Tapas, Carrot Cake and a Corpse (A Charlotte Denver Cozy Mystery Book 1) (9 page)

Charlotte looked up the pier.  The police cordon was still in place around
The Lady Samantha
, and a police officer was still permanently stationed at the entrance to the pier.  She hoped that after today, it wouldn’t be long before both the cordon, and the officer, would be removed, and St. Eves could resume its usual state of calm. 

“Have you got room in the kitchen fridge to put some of this champagne?” asked Jess.  “The bar fridge is just about full to bursting.”

“I’m sure there’s room – here, give me those bottles and I’ll fit them in somewhere.” Charlotte was trying to wedge the champagne between the lemon meringue pie and a tray of avocados when she heard Gabe Driscoll’s voice. 

“Good morning, love,” he said to Jess.  “Is Charlotte around?”

“Hang on a minute,” Charlotte called out from the kitchen.  “I’m just putting the last of your champagne in the fridge.”  She popped her head up over the swing door.  “Hi, you’re a bit early, aren’t you?” she said.

“I wanted to pop in and make sure that everything will be ready for when we arrive later,” said Gabe.  “There’ll be 11 of us for lunch, and then people will be joining us throughout the afternoon for drinks.  Now, I understand that Ava, Harriett and Betty have already booked their lunch for 12.30 pm?  Well, I’ve just seen them and told them that I was hoping we could all sit down for lunch together at 2.00 pm and they said that’s OK with them.  I assume you can accommodate all 11 of us at 2.00 pm?”

Charlotte came through the swing door and took the reservations diary from under the bar.  “Yes, that’s no problem.  We’ll push some tables together and reserve them for you for 2.00 pm.  I’m glad you came in and told us – we didn’t realise you’d invited so many for lunch, and I would have hated not to have had enough space for you all.”

“That’s great … and the champagne is chilling, you say?” asked Gabe.

“Yes, everything’s under control.  All you need to do is turn up with your guests and enjoy yourselves,” Jess smiled,

“Excellent!  Well, I’ll be on my way – we’ll see you later.  Oh, and one more thing – everything’s on me today, OK?  I don’t want any of my guests paying for anything.”  With that, Gabe sauntered off along the marina front, whistling softly to himself.

“Y’know, I’m really looking forward to the party,” said Jess.  “I know I’ll be working, but it’s about time we had something else to focus on around here apart from that flippin’ murder.  It’ll be nice to have something else to talk about tomorrow.”

You have no idea
, thought Charlotte, as she nodded and smiled.

ººººººº

“We’re going to run out of champagne at the rate that lot are guzzling it,” Jess said happily, as she came through to the kitchen for another two bottles.  “That solicitor guy is knocking it back like water!  Mind you, everyone’s having a whale of a time, and I have to say, the atmosphere’s contagious.”

Charlotte heard the corks pop and the cheer that followed, and was glad she was in the kitchen.  She wouldn’t have felt comfortable sharing in the celebrations knowing what was about to happen.

At 4.30 pm she heard Nathan speaking to PC Farrell as they walked along the footpath at the side of the café and, despite the heat of the day, she went cold. 
Oh my … here we go. 
She went out into the café and stood by the doors.

“Ah, Chief Inspector Costello, PC Farrell – can I offer you some champagne?” asked Gabe, as the police officers walked around the corner and onto the terrace.

“No, thank you.  We’re on duty,” replied Nathan.  “In fact, as sorry as I am to break up your party, I have a few more questions.  I don’t mind telling you, this case had me stumped for a while, but thanks to the help of certain members of the community, and the dedicated work of the investigating team, I’m delighted to report that I am now able to reveal the name of Blake’s Hamilton’s killer.”

A ripple of applause went around the table, and Ava, Harriett and Betty raised their glasses to Nathan and PC Farrell with calls of “Oh, well done!” “Congratulations,” and “Bravo, Bravo.”

The look of contempt on Gabe’s face was palpable.  “For crying out loud – you really are the most inept policeman I’ve ever met.  Can’t you just give her a break?  I mean, you had her in custody for almost two days and couldn’t charge her with anything.  And d’you know why?  Because. She. Didn’t. Do. Anything.  That’s why.”  Clearly furious, Gabe spat out the words and put his arm around Samantha’s shoulders.

“Yes, I’m fully aware of that,” said Nathan.  “But it’s not your wife I’m here to question, Mr. Driscoll.  It’s you.”

The excited chatter around the table stopped immediately and Gabe’s glass of champagne came to a halt halfway to his mouth.  “
Me
?” he said, incredulously.  “Why?  I haven’t done anything … why on earth do you want to question me?” 

“Well, before I get to that, let me tell you how we arrived at where we are now.  Do you mind if I pull up a chair?”  Nathan put down a box he was carrying, before dragging a chair from another table and settling himself next to Samantha.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then paused and pointed to a bottle of sparkling water on the table.  “Would you mind if I had a glass of water, please?” he asked.  “I’ve got a very dry throat all of a sudden.” 

“No, not at all,” said Samantha, and passed him a glass.

“PC Farrell, would you like some?” Nathan turned to his colleague, who shook her head.

“
For God’s sake! 
Can we
please
get on with it!” Gabe roared, and slammed his hand down on the table, his grey eyes staring daggers at Nathan. 

Nathan took a sip from his glass and set it down quietly.  “That’s quite a temper you have there, Mr. Driscoll … I suggest you calm it down,” he said firmly, his eyes locking on Gabe’s. 

Gabe looked down at the table, red-faced and breathing deeply.

“I would advise you to say nothing, Mr. Driscoll.  I would ‘vise it very, um, strongly indeed,” piped up an extremely tipsy Vincent Ramone, pointing a finger at no-one in particular.  Having been given an unexpected afternoon off by Gabe to attend the party, he had taken full advantage of the open bar and drunk rather more champagne than he was accustomed to in the middle of the day. 

Gabe gave him a withering look.  “Oh, shut up Vincent – I’ll say what I like.  He’s got nothing on me.  And by the way - you look ridiculous.”

Nathan looked at the solicitor, and bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from grinning.  Vincent Ramone was wearing Ava’s floppy sun hat and looked about as un-hotshot-solicitor’ish as it was possible to look.  “Right,” he said.  “I’ll continue.” 

He cleared his throat.  “We knew that Blake Hamilton had been poisoned – as was reported on the news, that was established very early in our investigation.  What was more difficult to establish, though, was
why
he’d been poisoned, and
why
he was on your boat in the first place.  Nothing was stolen, nothing was even disturbed.  And the question also remained … how did he get on it?” 

“I
told
you how he got on the boat,” interrupted Gabe, irritably.  “I told you that I must have left the gangplank unsecure when I went to the gym, making it easy for him to get on board and rob us.” 

“Hmmm.  No … I don’t think so, Mr. Driscoll.  You see, I believe that you were
expecting
Mr. Hamilton.  I believe that you were on the boat when he boarded it – at your invitation – after which, you gave him a drink laced with your wife’s medication, before injecting him with weed killer.”

There were horrified gasps around the table, the loudest from Samantha Driscoll, who covered her face with her hands. 

“Callously leaving Mr. Hamilton to die, you then made your escape on the spare life boat, before destroying it and casting it back into the sea.  Of course, you expected it to be taken out with the tide, which it was … but unfortunately for you, the tide also washed it up close to shore after the storm.

“Then you went to the gym and took a shower to clean up, making a point of speaking to the receptionist on the way out to ensure that he would remember you’d been there.”  Nathan leaned down and took an evidence bag out of the box he’d been carrying.  Inside it were the remains of the life boat that Garrett had found.  

Gabe looked at him, his eyes moving from the evidence bag to Nathan’s face. Suddenly, he threw his head back and laughed, slapping his thigh.  “Oh, that’s a good one Chief Inspector!  What a vivid imagination you must have.  There’s only one thing I have to say in response to your fantastic supposition ….” he stopped laughing and fixed Nathan with a stony glare, “… prove it.”

Nathan smiled pleasantly.  “Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Driscoll - I’m getting there.”  He put the evidence bag back into the box and pulled out another one.  Gabe sat up straight in his seat and leaned forward to see what was inside. 

“This was found along with the remains of the life boat,” he held up the bag.  “It’s Mr. Hamilton’s wallet.  The fact that all his credit cards are still in there, along with over £350, indicates that whoever killed him didn’t want his money – they obviously had another reason to want him dead.  Now, inside the wallet is something that we thought was a business card, until yesterday when another piece of evidence came to light that proved our assumptions wrong.”

Nathan bent forward again and took another evidence bag from the box, holding it up for Gabe to see.  Inside was Blake’s silver pendant.

“Oh no, no, no, no – where did you get that?  I got rid of it – I threw it into the sea!” Nathan was caught a little off-guard when Gabe remained motionless in his seat, and Samantha jumped up, shouting wildly.

“Mishis. Driscoll, I’d also shtrongly ‘vise you to, um, shay nothing,” Vincent Ramone slurred from behind Ava’s hat, the brim of which was now completely obscuring his face. 

“Oh
,
shut
up
, Vincent!” she shouted, before flopping back down in her seat. 

“Mrs. Driscoll?” Nathan said, enquiringly.  “Would you care to elaborate?”

Samantha looked at him, then at Gabe, and burst into tears.   

“Gabe, you didn’t kill Blake, did you?  Please tell me you didn’t kill him,” she grabbed her husband’s hand, imploring him to tell her the truth. 

“What are you talking about, woman?!  Of course I didn’t kill him,” Gabe shouted, shaking her hand away.

“In that case, Mr. Driscoll.  How do you explain this?” Nathan delved into the box again and pulled out the final, and most incriminating piece of evidence.  Inside the bag was a syringe, an empty muscle relaxant pills box, and a bottle of weed killer. 

For the first time that afternoon, Gabe began to look uncomfortable, but he continued with his denial.  “I’ve never seen any of that stuff before,” he said.

“So how do you explain the fact that everything in this bag is covered in your fingerprints?” asked Nathan.

Gable looked frantically around the table.  “Why … why would I kill him?  What reason would I have had to kill Blake Hamilton?” Gabe spluttered to his guests.  “Why wou …”

“Tell them, Gabe,” Samantha’s voice interrupted him.  Her voice was trembling and her face tear-stained.  “Just tell them, will you.  If you don’t, I will … I can’t carry on like this.”

Gabe put his head into his hands and sat in silence.

“Perhaps this will shed some light on the situation,” said Nathan, and held up the bag with the silver pendant inside.  It was open, as it had been when Charlotte had given it to him, and the photograph inside clearly visible.  In it, Gabe and Blake stood side by side, their arms draped around each other, smiling widely at the camera.  In the top right-hand corner of the picture was blue sky and green palm trees, which had been a perfect match to the ‘business card’ that had been found in Blake’s wallet.  “It wasn’t your wife that Blake was here to see, was it, Mr. Driscoll?  It was you.”

There were more gasps from around the table, but still Gabe said nothing.

Samantha’s quiet voice suddenly spoke up.  “Yes, it was.”  She turned to her husband.  “I’ve got to tell him, Gabe.  I know how difficult it’s been for us to keep this secret, and how much it’s damaged our relationship, but how could you have killed Blake because of it?  How
could
you?”  She blew her nose loudly before continuing.

“It’s true.  Blake was here to see Gabe … because he was in love with him.  They met years ago – when Gabe’s first wife was still alive – and they’ve kept in touch ever since.  When I met Gabe, I thought they were just friends, but after we married, I found letters that they’d sent to each other.  It was pretty obvious that they were much more than friends, and that Gabe had only married me to put people off the scent.  He was petrified that someone might find out about his secret lover; scared that his kids would disown him and that he’d be shunned by all the members at his snobby country club.  Being married to me was the perfect decoy.

“Not that our marriage was a complete sham, though,” she sniffed and smiled weakly, looking around the table.  “I really did love him, and we had our good times.  In fact, we decided to try and make a real go of things a few months ago.  That’s why we’re here – we were going to sail around the country for a year to get away from it all, but everywhere we went, Blake found us.  He must have been tracking Gabe’s phone.