Perhaps the most unsettling event of the day was finding that weird looking book that had made her body suddenly go all chills. What was all that about?
Finally, there was Tim. All things considered, this had to be the most pressing of her problems and until it was resolved, she couldn’t spend too much time thinking about Tabitha and Tarquin. In many ways, this came as a relief.
Costa was packed full as always, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d been expecting. It was only five minutes before she got to place her order.
“I’ll have a hot chocolate, please. With marshmallows. Oh, and a chamomile tea for my friend.”
After another five minutes standing at the end of the counter, watching the baristas go about their work, she took the drinks to a table halfway along the back section of the shop. Placing one mug in front of herself and the other in front of the chair on the opposite side, she sat down and took out her phone. She was bang on time.
After a couple minutes, the door swung open, and she caught sight of Amanda standing in the doorway.
Scarlett waved, successfully drawing Amanda’s eye. She watched her friend push through the crowd towards her, and smiled as she took the seat opposite.
“Hi.”
Amanda removed her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair. “Hi,” she said.
“Busy day?”
Amanda took a long gulp of tea, seemingly scalding her tongue in the process. Once she’d swallowed, she let out a long, contented sigh. “That’s better.”
Scarlett chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes then, should I?”
Amanda wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You certainly can. So, what’s this about Tim?”
“Well, earlier this afternoon, he came swanning in and told me he’s canceling our date.”
Amanda reached across the table and patted her hand. “I know you were looking forward to this, but hey, these things happen. People cancel dates all the time.”
Scarlett shook her head. “I know, but it’s not just that.”
“Well, what is it then?”
Scarlett frowned. “He’s been a bit distant recently. Usually, I wouldn’t have thought twice about him canceling the date, but this time—well, it just feels like it’s more than that.”
Amanda nodded. “Oh. Well, if it’s any consolation at all, I know how you feel.”
“You having problems with Ronnie, too?”
“Well no, I wouldn’t say problems. But anyway, that’s for another day. Why do you think it’s more than just a date cancelation?”
It was hard to explain this sort of thing to Amanda, who knew nothing about the alternate life Scarlett had been living recently. She couldn’t tell her the whole story, so she settled on a half-truth. “Well, as I said, he’s been acting kind of cold for a while now. Always dashing out on short notice and coming back all loving and apologetic.”
“Oh. Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but—”
Scarlett pursed her lips. “I will take it the wrong way, so don’t say it.”
Amanda made a zipping motion across her lips. “Won’t say a word.”
A sighed escaped Scarlett. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, oh, he’s being evasive, he keeps canceling dates, and he’s hot one minute and cold the next—he must be going behind my back. I’ve thought about that too. Of course, I have. But it’s not that. I’m certain of it.”
Amanda looked at the front door over Scarlett’s shoulder. “What makes you so certain?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but couldn’t quite come up with the words. She paused, took a sip of hot chocolate, and said demurely, “Mmmm… this sure tastes good.”
Amanda reached across and, laughing, punched her on the shoulder. “Don’t be rotten.”
“Sorry.”
Amanda turned serious. “Back to the question at hand—what makes you so certain that he isn’t going behind your back?”
“Because I’d know if he was. He’s just not the type, that’s all.” She shrugged.
“Well as long as you’re certain. You’re my friend and I care about you. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
Scarlett looked at her for a long moment, grateful to have the friend she did in Amanda. “I know.”
“So if it’s not that, what do you think it might be?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Part of me thinks it’s just his job, but his job has always been important to him, ever since we met, so it must be something new.”
“Mmm. I was about to say that it must be his job. Let me have a think.” Amanda lifted her mug and took a gulp of tea. After swallowing, she took her teaspoon and clinked the spoon against the mug as she stirred. Eventually, she rested the spoon on the saucer, looked at Scarlett with a triumphant expression and said, “Men are like that. They just need to have their cave days now and then. It’s in their genes or something.”
Scarlett grinned. “A cave day? So, supposing you’re right, why would he need to do this, to begin with?”
Amanda paused for thought. “He might be tired.”
Laughing, she said “well, thanks a bunch, friend!”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well, go on, what did you mean? Get yourself out of this one.”
“He has a very demanding job that occupies a lot of his thoughts, agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“And he very rarely switches off, by all accounts. Agreed on that too?”
Scarlett nodded.
“So if he’s always thinking about something, he must get tired.”
“He’s never said he’s tired,” Scarlett countered.
“Well some people are like that, aren’t they? Look at Margaret Thatcher.”
Scarlett laughed. “I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”
“No,” Amanda said, fighting off the laughter. “What I mean is, well, she hardly ever slept, did she? What was it, two hours a night or something ridiculous like that? And from the clips I’ve seen of her, she never looked tired at all, did she? And then in the end, she went… ”
“So what’s your point? Other than my boyfriend is like Margaret Thatcher, which, yeah, thanks for that.”
“That everyone gets tired, but some don’t show it. They don’t show it because they’re too tired to realize they’re tired, but in the end, it catches up with them.”
“So, I get it. You think Tim’s going a bit—well, the same way that Margaret Thatcher went at the end?”
Amanda guffawed. “No, I’m not saying that, not at all.”
“Well, what then?”
“That tiredness takes its toll on everyone in the end. And maybe he had everything teetering in the balance before he met you and now he’s emotionally involved… ”
“Oh, I get it. You think being involved in a relationship has pushed him over the edge.”
“Bingo.”
Scarlett considered Amanda’s words carefully, sipping her drink. Several minutes passed before she was shaken out of her reverie.
Amanda grinned. “Honestly, it’s like I’m waiting for that Roman emperor — what was his name? The one that held his thumb up for someone to live or turned it down if he wanted them to die.”
Scarlett exhaled slowly. “I’ll admit… it’s a possibility,” she said finally.
Amanda placed a hand over her chest. “I’m so relieved. So, you’re going to stop worrying?”
Scarlett contorted her mouth as if weighing things out. “Not sure. I think it might be more than that, and if it is—then fine.”
The front door opened and a woman ran in, shouting her head off. Amanda pointed past Scarlett’s shoulder. “What’s going on there?”
The woman was turning frantically around the room, desperately trying to get the attention of anyone who might listen to her. “Please, someone call the police!”
Scarlett was the first to get to her feet and address the woman. “Okay, okay.” She gestured at Amanda to take out h
er phone. “What’s happened?”
The woman trembled, staring at Scarlett blankly “I—I—.”
She passed the woman her hot chocolate and gestured for her to sit down. “Here, have a drink of this.”
The woman took one sip and sat at the table across the aisle. It seemed to calm her somewhat. “Thank you,” she said, passing the mug back.
Smiling at the woman, she said “no problem. I’m Scarlett by the way and this is my friend, Amanda.”
“Rosa. Nice to meet you, Scarlett. Amanda.”
“Nice to meet you too, Rosa. So, what’s going on?”
“Well, I was cleaning up in the flat upstairs—I’m the cleaner there—and I saw it on the couch.”
Amanda adopted her most patient expression. “Saw it? Saw what?”
“The… ” Rosa covered her face with her hands.
“Come on, it’s OK, no-one’s listening.” Scarlett looked around to confirm her suspicions that every single pair of eyes in the shop was on them. “What did you see?”
“A body. I saw a dead body.”
Scarlett reared back. “A body? Are you sure?”
The woman nodded, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. I may be getting on a bit, but I still know a dead body when I see one.”
Scarlett put her jacket on. “Come on then, show me. Amanda, dial 999 while I go with her?”
Amanda nodded and lifted her phone to her ear.
+++
Flat 2b, above Costa Coffee, Bicester
They left the warm, cozy café with its friendly atmosphere and delicious aromas to step outside. Rosa led them straight back into the adjacent front door, and up the carpeted stairs, chattering anxiously the whole way.
She unlocked a heavy fire door and led Scarlett up a darkened staircase. After climbing the first flight of stairs, Rosa flicked a switch and the stairwell illuminated.
“Oh, just nip back and close the door, will you?”
Scarlett scurried back the way she’d come and heaved the door shut. When she returned to Rosa, she noticed a strange smell, faint at first.
As she ascended further, the smell seemed to permeate the atmosphere. Scarlett hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was.
At the top of the stairs Rosa stood by the front door of flat 2B, which was ajar. She looked at them despairingly and then shoved it open, standing aside.
The door swung open and Scarlett’s stomach churned. “Oh my God,” she said, clapping a hand over her mouth.
For the first time, they were hit by the full force of the stench.
“Here.” Rosa pointed at a heap on a couch in the middle of the light-filled room.
The smell grew stronger as Scarlett crept nearer. Stooping to get a look at the body, she took a step back, looked away and thrust a hand over her eyes. His jersey was covered in blood stains, which were most prominent around a solitary stab wound in his abdomen. Scarlett let her gaze drift towards his arm, which drooped down the side of the couch, knuckles scraping the floor, and saw that in his hand… was a phone.
And that smell was rotting flesh. Aside from on the body, there wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere else.
She forced herself to turn away from the horrifying scene, hoping to find an explanation for it somewhere in the room. Surprisingly, the living room looked well kept, clean almost. A window, spanning the entire width of the room, looked out on a labyrinth of rooftops and back streets. This was a side of town that she usually only saw when going around the back of the Vintners’s to help with a delivery. She knew, therefore, that there were bound to be people outside having a cigarette, so she proceeded with caution.
A coffee table occupied the middle of the room, in front of the couch, which looked like it had been around since the beginning of time. Creeping forwards, eyes affixed on the window, her shin nudged into the corner of the table.
“Ouch!” she whispered, stooping to rub her grazed leg. Something on the table caught her eye. It was a card, with red ribbons tied in a bow. Not daring to touch it, she bent down for a closer look and came across a melted box of chocolates that looked like its contents had merged into a lake of sweet, brown goo.
Despite everything, Scarlett’s face lit up. “Interesting.”
Grinning, she bent down closer to inspect the card and found it to be adorned with a red lipstick kiss. Even more interesting than that, it was signed with a letter V.
“Rosa?”
Rosa moved across the room to stand behind Scarlett. “You found something?”
Scarlett nodded. “A melted box of chocolates and a card. And look at this.” She pointed at the signature.
Rosa furrowed her brow as if racking her brains. “Letter V? Don’t know what that might stand for.”
“Vivian? Veronica? Think.” Scarlett looked over at Rosa. “Do you know his name?”
Rosa nodded. “Robert McMillan.”
“And how do you know him? Are you his cleaner?”
“Yes. But I only come once a month.”
“So, there’s no way of telling how long he’s been here?”
Rosa shook her head. “Not from me, there isn’t. But there might be someone else that could shed some light onto the matter.”
“Who might that be? Do you know?”
Rosa nodded. “His girlfriend comes here a lot.”
“What’s she called? Do you know?”
“Yes… well, not really.”
Scarlett shook her head in exasperation. “Do you know her name or don’t you?”
“It was some kind of bird, let me think… Robin, Blackbird, something like that.”
Scarlett put on her most serious expression. The situation was far too grave to be amused by Rosa’s ridiculous suggestions.
“Right well, I’m going to have a quick look ‘round. See if I can find any more clues before the police get here. You stay put.”
Rosa nodded and folded her arms.
The first place she tried was the bathroom. An old, rusty shower curtain hung over an olive-colored bathtub, with a partially tiled wall on the far side. The sink was olive too, with the kind of old-fashioned taps that she’d seen in ‘70s movies.
Pulling her sleeves over her hands to avoid leaving fingerprints as she moved things around, she examined every square inch of the bathroom for clues. It was too dark to see anything, but she hesitated to switch on the light.
She examined the shower head. The shower unit on the wall looked like it had never been cleaned, as did all the taps. Concluding it to be one of those showers that emits a fine drizzle of boiling water, then freezes you or cuts out altogether, she moved on. If the bathroom was anything to go by, this was not a luxury flat, meaning Robert McMillan was most likely not a wealthy man.
The ratty, worn out linoleum was next on her agenda. Bending down, she scrutinized every tile, paying close attention to the floorboards exposed by the worn out patches. The floorboards intrigued her, but there was no way of pursuing her investigation of them further without tearing up the linoleum.
The walls were a creamy green color. On the wall opposite the tub there was a huge damp patch, just in front of the toilet. It was on this wall that she came across an old bathroom cabinet. Looking closer, she found it to be full of medicines. It was just a shame that she couldn’t open the transparent plastic doors to get a closer look. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb the crime scene.
She found Rosa in the bedroom, sitting on the end of the bed.
“There’s nothing to report in the bathroom. Maybe there’ll be something in here.”
Rosa nodded and moved her legs in until her heels touched the side of the bed. “Be my guest.”
Scarlett felt suddenly anxious. “Rosa, you try and think of the girlfriend’s name while I have a quick look around. Okay?”
Rosa nodded. “No problem.”
Scarlett bent down to inspect the carpet. It looked like green horse hair. There were some drawers under the bed, but these were full of old, thread
bare towels. There was nothing in the wardrobe either, apart from some clothes that betrayed his lack of style.
“Rosa, have you—” She looked up, but the room was empty. She assumed Rosa must have snuck right past her and left the flat whilst she was looking for clues. Scarlett put her ear to the door of the flat. There was a woman’s voice in the stairwell, which she soon identified as Rosa’s. She was talking to a man or men to be more precise.
“Okay, let’s take a look.” One of the voices said loud and clear.
Scarlett stepped away from the door and pretended to be inspecting the skirting board as footsteps approached.
The door swung open and several policemen strode in, laughing and joking like they owned the place. Scarlett knew from their uniforms that these were not high-ranking officers. They’d sent some regular bobbies to take a look and ascertain if it was worth calling in the big guns.
Scarlett thought back to a time, not too long ago, when she’d had no dealings with the police. Back then, she wouldn’t have been able to tell a constable from a chief inspector. Things had definitely changed since then, and she didn’t know if this was for the better or worse.
“What the—what do you think you’re doing?”
Scarlett felt herself blushing. “I, errr, was just looking around. Thought I’d try and find anything that you might deem useful.”
The policeman, whose voice she recognized as being the one Rosa had been talking to on the stairs, also had a familiar face.
“Good afternoon, miss. PC Baldwin,” he said, extending a hand.
She shook his hand. “Scarlett Slater.”
“Charmed. Now then, Scarlett, get out of my way.”
She moved aside to let him enter the living room and turned to leave.
“Just hang on a minute. Where do you think you’re going?”
Scarlett pivoted around to see him standing feet crossed, propping himself up against the wall. He pointed to the floor in front of him. “Come here. I want a word with you.”
A Very British Witch Boxed Set Page 63