Expose! (28 page)

Eunice’s Ford Fiesta was parked in front of someone’s garage door under a sign that said DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT PARKING HERE.

Putting on my best smile, I strolled over and got into the passenger seat only to be greeted by a curt, “You took your time.”

“Sorry,” I said pleasantly. “I’m covering the snail racing today.”

Eunice handed me the envelope with a scowl. “It’s all in there.”

Bracing myself for the worse, I tore it open and pulled out two typed pages. Skimming the contents, I noted that Robin had obviously done this sort of thing before as he used all sorts of professional jargon like
unlawful attack
and referred to Olive as the
perpetrator
. There was no mention of Topaz—or should I say, the Beast of Bodmin. Eunice had signed her name at the bottom stating the contents were “true, so help me God.”

“You’re quite sure it was Olive who locked you in the stall?” I said.

Eunice snapped an indignant “
Yes
.”

“You didn’t see anything strange, at all?”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“I only ask because of the
Bugle
, which, by the way is a dreadful newspaper.”

“It’s utter filth. I won’t have it in the house.”

“Glad to hear it. As I was saying, the
Bugle
carried a photograph of a huge catlike creature stalking the car park on Friday night. Several of the guests claim they saw it, too. Apparently, the newspaper is offering a reward for any further information.”

Eunice was quiet for what seemed like a full two minutes until she asked, “What kind of reward?”

“I can probably find out,” I said, encouraged by the glint of greed I caught in Eunice’s eye. “Olive Larch was convinced she saw something jump in through the ladies’ loo window and we’ll soon find out what it was.”

“How?”

“There are CCTV cameras everywhere.” I pointed to one located under the eaves of the garage roof above us—although I happened to know it was a fake. “Whatever went on in the bathroom was filmed. As a matter of fact, the police are checking it right now.” This was sort of true.

“That was why I was talking to Detective Sergeant Probes earlier.”

Eunice’s face crumpled. “I knew there was something there!” she wailed. “But Robin didn’t believe me.”

“Well,
I
believe you. Let’s forget about the assault charge for now.” With a huge sigh of relief I took out my notebook. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened?”

“I really
was
trying to help that stupid woman but she panicked,” said Eunice. “Even at school she was pathetic claiming she couldn’t do games because of her nerves. Dougie didn’t—”

“You said you were helping her.”

“Something horrible
did
climb in the window.” Eunice’s eyes grew wide at the memory. “I’ve never seen anyone so frightened before. All the color drained out of Olive’s face. She grabbed a pair of nail scissors from her handbag and started doing this.” Eunice made stabbing motions, mirroring those—rather too well—from the shower scene at the Bates motel in
Psycho
.

“What happened next?”

Eunice dropped her hand. “Olive started to hyperven tilate. When Robin was little, he used to do that if he didn’t get his own way so I knew what to do.”

Yet another strike against Robin as potential husband material. “Did you actually see the . . . creature?”

“It came in the window behind me but—” Eunice shuddered. “I felt its evil presence.”

“Go on.”

“Olive collapsed. She was gasping for breath.” Eunice began to tremble. “There was a paper bag in the rubbish bin—that always worked on Robin. I got on top of her and tried to hold the bag over her nose and mouth.” Eunice grabbed my arm, her voice urgent. “She fought me. Screaming. Thrashing around with those nail scissors and then—” Eunice licked her lips. “The c-c-creature . . . it picked me up. Shook me and threw me into the stall. I thought it was going to eat me alive.” With another agonizing wail, Eunice let go my arm and slumped forward over the steering wheel.

“How awful,” I said, gently rubbing her back. I know it sounded unkind but I had this urge to laugh my head off. The idea of anyone thinking Topaz was the Beast of Bodmin was ludicrous. “It must have been a dreadful shock.”

“Robin is going to be very angry,” she whimpered.

“He doesn’t need to know for now. Let’s just wait and see what the CCTV cameras reveal.”

“Yes. Good.” Eunice seemed to magically perk up. “Are you ready?”

“For what?” I said warily.

“To talk to Olive,” said Eunice. “I don’t want her getting hurt.”

“The officer will be there all day,” I lied. “Why would Olive get hurt?”

“She needs to know that Dougie loves me,” Eunice said earnestly. “He told me that if anything ever happened to Scarlett we would be together forever. He made me promise that nothing would stand in our way.”

My heart sank. This was seriously alarming. “You haven’t told anyone this, have you?”

“Dougie didn’t even bother with Olive until recently.”

“You said you all went to school together.”

“We were all at the
same
school. Different years. Everyone had a crush on Dougie but he never gave Olive the time of day. Why now?
Why?
”

I knew exactly why. Money—the oldest motive for murder in the book. With Sammy Larch dead, Olive had inherited millions of pounds.

“She needs to know he’s mine,” Eunice went on. “She needs to know he’s still calling me
every
day.”

“I think you
should
tell her,” I said smoothly “But in private. Not in front of that lot in there.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Eunice nodded. “She’d be embarrassed, wouldn’t she?”

“As for your statement,” I said, changing the subject. “Just tell Robin that we’re waiting to see what turns up in the CCTV footage. I must go now. Bye.”

As I watched the silver Ford Fiesta leave the car park, I realized I was no further forward in my Fleming-has-an-accomplice theory.

My mind returned to Pam Green’s words about Sammy Larch’s death being convenient. Even though Dr. Frost had signed the death certificate, it was Steve who’d arrived first on the scene. I hadn’t thought about it at the time, but maybe he did have a good reason to want to talk to a
real
reporter.

With Topaz present tonight, too, there would be safety in numbers. I only hoped this wasn’t a case of out of the frying pan, into the fire.

30

Topaz was waiting outside The Copper Kettle. “You’re late.”

“Goodness,” I gawked. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Even though I was used to Topaz’s many disguises, tonight she’d really gone to town. For a start, it looked as if she had used a garden trowel to plaster on her makeup—heavy black eyeliner, thick blue eye shadow, and scarlet lipstick. She wore a black halter-neck top that was practically transparent and no bra. An indecently short black skirt exposed sturdy thighs, which were clad in fishnet stockings. The whole effect was somewhat risqué and made me nervous. “Where’s Steve?”

“Change of plan,” she said. “We’re going to Badger Drive.”

The phrase
ménage à trois
flew instantly to mind. “No. I don’t think so.”

“But you promised!” Topaz stamped her foot. “If you don’t come, I’m going to tell Annabel that you asked me to spy on her.”

“Don’t be childish,” I said, irritated.

“Steve really wants to see us,” said Topaz. “He said he had something very important to talk about and wanted to tell you—me, really—in person.”

The problem was, I really
did
need to talk to Steve.

While the afternoon had dragged on at the Three Tuns, I’d been able to watch Fleming and Olive for all four heats of the Three-Yard Endurance—
and
the Finals. It was clear he was fond of her—unless he’d been putting on an act for everyone to see, which was possible. He did perform with the Bards, after all.

Given the fact that Fleming was newly widowed, I was astonished that no one seemed to think his lovey-dovey behavior unusual. But Barbara claimed that, “when you get to our age, you take love when you can.” She certainly wasn’t the only one holding that opinion. Many thought the new couple “sweet” and “darling.”

Olive being worth millions troubled me. If Fleming was capable of knocking off his wife of forty years, I was quite sure he’d have no problem doing the same to Olive.

“All right. I’ll come with you,” I said to Topaz. “But I can only stay an hour and I’m taking my moped.”

“Suits me.” Topaz gestured to her rucksack on the floor in the doorway. “I might end up staying overnight anyway.”

“You probably will—looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“I’m only saying we’re supposed to be professional newspaper reporters. If you want to be taken seriously, you need to dress for the part.”

“I
am
dressed for the part,” Topaz said, puzzled. “It’s you who isn’t.”

I had deliberately removed what small trace of makeup I usually wore and picked a gray moth-eaten turtleneck sweater and jeans. My plan was to look as unattractive as possible. I wasn’t taking any chances with either of them.

“Let’s get this over and done with,” I said. “I’ll meet you there.”

Moments later, Topaz roared past in her Capri, hand firmly on her DeLorean
Back To the Future
themed horn. When she gunned the V-8 engine the customized double exhaust set off all the car alarms parked along the High Street. I was very glad I’d decided to travel under my own steam judging by the stares and fist waving from many disgruntled motorists and pedestrians alike.

Steve lived in a four-story Victorian house in Badger Drive, which had been converted into flats. I left my moped next to the empty Capri and went inside where I found Topaz chattering to Hilda Hicks who was holding a green canvas bag emblazoned with the logo PINGIRL PONIES.

“I take it the snail crowd have gone by now?” Ms. Hicks said in her loud, strident voice. Sunday night was bowling night at the Three Tuns skittle alley.

“They were putting the tables away when I left an hour ago,” I said. “Though I expect many will still be drinking in the bar.”

“Better be off then,” she boomed. “Ms. Potter, should I telephone Ms. Turberville-Spat to firm up the details?”

“Don’t worry,” said Topaz, giving me a sly wink, “I talk to Ethel all the time. I’ll make sure she sends over the paperwork.”

“Jolly good. Jolly good.” Ms. Hicks smiled again and, with a curt nod, strode out of the house.

“What was all that about?” I said, as we began the endless, tortuous climb to Steve’s top-floor flat.

“I’m leasing out the stable block and grounds to the Riding Club for their summer camp,” Topaz said. “It’s funny how the old bat doesn’t know who I really am.”

Neither did I. I often wondered if Topaz even knew who she was herself.

The next time we spoke was outside Steve’s front door. I rang the bell.

“Wait a moment.” Topaz panted as she dumped her rucksack on the floor. There was a loud, metallic-sounding clunk. Pulling out a pair of high, strappy dancing shoes, she took off her black pumps and slipped the shoes on. They looked very similar to those I’d borrowed from Sadie.

My heart sank. “You haven’t got a collapsible pole in that rucksack by any chance?” I said half joking. It would certainly explain Topaz’s racy ensemble.

“It’s supposed to be a surprise. Don’t say anything.”

“I won’t, as long as you promise to keep that pole in there until I leave.”

Steve threw open the door with a broad smile, which instantly evaporated. “Topaz!” he said horrified. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello darling.” She kissed him on the cheek and swept imperiously inside. “Oh, how frightfully sweet. You’re playing our song.” The sound of ABBA’s “Take A Chance On Me” filled the air.

Hadn’t Steve played the very same song to me the first time I came here? Amused, I raised a quizzical eyebrow to our host for the evening.

Steve looked mortified. “The song is for you, doll, not her,” he protested. Somehow, I didn’t believe him.

Steve was dressed in neatly pressed khakis and a crisp white—and tight—short-sleeved shirt. His usual twinkling blue eyes looked troubled as he corralled me into the tiny space behind the front door and grabbed my hand. “What’s
she
doing here?”

As always, a frisson of electricity surged through my body at his touch. I was acutely aware of his scent—Old Spice and antiseptic—and looked for an escape. “Apparently, you invited us both.”

“Hey!” Topaz shouted from within. “When do I get my Steve Special?”

“Not tonight,” Steve called out then, in a low voice added urgently, “I swear I only invited
you
.”

“Topaz said you had something important to tell me.”

He looked sheepish. “The truth is, you looked so hot at the Gala on Friday, doll. I just had to see you again and I knew you’d say no.”