A Memory for Murder Mystery Page 11

  They're all gone, she says. Her daughter Molly and her ill husband, Art, even their son, Matthew, have disappeared. According to Mrs Kendal, she rose at her usual time and walked down to the house for breakfast, as was her custom. She had expected the whole family to be present, even Matthew, who had apparently claimed to have been suffering from a bug the previous day. Mrs Kendal explains he’d taken a gap year before the family moved down to Sussex and was only in his second year of university. However, he seemed to spend more time out than in the university, mostly complaining of missing his girlfriend, Rosalie. But Matthew had not been anywhere in the barn that morning.

  Fiona Kendal knocks on the front door in the morning. She usually uses the side door, which is always left open for her - apparently, the farm is so far down the track, few people even know it exists, and the Abraham family have never advertised their intentions beyond asking for planning permission for the zoo - but she doesn’t want to use the side door this time because of the concrete that was laid yesterday evening for a new parking space. When no one answers the front door, she tiptoes around the concrete and lets herself in the usual way.

  Once she’s inside, she is aware that the barn is silent. There are no lights, and no sound of conversation or breakfast being prepared as there usually are. She steps inside the house, calling out to her family. When no one answers, she starts to grow worried, walking through the house and shouting up the stairs, calling for her daughter. Where is Art, her son-in-law? Has something happened to him? She momentarily laments her decision to not have a mobile phone. Perhaps the family have had to take him into the hospital as his health has worsened during the cold January weather.

  She decides that must be it and walks into the kitchen to look for Molly’s diary. She finds the diary on the kitchen counter and notices that all of the dishes are put away and that there is nothing in the oven or out on the table. But then - that would make sense if they’d all had to rush to hospital. She finds Molly’s mobile number in her diary and uses the house phone to call. The phone doesn't ring and instead she is met with a voicemail message. This causes some concern but she reassures herself that perhaps her daughter hasn’t had time to charge her phone. She tries Matthews phone number, too, but it also goes straight to voicemail. That worries her more. Her grandson is never without his phone!

  With concern still growing, she walks through the house and down into the garage. She’s not a driver herself, but even she can see that both the family car and the LandRover they use on the farm are still there.

  Feeling bewildered, she walks back through the house and out of the automatically locking front door, still determined to avoid the concrete parking space. She wonders if Art could have been so bad they took the whole family away in an ambulance. Or perhaps there was a terrible accident? The barn has its own access road, so she might not have seen or heard anything if they’d turned the siren off.

  Mrs Kendal goes back to wait inside the barn, trying to convince herself that her family are fine and have just forgotten her in the heat of the moment. After some hours pass, she gives in and calls the police to report her family missing.

  I finished reading and sat back in the leather sofa before picking up my coffee. There was nothing like a good cup of coffee to help you think things over.

  “You’ve finished it already?” Derek asked and I nodded. “I also spoke to the guy who did the concrete… Cedric Jameson. That was before he set up his company, of course. I think they had a few setbacks last year.” He shrugged. “I never did manage to catch that story. Anyway, Mrs Kendal just happened to let slip his name and I just happened to call him up to do some work on my patio later that day, and he told me all about it.”

  Cedric Jameson… the name sounded familiar to me, but I wasn’t sure why. I would have to think on it.

  “I wonder whatever happened to Fiona Kendal? I assume she went back to Wales? It was clear from the reactions of the locals when it all happened that the Abrahams had never exactly tried to fit in here.” Derek tilted his head. “It makes you wonder why they thought their zoo would be such a hit.”

  “Fiona actually still lives nearby. I’ve already been to see her,” I said - a little smugly, if truth be told.

  “She saw you? After she spoke to me she clammed right up and wouldn’t speak to anyone about what happened. I wonder why she stayed down here when her family are all gone?”

  “I think she’s waiting for them to turn up,” I confided.

  We both thought a while about how terribly grim that was.

  “You know, maybe the zoo was the last wish of a dying man. Maybe that’s why they put in for that planning permission and undertook the whole barmy project. Even if they hadn’t disappeared, Art would be dead by now.”

  I frowned. “Really?”

  Derek nodded. “That’s why Mrs Kendal assumed they’d gone to hospital. Art was practically at death's door. His cancer was terminal.”

  10

  The Comic-writing Goddess

  “That’s terrible,” I said, wondering how I’d managed to miss that in my research. I’d known Arthur was suffering from the nasty disease but I’d wrongly assumed that he’d been on his way to recovery.

  “It was the thing that hit me most that day. A friend on the police force let me walk through the house to make observations. In the Abrahams’ bedroom there was a hook with a hat on it. According to Mrs Kendal, Art had two hats. He’d wear a baseball cap around the house and a porkpie hat for going out. The one left on the hook was the porkpie.”

  “That poor man,” I said.

  Derek nodded. “It hardly made their disappearance look any less suspicious - Art leaving his going-out hat behind. It didn’t look to me as though wherever they went they were given much choice.” He sighed. “I remember the beds were all made, too.”

  “They got up, made their beds, and then vanished?”

  “Unless they went missing the night before, but Mrs kendal reported saying goodnight to them at around nine o’clock. She apparently wanted to go to bed because it had been a busy day of cooking and cleaning. Molly was busy sorting out the zoo. Art was in no shape to do much at all, so all of that fell to Mrs Kendal.”

  “Is that why she lived in the cottage, so she could help out when Art got worse?”

  Derek shrugged. “I assume so. I never actually met the family prior to their disappearance. The few people who did said they were nice folk. Quiet and kept to themselves, probably because of the great trauma they were going through. Molly was known at the village store and they liked her. She was a real tough gal, you know? Even if Art had been a healthier man, she’d probably have spent far more time sawing through hunks of timber than putting on a load of washing.”

  “What about Matthew?” I asked.

  “I don’t know much about him. University is what you make it,” Derek said, and I didn’t miss the wistful grin on his face. “People who keep to themselves are left alone. I guess Matthew was one of them. The little I did learn about him - mostly from Cedric - was that he seemed pretty hung up on his girlfriend. Maybe they were one of those couples who believe that all they need in the world is each other.”

  “Hmmm,” I said unwilling to comment on that.

  “Well, I think that just about covers it. Are you ready to give me an exclusive?” Derek asked with a sparkle in his eye that let me know he was jumping into full reporter mode.

  I replied that I was ready, but inside, I reminded myself to be very careful indeed. I’d just read through an account that demonstrated how thorough a reporter Derek Hurst was. I definitely didn’t want to be described as a grumpy midget with frizzy flyaway hair - no matter how close to the truth it may be. I also knew he picked up on nuances. That was another thing I’d need to watch, especially when I’d already agreed not to sue him.

  In spite of my attempts to look relaxed and confident, my doubts must have shown through. It was the curse of having an honest face.

  “As our deal is a littl
e bit of a leap of faith on both our parts, how about I send you the final version before it gets printed?”

  I felt my face relax into a smile as my fears were allayed. “That sounds perfect.” Hopefully now he'd be more able to describe me as a small, but perfectly formed, comic-writing goddess. A girl could dream, right?

  “So, Madi… what was the initial inspiration for Monday’s Menagerie?” he asked and then we were away, lost in a discussion of my little hobby, which was turning into something much, much bigger.

  It was only when I got home that evening and had fed both Lucky and myself (from different cans) that I realised I’d never asked Derek Hurst much about the police’s search of the property. I bit my lip and realised I would have to see if anyone on the police force would talk to me after all. Whispering a silent prayer of hope, I sent a cautiously polite text to Officer Kelly asking if she would mind bringing up the details of the Abraham case (which was surely classified as stone cold by now) and filling me in. To my surprise, I received a phone call from her a minute later.

  “What would you like to know?” she asked, sounding pretty happy to hear from me.

  “I just want to know the details of the searches that were carried out,” I told her, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “That would be my pleasure. You saved our station from looking majorly stupid when those con artists came to town. If we’d let them get away with it we’d be the laughing stock of every county’s force. So, thanks a million!”

  “No problem,” I said, trying not to think too hard about the couple who’d tried to force me to eat rat poison in what was supposed to look like suicide and an admission of my guilt in the murder of another colleague. Fortunately, it hadn’t gone to plan.

  “Okay, details of the search… coming right up.”

  I waited a few moments while Officer Kelly did some typing.

  “It says that the police did a full and thorough search of the barn conversion and found no signs of the occupants or recent changes to the building…” Well, there went my bricking up theory! “…they checked for any signs of violence but found none. No traces of blood anywhere. The mattresses were slit and checked, the cars were taken apart… you name it. If there was a hiding place for a body in that building, they’d have found it.”

  I privately thought that couldn’t be entirely true. Otherwise they’d have found the toy lion.

  “The farm cottage was also thoroughly searched. All local train, bus, taxi stations and firms were notified but no one reported seeing any signs of a group of people resembling the Abraham family. Oh, and a full ground search was carried out across the entirety of the land owned by the family.”

  “Just the land owned by the family?” I clarified.

  “Yes, even back then, it looks like police resources were pretty stretched. The absence of signs of a struggle didn’t help matters. Violence makes the police far more likely to act. The officers on this case weren’t even sure if there were bodies to find. Huh!” Officer Kelly suddenly exclaimed.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, it’s just that Detective Treesden worked on this case back when he was just a lowly police officer. His name is listed here in the notes. Hmmm, it also says that an aerial search was requested but never carried out due to budget constraints. Again, that will have been because there was nothing to suggest that the missing family had actually been harmed in any way - beyond mysteriously going missing.” Officer Kelly sighed. “Nice to see how some things never change.”

  We both took a moment to lament the state of national affairs - as British people like to do - before I thanked her for her help and wished her goodbye.

  I thought back over our conversation and wondered if I’d learned anything at all from it. The only thing I could pick up on was there being no evidence to suggest that anyone had interfered with the barn conversion itself and that the aerial search Katya had enquired about had never been done. But then, why would it have been? As much as people liked to criticise the police force for not doing absolutely everything in their power to solve a case, I could understand why the search hadn’t been a priority.

  The Abrahams had only just gone missing and there’d been no evidence, beyond the strangeness of their decision, to suggest that their disappearance hadn’t been entirely consensual.

  Looking back seven years later, the picture was somewhat changed.

  11

  Quid Pro Quo

  I gave myself the next day off. It was supposed to be a day of keeping up with the comics and replying to all of the fan emails that were currently overloading my inbox. The thought of all those messages sitting there unanswered was a daunting one, so my first task of the day was to hire a virtual assistant to deal with that. I knew it was a bit impersonal, but I hoped that readers of the comics would agree that it was better I spent my time drawing more than responding to thousands upon thousands of emails.

  They might have been less pleased to know that, in spite of my plans, I didn’t actually end up doing much drawing. Instead, I found myself at the head office of Jameson Contractors wondering what I was doing there.

  Visiting Cedric Jameson was a task I’d been putting off for as long as possible ever since I realised why I’d recognised his name. It was because Jameson Contractors were the company that Rich and his horrible cronies (a group of builders who’d once worked at Avery Zoo) had been employed by. Lowell had also worked for them when he’d been acting undercover for Mr Avery Senior. Or at least, that’s what he’d said he was doing, I mentally amended, unwilling to trust anything Lowell had told me as being fact anymore.

  Even though Rich and the rest of the gang had been murderous, law-breaking fiends, I didn’t expect to receive a warm welcome at Jameson Contractors. My greatest hope was not to be recognised, but I should have known better. After all, hadn’t I just given an exclusive interview to the local paper? And with a distinct lack of celebrities living nearby, I was apparently the only hot gossip around.

  “You’re the one who writes comics, aren’t you?” Cedric greeted me before his expression clouded. I could tell he also knew that I was the one who’d got his builders arrested and his company dropped from any future Avery Zoo contracts.

  But perhaps that could be changed…

  “I was wondering if you had a moment to discuss what you saw the day you went to pour the concrete for the parking space at the Abraham Farm?”

  His yellowing eyebrows sunk down over his eyes. “No.”

  Well, at least he’s honest. It was time I played the ace I had up my sleeve.

  “I’m actually here for another reason, as well,” I lied. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Avery Zoo are about to have a lot of work done on the restaurant. Just between us, the zoo is also considering adding a large extension, and I know Auryn is looking for quotes.”

  “Auryn?” Cedric asked.

  I smiled inwardly. I’d dangled the bait and he’d swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker.

  “Auryn Avery, the current owner of Avery Zoo. I forgot, a lot has changed since your company last worked at the zoo. There’s someone completely new in charge. He’s my boyfriend, actually,” I said, wondering if that was too much.

  “How nice for you,” the man across the desk said, not meaning it in the slightest.

  I pasted on a happy smile. “Thank you! It’s nice to have a relationship that’s both personal and business. We make so many of the big decisions regarding the zoo together. It’s a lot of work, but I’m sure you know how tough working is. You’ve got to take every opportunity you’re given, am I right?” Okay, I was definitely overdoing it, but I was starting to realise that I really needed to spell it out for the man opposite me.

  His brow furrowed and un-furrowed. “You said this guy, Orange, is looking for quotes for work?”

  “Yes he is!” I didn’t bother to correct the name. “I know he’d be far happier working with a company that knows the zoo and understands what Avery is all abou
t. Someone with past experience,” I added, just in case I wasn’t making myself clear.

  “What about the other group you hired? Reynolds?”

  “They’re busy sorting out the offices that sustained fire damage over the Christmas period. But, it seems to be taking quite a long time. They were unwilling to come as soon as Auryn would have liked,” I confided.

  Cedric nodded as thoughtfully as I thought he was able. I really hoped this was a man who knew more about brick and mortar than conversation or my half-promises were going to backfire in a big way. I reassured myself that I hadn’t actually promised him anything beyond Auryn being willing to look at a quote from his company and me potentially putting in a good word… if he helped me. Quid pro quo, I repeated in my head, remembering the reporter’s words.

  “I would be interested in having a look and passing on a quote. Could you let Mr Avery know?” the builder asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure that wouldn’t be any problem at all. While we’re chatting about business, I was just wondering if you could tell me about putting down concrete for car parking spaces. I’m very interested in one project you worked on in particular.” I gazed into Jameson’s bloodshot eyes and watched the internal conflict that went on in there. I knew the builder didn’t like me, but at the same time, I was offering him a chance to get back the contract his firm had lost, and he knew from past experience how much those jobs were worth.

  “You never know, Avery Zoo might want a few extra car parking spaces of their own. Most days, it’s tough to fit all of the cars in the car park because the zoo is so busy.”

  “Things are going well for the new Mr Avery are they?” Cedric asked. I had to blink to avoid rolling my eyes in front of him. All of my attempts at subtlety were sailing straight over his head. I’d probably have saved myself a lot of time if I’d merely walked in and said something like ‘Oi! I’m the well-respected girlfriend of zoo owner, Auryn Avery. The zoo is pulling in a lot of cash at the moment. I’ll tell Auryn to give you another chance if you tell me what you saw at the Abraham house.’ I settled for saying: “Yes, they’re going very well indeed. Lots of money,” I added, giving in.