Fetch a Pail of Murder (We're Not Dead Yet Club Book 1) Read online

  “If you’re hoping to head back anytime soon, ladies, I’m afraid you’re in for a bit of a disappointment.”

  Ida May stepped towards the back door, her ears pricking up to listen to what was going on inside: “Why’s that?”

  “Milton,” Cecil replied - that was enough of an explanation.

  He looked back down at the wood in his hand and continued whittling. Hazel watched him curiously for a few minutes before settling down beside him, her eyes transfixed on the wood as Cecil gently carved out a neat design.

  I stepped up to Ida May and joined her in eavesdropping.

  The voices inside the house were very faint – they were probably coming from the lounge area on the far side of the property, but Milton’s exasperated tones and Milton’s booming voice were clearly audible, if not necessarily comprehensible.

  Ida May glanced up at me. I knew she was thinking the same thing. Milton was something of a bore once he had an idea in his mind.

  Cecil became aware of the silence around him and glanced back up at me. He gave a brief shrug and stretched out his fingers before grasping a firmer hold on the knife.

  “I’d offer you a lift home,” he announced. “I brought my van with me, but there’s no telling how long the old boy will take.”

  “It’s alright,” I replied. “Don was going to drive us back anyway.”

  Cecil raised a single eyebrow. “Well good luck getting him out of there. Milton seems pretty set on causing a ruckus this time.” He returned to his whittling, although he still glanced up at us every now and again. “You ladies visit the Senior Center too?”

  Hazel nodded firmly. “We’re regulars.”

  “Strange. I ain’t never seen you there before.”

  “We haven’t seen you there either,” shot back Ida May, turning away from her eavesdropping. “Nor Milton or Percy for that matter.”

  “Hmmm,” Cecil replied. “I guess we just move in different circles. Although - to tell the truth – I much prefer yours to mine.”

  He looked pointedly up at Ida May. If I didn’t know better I’d say she was blushing beneath her well-applied make-up, although her body language suggested otherwise. She gave a small huff and turned back to the door to listen. Cecil let out a small laugh and returned to his wood.

  A few seconds passed before she leant in towards me.

  “What’s the plan, Clara?”

  I blinked. “What do you mean, what’s the plan? Why do I have to come up with the plan?”

  “You know Don. You know Percy and Milton. If anyone has a chance of breaking those three up, you do…”

  “And leave you out here with Cecil?”

  Ida May risked a quick glance behind her before leaning in towards me and whispering: “Good point. We’ll break them up together.”

  “And Hazel?”

  Ida May looked again and shrugged. “She seems happy enough. She might even have found another hobby for the next few hours.”

  We both laughed and headed inside.

  The back door entered into the kitchen - a large parlor that contained an odd mixture of the newest appliances and old artifacts from a time long left behind. This had very much been Don’s domain when Aunt Ruby was alive – she wasn’t one for cooking – but she still insisted on stamping her own style on the place. As we stepped past the roaring fire stove, I smiled at the thought that – even after her death – Don was still lighting it. It was his own personal memorial to her, although I doubt he’d ever admit it.

  We moved out into the corridor and followed Milton and Don’s raised voices as they floated through from the lounge. I was about to push open the lounge door when Ida May’s hand grasped a firm hold of my wrist. Before I’d even managed to turn towards her, she’d placed her index finger tightly against her lips and nodded pointedly towards the door. Following her lead, I stepped up to the door and we both placed our ears against the wood.

  “Ruby was very specific.” Milton’s voice sounded almost exasperated. “She wanted her will read in this room, in this house, soon after her funeral. She didn’t want there to be weeks and weeks of indecision. She above all others knew that life is short – relatively speaking – and she wouldn’t have wanted us wasting our time…”

  “Ruby was an astute woman,” a soft, professional voice replied – Percy’s. “But I doubt even she would have been able to predict that a body would be found the day of the reading. She would’ve understood…”

  “Yes, a body part. Not a body. A part. And by who? Eh? By that meddling niece of her’s, that’s who? She knew Ruby was going to give me the house so now she wants to interfere…”

  It was Don’s turn to speak. “I’m not sure how you could possibly know that, Milton, considering the only people who know what is in that will are myself and Percy here.”

  “Yeh… And you’re keeping that to yourself, aren’t you? You know I already know, so why not tell me what I already know, you know?”

  “No,” came the blunt reply. “It must be done properly.”

  “I bet that’s why you were so keen to get Clara here. Make sure she went for a stroll, find the body, ruin my day…”

  I felt a pulse of anger shoot through my body. It subsided quickly as Ida May, who was observant and empathic by nature, placed a calming hand on my shoulder. She gave me a small smile and a wink, and – for some reason – that seemed to make everything better.

  There was a brief pause on the other side of the door and, when Don spoke again, it was clear that he was close to exploding with fury.

  “Are you suggesting I had something to do with it?”

  “Why not? You are a master of misdirection aren’t you? Very good at getting people to right place at the right time… or out of the way at the right time.”

  “You take that back!”

  “Gentlemen, please, this isn’t helping…”

  “Shut it, Percy. Don’t think I don’t know you had a part in this as well. You with your snake talk all these years. You think I didn’t notice?”

  “Milton!”

  “You two are as thick as thieves…”

  I’d had enough. I placed a firm hand on the door and pushed it open.

  The next room was decorated with a large scattering of antiques, ranging from ornamental vases to great hunting prints that hung above the mantelpiece of a roaring fireplace. As I entered the room, Milton had his back to me whilst Don, who had obviously been leaning against the mantelpiece before, was now barely a foot away from him with his fist clenched. Percy – as calm and proper as ever – was sat in the armchair in the corner, watching the unfolding events with his hands pressed firmly together and one leg swung casually over the other.

  On seeing me enter the room, whatever thought that was in Don’s mind seemed to vanish. His fist unclenched and he returned to his spot on the mantelpiece as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Milton, oblivious to my presence, quickly span around his wheelchair:

  “This is not the right moment to disturb…” His eyes widened with horror as they fell on me and Ida May. “Oh. Hello there, my dear. How are you coping?”

  I glared down at him for a moment. “I think you’d best leave, Milton. Cecil is waiting to take you and Percy back to the Senior Center.”

  “I don’t want to go back to the Senior Center…”

  “Home then,” chipped in Ida May. “The police want us out of here as soon as possible. We can rearrange the will reading for some other time. Ain’t that right, Percy?”

  Percy nodded. “That would be the right thing to do, I feel…”

  Milton looked as though he was ready to argue but a sharp look from Ida May convinced him otherwise. With a little grumbling and moaning he finally wheeled himself out of the room, followed by a grateful looking Percy, and – in five minutes or so – he’d been loaded into Cecil’s van and the three of them were gone.

  Despite out desire to get on, Don didn’t feel comfortable leaving the house unattended whilst the police
were still around. Long after Jasper had left, the last few forensic officers finally left and Don was finally able to lock up the building and drive us back into town.

  From the back of the car, I leaned forward and tapped on the soundproof glass that separated the three of us from Don. He pulled it open in an instant.

  “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

  “Just a question, if you don’t mind,” I replied.

  “Fire away.”

  “What did Don mean by you getting people out of the way at the right time?”

  There was a brief pause: “Oh, you heard that?”

  “It was hard not to,” replied Ida May.

  “Well, I wouldn’t concern yourself with it, ma’am. Ancient History.”

  “Twenty year old ancient history?” asked Hazel, prompting a confused look from Ida May.

  “I’d rather not talk about it, ma’am. Brings back some bad memories.”

  That was that. As we arrived in town, I instructed Don to drop us off at the library. He seemed a little confused to start with, but seemed to accept it after Ida May fired off a quick story about needing to get hold of a book for the Senior Center Reading Group.

  It was only when we were inside the library that Ida May asked Hazel:

  “What is your fascination with twenty years?”

  “Four of diamonds.”

  Hazel was beginning to enjoy herself.

  The desk clerk at the library was a pretty young thing. Ida May said she reminded her of how she used to look when she was her age – it’s hard to tell whether the desk clerk considered that a compliment or an insult.

  “How can I help you ladies?” she asked, her voice blunt and emotionless.

  I cleared my throat. “We were looking into missing persons from the area.”

  The clerk blinked. “Right.”

  “They probably went missing some time in the last twenty years…”

  “More like twenty years ago,” chipped in Hazel.

  Ida May shook her head in despair, but didn’t say anything.

  The clerk looked curiously at us. “And?”

  “We were wondering if you had newspapers from that far back?”

  She thought for a moment, her eyes scanning between the three of us before finally settling on Hazel. “We have microfilms, but you might find it quicker to just Google it.”

  “Google It?” repeated Hazel. “What is a Google It?”

  “Google,” replied Ida May. “A search engine.”

  “Oh,” Hazel whispered, turning back towards the receptionist. “No, dear. I don’t think we can be that specific.”

  The clerk narrowed her eyes on Hazel. “What do you mean?”

  Hazel smiled. “I mean, I don’t think the person went missing on the railways, so I don’t think searching the tracks would help. Besides, we’ve already found him down a well…”

  If the clerk wasn’t confused before, she was confused now. To avoid any further problems, I quickly directed Hazel away from the desk and walked her a few feet away whilst Ida May finished up. A few minutes later, Ida May whistled for us to come join her as she headed through a side door.

  “There’s a microfilm reader through here. She’s told me where to find the newspaper archives.”

  “Good job. You and Hazel have a look through. Start twenty years ago and work your way towards the present.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I flashed a smile to the pair of them. “I’m going to have a chat with Jasper. See if I can get anything out of him.”

  “Careful,” Ida May muttered. “Police don’t like people poking their noses in to their cases.”

  “Well I don’t like fishing severed hands out of wells. Maybe it’s just one of those days…”

  Chapter Si x– Newspapers and Post

  I had intended to go find Jasper at the police station, assuming that – even if he wasn’t there – some kind deputy might be able to point me in his direction, or else reveal a thing or two about the case. As it was, I didn’t have to bother.

  As I headed off in the direction of the station, something – and don’t ask me what it was – caused me to change my path and take a minor detour past the Senior Center. Maybe there was something that Milton, Cecil or Percy had said that prompted me to do it, or maybe I was still feeling a lingering anger for Milton after what he’d said earlier. I wasn’t sure at the time. And I’m not sure I am now either.

  As it happened, this timely act of intuition led me right into the path of Jasper who, as I began walking up the steps towards the front door, appeared from inside, jotting something hurriedly in his notebook.

  “Jasper…”

  “Oh,” he seemed rather startled to have seen me. “Hello there.”

  “Plugging away at the case?”

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yes, I rather think I am.”

  “Made any breakthroughs?”

  He paused for a moment, pocketing his notebook and staring at me for a long time. “I know it was a bit of a shock for you, but you really must try to put it out of your mind.”

  “Put what out of my mind?”

  “The body,” he replied. “I know it’s hard to discover half a man’s body, but you really should try not to dwell…”

  “So, you found more pieces? It wasn’t just the hand?”

  A wave of disappointment past over Jasper’s face. He took a step backwards and slowly leaned up against the wall next to the door, folding his arms and lowering his head as his keen eyes locked on to mine.

  “I can’t discuss an active case.”

  “It must have been murder then,” I continued, ignoring his icy stare. “What happened to the rest of the body, I wonder?”

  “Clara, I cannot discuss this with you…”

  He turned to walk away, heading down the steps towards a black car parked nearby.

  “I wonder how your father would react to you being so disrespectful.”

  He paused, turned slowly and stared back up at me, a small smile moving across his face.

  “I am my own man, and I am doing my duty. If anyone understands that, it is my father…”

  I shrugged. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

  He laughed – a small part of me suspected that he was glad that someone else was taking an interest, and yet another thought his professionalism and duty to his work would always override any desire to request unofficial help. I can’t say I blamed him. At the moment I was little more than a witness to him – I had already given him everything I had to offer and had little more to whet his appetite. Still, he was respectful and, as he tipped an imaginary hat and headed towards his car, I wondered how often our paths might cross.

  I headed into the Senior Center to be greeted by the somewhat surprised expression of Mary – the center manager.

  “Clara? I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

  It’s true – I never visited the Center on a Monday. Usually I was out playing bridge with the girls or Daphne would come down to visit. In fact, had it not been for Aunt Ruby’s will reading, I might have been out with Daphne right now – she’d offered to come along, but I figured Ida May and Hazel would be company enough. Besides, Aunt Ruby never did like Daphne much.

  “Can’t a girl mix it up a little every once in a while?”

  Mary let out a small, slightly disconcerted smile.

  “Of course. I’m afraid Ida May and Hazel aren’t here today…”

  “I know. But I’m wondering if someone else is.”

  “Oh? Who?”

  I gave Milton, Cecil and Percy’s names.

  “Cecil’s in. He came in about an hour ago – looked a bit sullen if you ask me.”

  “Where can I find him?”

  Mary told me and I quickly made way down the corridor to the far end where the workshop was located. Sure enough, I found Cecil sat at a bench at the far side of the room, still whittling away at the same piece of wood he’d had earlier.

  “Do
you like it?” he asked, holding it up for me to look at. “It’ll be a flute when it’s finished.”

  It did look a little like a flute, but only a little. It was a bit too small and probably only had enough holes for a single hand to play it, but it was definitely coming along nonetheless. I told him I liked it and watched as he set it down proudly, wiped the sawdust from his hand and led me across to the small kitchen.

  “Tea?”

  “Coffee.”

  “Ah,” he said. “One of those, are you? I – myself – prefer green tea. Started drinking it in ‘Nam. Never looked back.”

  He poured my coffee and we both settled down at a nearby workbench.

  “When were you in Vietnam?”

  “Oh, now let me see,” he said, pretending that he had to think hard to remember back that far. “It would’ve been sixty-eight to sixty-nine. I arrived shortly after Tet.”

  “And after the war? What did you do then?”

  “You do ask a lot of questions – just like my boy.”

  I didn’t reply - I just drank my coffee.

  “I travelled around a bit, settled down here with Jasper’s mother. But I never really fitted in, if you catch my drift. I always felt like I should just be out there, exploring the world, seeing what it has to offer.” He took a sip of tea. “Playing with the pixies and all that…”

  “And Jasper’s mother? Is she dead?”

  “Her? No, she’s very much alive. Living it up in Vegas or Kansas or some place with her rich husband Number Two. She never took too kindly to my lifestyle – think she thought she was above it, truth be told.”

  “But Jasper stayed with you?”

  Cecil shook his head.

  “Hell, no. Jasper is a loyal kid, but he’s got his head screwed on tight. He realized he liked it here so, when I left and his mother hightailed it out as well, he just kinda stuck around. Worked out well for him though.”

  I nodded and took another sip of my coffee. “But you came back here, eventually I mean?”