to say this, Peter, but it was your daughter who pushed those people down the stairs and hit Emily over the head.” Julia paused to take a breath. “She’s a murderer, and even though I don’t condone what she did, I understand.”
“Why would she do such a thing?” Mary asked, stepping forward as she peered into the crowd with a hand over her eyes. “It doesn’t add up.”
“For revenge,” Julia said. “Mercy was the only person who knew that Emily had blackmailed all of the founding members of the club to banish Yolanda as their leader. She knew this because she visited her mother in the pub, where Yolanda told her everything that had happened, right before Yolanda crashed her car and died.”
Mercy folded her arms over her blue apron and looked down at the ground, avoiding her father’s eyes. He looked at her open-mouthed and stunned.
“When Shelby said the young woman who spoke to Yolanda in the pub didn’t drink, all of the other pieces slotted together,” Julia said with a soft sigh. “Peter, you were so proud that your daughter was a good girl. Remember when we were at Malcolm’s cottage and you told me she didn’t drink alcohol?
“The final piece of the puzzle came when I asked Johnny what cleaning company the newspaper used. I might not have made the connection if I hadn’t helped Mercy pack her supplies away after cleaning Barker’s cottage. I’m so sorry, but you killed those people. You blamed them for your mother’s death. They might not have driven the car for her, but them stabbing her in the back drove her to drown her sorrows and make the fatal decision that ended her life.”
Julia dropped the microphone to her side and stared across the crowd at Mercy. Julia smiled apologetically at the woman. Despite everything, she was still empathetic towards her.
“They were her friends!” Mercy screamed, pointing at Amy. “She trusted you!”
Amy couldn’t bring herself to look at Mercy. She stumbled back and turned around, fleeing to the safety of her club.
“Mercy?” Peter mumbled, looking up at his daughter with tears in his eyes. “Please tell me all of this isn’t true?”
“You should have heard her, Dad,” Mercy whispered, glossy tears tumbling down her eyes. “The night she died, she was so heartbroken. If they hadn’t turned their backs on her, she would still be here. She was so pure, and she adored that group and everything it stood for, and all they wanted to do was get rid of her. They killed her. All of this is their fault.”
Dot suddenly shuffled away from the group, her hands in the air. She joined Julia by her side and wrapped her hand around her shoulder.
“I told you I never liked gardening,” Dot whispered.
They both walked back through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea, their eyes fixed disbelievingly on Julia. When she reached Mercy, all Julia could do was give the young woman a hug.
“I had hoped I was wrong,” Julia whispered into her ear. “Take care of yourself.”
Julia rested her hand on Peter’s shoulder as the young officer scrambled to unlock Chloe’s handcuffs.
“Mercy Turner, you’re under arrest for the murders of Margaret Harwood, Elsie Davies, Edgar Partridge, and the attempted murder of Emily Burns.”
Barker read his cleaner her rights as she stared silently at the floor. Unlike Chloe, she did not thrash or fight, she accepted her defeat with grace and dignity. She mouthed her apologies to her father before walking to the police car.
“I can’t believe you figured all of that out from some pink slime and a pub conversation,” Johnny said as he joined her. “I could barely keep up scribbling all of that down. It’s certainly going to make a juicy issue of the paper.”
“Can you promise me you’ll do one thing?” Julia asked him.
“Anything.”
“Leave my name out of it,” she said with an exhausted laugh as she planted a hand on his shoulder. “Please?”
Johnny looked down at his notes. He thought about it for a moment before crossing something out and winking at Julia.
“Consider it done,” Johnny said. “Although most of the villagers are here, so I don’t know what difference it’ll make
.”
The police car drove away with Mercy in the back. Julia turned to Peter to apologise, but he did not seem to be able to look at her. He wheeled himself off the grass and away from the crowd.
“Well, that was certainly an eventful interval,” Mary cried over the microphone. “But after spending time in this village, I’m not at all surprised. Shall we get on with why we’re here? We still have a cheque to give away.”
There was a grumble and a few people even ‘whooped’, but the excitement level had been drained for the day.
“And the winner of the best garden in Peridale title, and the recipient of ten thousand pounds is -” Mary paused to fiddle and open a small envelope. “Evelyn from the B&B!”
There was a collective gasp, including one from Julia. Evelyn fumbled forward, her hands shaking under her kaftan. She looked back at the club, none of whom were clapping for her.
“We were taken by your garden’s rustic charm and natural beauty,” Mary exclaimed as Brendan handed the cheque to Evelyn. “I hope you’ll spend your money wisely. C’mon, Brendan. We’ve done our bit. I need to get out of this village.”
Brendan thrust the cheque into Evelyn’s hands, and Mary dropped the microphone onto the grass. They grabbed their things, scooted across the village green, jumped into a car and sped out of Peridale. Julia doubted they would ever return.
“I must say I am shocked,” Evelyn said after scooping up the microphone. “I didn’t foresee this at all. I prayed to my crystals, but the cards promised disappointment today. How surprising!”
She put the microphone on top of the speaker and walked over to the club, who quickly dispersed as they shook their heads and turned their backs on the winner.
“I couldn’t have picked a better winner myself,” Julia said after making her way back to the front of the crowd. “What will you spend the money on?”
“I’ve had my eye on a worldwide cruise for months,” Evelyn said as she looked down at the cheque. “I’ll spend the winter sunning myself on the best ship the world has to offer!”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Julia said, looking around at the crowd who did not seem to know what to do. “Right, everyone. I didn’t bake three hundred macarons for nothing! Let’s tuck in.”
Chapter Fifteen
After a day of rest, Julia visited Emily in the hospital on Monday morning before opening the café. It was before official visiting hours, but a box of leftover macarons from the prize unveiling got her past the receptionist.
Emily had been moved from intensive care to her own room. When Julia knocked on the door, she was spooning yoghurt into her mouth. Her expression dropped, and her eyes widened.
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” Julia said, producing the bouquet of red roses from behind her back. “I got these from Pretty Petals.”
“My favourite,” Emily said with a weak smile. “Pull up a seat.”
Emily looked better than Julia expected. She had a bandage around her head, which squashed down her ears and grey hair, and her face was a little yellow, but she looked better than most would after a brush with death. She placed the yoghurt on the table and sat up a little more, wincing as she did. Julia put the flowers into an empty glass vase and helped Emily prop a pillow behind her back.
“I don’t deserve kindness,” Emily whispered. “I’ve been so blind.”
“Everyone deserves some kindness,” Julia said as she pulled a chair up next to the bed. “You’re not a monster, Emily.”
“I heard what you did,” Emily said, turning her head to look out of the window at the pale morning sky. “I heard about you unmasking Mercy. That poor girl.”
“She’s looking at a lifetime behind bars.”
“It’s all my fault,” Emily said with a croak, suddenly flipping her head back to Julia. “I wanted so badly to be in charge that I forgot about the people I was hurting.”
Julia did not correct her. She did not want Emily to think she was getting off without some of the blame. Julia clasped her hand around her old neighbour’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Emily smiled, and for the first time since that excited knock on the door with a copy of Cotswold Gardening Magazine, Emily looked like the woman Julia recognised.
“I can’t believe Evelyn won,” Emily said with a small laugh. “What she does isn’t gardening. I don’t even think she wanted to win.”
“Maybe that’s for the best,” Julia said, letting go of Emily’s hand. “If it wasn’t for her giving Amy her special tea, I wouldn’t have figured any of this out, and Amy might have died too.”
“I feel so terrible,” Emily whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I treated my poor friend so badly. I treated them all so badly, especially Yolanda.”
“You can’t change the past.”
“But I can change the future,” she whispered with a firm nod. “I’m going to leave Peridale. How can I stay here? I’ve already called my son and told him to put my cottage on the market, so you’re going to get a new neighbour. There’s nothing keeping me here now that my roses are gone.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“I’ve always wanted to live by the seaside,” Emily said with a calm sigh. “There’s a little town on the south coast. Redwall, it’s called. I have a cousin who lives there. Who says you can’t have a fresh start at my age, eh?”
Julia clutched her hand again. She kissed Emily on the forehead and wished her good luck before slipping out of the room, leaving her to finish her yoghurt. She did not like to see Emily leaving the village, but a small part of her was relieved. She was not sure she would have been able to look her neighbour in the eyes every single day without remembering what she had done for the sake of a pin.
Julia drove back to the village and parked between her café and the post office. Just as she climbed out of her Ford Anglia, she noticed Jessie walking down the lane hand in hand with Billy. They kissed outside the closed Happy Bean coffee shop before Billy hurried off towards the cottage he shared with his dad. He saluted Julia with a wink as he passed.
“Is it safe to assume that he is your boyfriend now?” Julia asked as Jessie walked towards her, hands in her pockets, and her hood low over her face.
“Whatever,” Jessie mumbled. “How’s the rose lady?”
“She’s going to be okay.” Julia pulled her keys from her pocket and unlocked the café door. “She’s leaving Peridale and moving to the coast.”
“Does that mean we’re getting new neighbours?” Jessie asked with a roll of her eyes. “I swear to God, if they have any screaming babies or yapping dogs, I’m going to –”
“Morning, Julia,” a man called from behind them.
Julia turned, her heart swelling when she saw Malcolm and Chloe walking towards the village hall.
“Morning,” Julia called back with a wave. “Lovely day for it, isn’t it?”
“It sure is,” Malcolm called back. “Amy called me last night to arrange an emergency Green Fingers meeting to hand the pin over to me.”
“Good,” Julia said with a firm nod. “As it should be. You make sure to come into the café. I’ll bake you an angel food cake to celebrate. You’re both welcome.”
Chloe smiled meekly from underneath her bob, but she was not quite able to look Julia in the eyes. She figured it would be a long time before Chloe lived down the embarrassment of vandalising her neighbours’ gardens.
As soon as all of the lights were turned on, customers flocked through the door, no doubt gagging to gossip after a quiet Sunday in the village. Julia and Jessie spent the morning rushed off their feet, so she was glad to see Barker when he came in for his usual lunchtime drink.
“Mercy has been charged,” he said as Julia made him an Americano. “I hope the judge looks favourably on her because of what happened to her mother, but Johnny’s evidence surrounding the obituaries proves all three murders were premeditated and it easily could have been four.”
“It’s Peter I feel sorry for,” Ju
lia said. “The poor guy has lost everything.”
“I heard he’s moving in with Malcolm and that Chloe is moving out,” Shilpa from the post office said as she peered through the cake display case. “It’s going to be a real bachelor pad.”
“A happy ending then, I suppose?” Barker said with an unsure look as he accepted his coffee.
“Plenty more material for your book.” Julia winked at him as she accepted his money. “I’m sure this ordeal would make a great sequel.”
“You’re writing a book?” Shilpa exclaimed. “How wonderful! Am I in it?”
Barker smiled awkwardly at her, his cheeks blushing brightly. Shilpa looked expectantly at him, but he was saved from answering when Dot burst through the café door clutching a magazine.
“Have you heard the news?” she cried.
“Here we go again,” Julia whispered. “This is all sounding strangely familiar.”
“Look at this!” Dot slammed the latest copy of Cotswold Gardening Magazine on the counter, which sported the headline ‘Macarons and Mayhem’. “They’ve made us sound like idiots! There’s hardly anything in here about flowers. It’s all about how dysfunctional we are and how people should avoid our village! Look!”
Dot flipped through the magazine and landed on a page which showed Emily slapping the macaron out of Dot’s hand. Julia was in the back of one of the pictures, her mouth gaping open as though she were catching flies.
“You said you wanted to be in a magazine.” Julia was barely able to contain her grin. “Enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame, Gran.”
Dot flared her nostrils and snatched up the magazine. She hurried out of the café, slamming the door as she went. Julia finished serving Barker and Shilpa, and slipped through the beaded curtains into the kitchen. A tray of perfect macarons looked up at her from the middle of the counter.
“Where did these come from?” Julia asked. “These things are going to haunt me forever.”
“I made them,” Jessie said with a casual shrug as she washed the dishes in the sink. “Wanted to see if they were as difficult as you said. I don’t know what all the fuss was about.”