Murder Actually (15 page)

“Shoot.”

“Why did you lie about going home after the book reading?”

He regarded me warily. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I think you do. You met with Nora. I heard you talking to her at the funeral.”

An inscrutable expression flashed across his features and then was gone. “Yes, I met with Nora that night, but I never went back to Black Birches and I didn't go to the studio.”

“You lied.”

“To protect Nora!”

“You'd do anything to protect her, wouldn't you?”

“Listen to me, Elspeth. If there's direct evidence connecting me to the murders the police can come and arrest me. And do you know why they haven't? Because that evidence doesn't exist!”

“So, you're denying you were at Jasper's studio that night?”

“Categorically. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to have a word with my wife.”

I watched him walk away and went to track down Julia. She was enduring a graphic account of Professor Walsh's latest abdominal skirmish, and was pathetically grateful when I pulled her away.

“Thanks, Elspeth. I'm not sure I could've taken much more talk about innards. It's the most disgusting word on the planet.”

I told her about my conversations with Crispin and Alex and shook my head. “I'm zero for two; I'm going to call it a night.”

“Don't worry, Elspeth, we'll figure this out,” she said confidently.

I didn't share Julia's buoyancy and I left the party feeling discouraged. I could've sworn Crispin Wickford's astonishment over the blackmail note hadn't been feigned, but if Crispin wasn't the blackmailer who was?

I got home and let Blue in for his dinner. He was on a diet and restricted to two small portions per day. He gave his bowl one disgusted sniff and then sauntered away. I suspected Rose and Sabrina were feeding him on the sly and decided to give them some brochures on feline obesity when I noticed there was a message on my phone.

It was Crispin Wickford. He sounded excited and breathless. “Elspeth, listen to me, it's Crispin. I have something to tell you. I remembered something from that night, something about my camera and those photographs. I'd totally forgotten about it at the time, but I'm pretty sure it was…it's crazy…there's no way she could have…never mind...it's just too incredible. Call me… I'm at the office.”

Beep. The phone at the other end had clicked.

Dead.

I grabbed my cell phone with trembling fingers and dialed the number of the
Gazette
.

No answer.

I decided to head downtown and talk to Crispin in person.

 

 

 

The night sky was overcast as I parked in front of the
Gazette
office, and the lights from the boardwalk did little to dispel the gloom in the empty streets. I pulled my sweater close and shivered.

It was a spooky night.

The clouds obscured the pale moonlight, and I could almost believe the Old Dutch superstitions about the witching hour and favorite haunts of ghosts and goblins. As I hurried down the street I was suddenly reminded of the creepy line from Macbeth:

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes...something wicked this way comes...

I gave myself a mental shake and cautiously approached the front windows of the
Gazette
. The shutters were closed tightly and I couldn't hear any noises inside.

I tried the front door.

Locked.

Of course it was locked! Even if Crispin was working late he wouldn't just leave the door open. I banged loudly and stopped to listen.

Nothing.

The
Gazette
was in a strip of shops along High Street, and I walked to the corner and turned towards the back of the store. The space was poorly lit, and I felt a shiver of fear as I looked down the dark alley.

Anyone could be down there.

Waiting…

…watching.

“Get a grip, Elspeth,” I said aloud. “It's just an alley.”

The words barely left my mouth when I was startled by the sound of a door closing somewhere close by. I peered into the gloom and could just make out a dark figure hurrying down the corridor.

“Crispin!” I called out. “Wait!”

My voice rang out shrilly and I sensed the figure turn to look at me. I instinctively drew back into the shadows, my breath coming hard and fast.

It couldn't be Crispin.

It was too tall.

Whoever it was seemed to be trying to seek me out in the darkness, the head moving restlessly from side-to-side, and I held my breath until it turned and moved silently and swiftly down the alley.

I briefly considered giving chase when my basic training from horror movies kicked in.

Rule Number One: The woman who goes down a dark alley alone with a murderer on the loose always ends up dead.

I pulled out my cell phone and called Julia.

Ten long minutes later she was by my side.

“What are we doing?” she asked excitedly.

I noticed she was dressed head to toe in sleek black. “You look like Johnny Cash.”

“Thanks. What are we doing?”

I explained to her about the message Crispin left on my machine.

“We have to get in there! I wish we had Ms. Weebles, or even Blue. Cats are notoriously adept at breaking and entering.”

I shook my head. “Leave my cat out of this. He still hasn't recovered from you entering him in that cat show last fall.”

“We would've won if he'd kept on the wig. C'mon…” She tugged me in the direction of the
Gazette
door.

“We can't get in that way, Julia. I already tried, it's locked.”

Julia silently produced a paperclip from her handbag straightened it. She worked for a few minutes and let out a sound of satisfaction as we heard a soft click.

I was amazed. “How did you learn to do that?”

Julia returned the paperclip to her purse. “If you've locked yourself out of your house as many times as I have you learn to be resourceful. These little doorknobs are simple.”

I was a little concerned about Julia's criminal capabilities and even more concerned about her forgetfulness, but our attention was diverted as the door to the
Gazette
swung slowly open with a low creaking noise.

I looked fearfully back down the alley, but could detect no one lurking in the shadows.

“You go first, Elspeth,” Julia whispered.

“Me! Why?”

“Because I'm just the sidekick! If one of us is going to be killed it will be me!”

“Sidekick? You're running this show, Buffy.”

“Just go.”

“Fine, but if I die you need to go to my house and get rid of everything in the top drawer of my bedside table.”

“Done. And the same goes for me.”

We entered cautiously, Julia keeping a death grip on the back of my sweater.

“You're choking me.”

“Sorry.”

She slightly loosened her grasp and I let my eyes become accustomed to the darkness. I could just make out some file cabinets against the wall and a sink and cabinets.

“I think this is the break area,” I whispered. “Crispin's office is at the front of the building.”

“Let's go.”

I groped my way down the hallway, feeling along the wall for any light fixtures. Either my hands were too low or too high because I came up empty. We passed by a restroom and another small room filled with cabinets. I could see chinks of light ahead and realized the moonlight was shining through the plantation shutters at the front of the shop.

“I should be able to find a light when we get near the door.”

We stepped into the front office and my hand found a switch just inside the door.

“Finally.”

It was the first time I had used my normal voice, and we both jumped as the space flooded with light.

“Look at that!” Julia pointed towards Crispin's desk.

It was a disaster.

The desktop was riddled with papers, photographs and files, and the drawers had all been pulled open and emptied onto the floor. File cabinets on either side of the desk were likewise looted and the waste baskets overturned, adding to the chaos of the scene.

We made slow progress towards the desk, and as we approached I let out a sigh of relief.

I'd fully expected to find Crispin's bloody corpse laying there and I smiled as I turned back to Julia. “I'm glad that's over.”

Julia clearly didn't share my relief, and her expression was horrified as she raised a shaking hand towards the dark corner opposite the desk.

“What's wrong with you?” I felt a sudden frisson of fear, and slowly turned and followed the direction of her hand.

My knees went weak.

Crispin Wickford lay on the floor, his tongue lolling grotesquely from his mouth and his face an unhealthy shade of black. A large brick lay next to him, covered in blood.

I stepped back onto Julia's foot. “Ouch, careful.”

“Call the police!”

Julia took out her cell phone and called the number that was becoming distressingly familiar. I listened to the one-sided conversation with the dispatcher.

“Hello, Jackie? It's Julia Berry. Yes, as a matter of a fact it is bad news. I'm down at the
Gazette
office with Elspeth Gray. We've found Crispin Wickford, he's dead. Dead. Yes, very sure. He's dead, murdered.
Murdered
. It looks like he's been strangled with something. Yes, strangled. No, we haven't touched anything. No, we aren't going anywhere. Okay, we'll be here.”

She hung up and looked at me in resignation. “Jackie is calling Liddell. She said Sergeant Jack will be here in a few minutes.”

I sat back and raised a shaky hand to my mouth. Poor Crispin…dead. And such a way to die. Crispin, who was always so fastidious in appearance, looking like that. It was almost too much, and I cursed myself for not moving faster. A few minutes might've made all the difference to poor Crispin.

Julia rummaged through her handbag and produced a small compact.

“What are you doing?”

“Elspeth, make-up is my defense mechanism, give me a break.”

I watched as she applied lip gloss with a shaky hand and then reluctantly approached the body. Crispin was lying on his back with his head facing the front doorway. He was wearing the same slacks and vest from the faculty party, and I knelt down by his side and felt for a pulse.

“Do you see anything?”

“Well, he's definitely dead.”

“No duh, look at his tongue! I mean do you see any clues?”

“You don't have to whisper, Julia. I told you, he's dead.”

“Do you see anything?” she asked in a normal voice.

“Not yet.”

I crawled on my hands and knees along the floor, peering under the desk and cabinets and trying to ignore the body lying a few feet away from me. I was finally rewarded when I saw something glistening under the bookshelf.

I stood up quickly. “There's something under that bookshelf.”

“What is it?”

“Give me a tissue!”

I wrapped the small item and drew it out into the light. “It's an earring.”

It was exquisite. It was a small black pearl, perfectly shaped and luminous in the light of the office.

Julia gasped. “A pearl earring! That's the same clue from
Deadly Harbor
! Betts,” she said solemnly. “This is getting spooky.”

I agreed with her on many levels. “Do you recognize it? For some reason it looks familiar.”

“You're right, I've seen someone wearing earrings like that, but I can't remember who it was.”

I carefully replaced the earring where I found it and stood up to brush my hands. “I don't see anything else.”

“What exactly did he say on the phone?”

“He mentioned something about his camera…something about a picture…” My voice trailed away as I looked over the mess on his desk and stepped forward to grab another tissue.

“Maybe there's something here.”

There were a dozen or so photographs on Crispin's desk and I scanned through them rapidly. Nothing caught my eye, so I went through again, this time more slowly.

I shook my head. “I have no idea what he could've seen. It's just a bunch of photos of the best and brightest of All Hallows.”

“Maybe he marked one of them? Check the back.”

I went through again and shook my head. “No, nothing.”

I pulled out my cell phone and began taking pictures of the photographs. My copies wouldn't be the best, but maybe I would see what Crispin had seen.

I finished just as the front door rattled and I quickly stepped into the center of the room.

“Police! Are you girls in there?”

“Jack!” Julia opened the door and threw herself into his arms. “I'm so glad you're here!”

“Hello, ladies.” Jack set Julia aside. He was followed closely by Chief Liddell, who stopped just in the doorway and eyed the scene in disgust.

“Has anyone ever told the two of you that you're bad luck?”

“Not me, but I'm sure Julia's heard it before.”

“What are you doing here?”

I explained again about the message on my machine and Crispin's mention of his camera.

“Have you touched anything?”

I shook my head. “Just checked him for a pulse.”

He turned to Julia and scowled. “How about you?”

Her face turned even more pale and I noticed Sergeant Jack step forward protectively.

“No, I didn't touch anything,” she said.

Liddell knelt by the body and Jack joined him. “Déjà vu all over again, huh Jack?”

“Looks that way, sir. Deceased appears to have been hit with the brick and then strangled with a length of wire. There are some signs of a struggle, the picture knocked off the wall and the papers on the desk messed about…” Jack felt Crispin again. “He's still warm. He can't have been dead for long.”

Liddell gave his fingers a quick sniff and then turned to look up at us. “What time did you get here?”

“Around eleven,” I said. “I thought I saw someone in the alley.”

“Did you recognize them?”

“No, it was too dark. I couldn't even tell you if it was a man or a woman.”

Liddell turned to Julia. “What about you?”

She cleared her throat nervously. “I got here a little after Elspeth. She called me and told me she needed back-up.”

Liddell snorted. “Back-up,” he said disgustedly. He turned to me. “What exactly did Mr. Wickford tell you on the phone?”

“He said he remembered something from the night of the book reading, something about a photograph. He was very excited.”

“Did he say anything else? Mention any names?”

“No, but I think he said ‘she'.”

“She?”

“Yes, Crispin used the term ‘she' in reference to someone in the photographs.”

“Did you leave the message on your machine?”

“Yes, I came right over. I was worried about him.” I cleared my throat nervously. “I think I should tell you, we both saw Crispin earlier tonight.”

“Where?”

“We were attending a faculty function at Essex University.”

“Mr. Wickford was there?”

“Yes, he was taking photographs for the
Gazette
, you know, the
Out and About
column.”

Liddell grunted. “Did he mention anything at this party? Did he talk about anyone?”

I shook my head and tried to remember our conversation. “Just something about his pictures from the book reading.”

Liddell glanced around the room. “Find his camera, Jack.”

Jack obediently began rooting through the mess of papers on the floor, and I swallowed bravely. “I probably should also tell you that Julia and I found a clue.” I crouched down and pointed out the earring under the bookshelf.

Sergeant Jack carefully placed the earring in a baggie and labeled it with the date and location.

Liddell turned back to me. “Do you recognize it?”

“No, it's not mine.”

“Or mine,” Julia chimed.

Liddell scowled. “Okay, that narrows it down to a few thousand. Was anyone at the book reading also at this party you attended tonight? Anyone with a connection to Jasper Ware or Violet Ambler?”