Delphiniums and Deception Read online

  “I bet he wouldn’t have felt the same way if he’d got the promotion.”

  I smiled at Fergus’ loyalty. “You’re right, but that doesn’t excuse my own actions. Looking back, I’m not even sure why I was so focused on it. I like chemistry and I’m ambitious, but what was it all for? I was always going to be another cog in the machine. It’s different now. It’s my own business and I can see the impact I have on people’s lives. Flowers equal happiness. I’m not saying that my chemistry work was useless, but it’s nice to not be so removed from the impact you have on the world. And it’s nice to choose exactly what impact that is,” I said, remembering the fertilisers I’d spent so long analysing and helping to formulate. At the time, it had simply been chemicals mixing together to get a desired result. Now I looked at the potential environmental implications with horror. I knew firsthand what poisoned soil could do to plants and, if you asked Fergus about it, to people, too.

  In the end, I knew I would be thanking George for opening my eyes to the truth. It had been hard when I’d left my job in London and settled for a more rural laboratory - all to get away from him and the woman he’d clearly been able to focus on at the same time as both his work and his relationship with me. When I’d started growing flowers and had realised it was something I loved doing - the first thing I’d really loved - it had changed everything. Without George breaking up with me, I wasn’t sure I’d have ever found the courage or the drive to make the change. “I’m just not ready for someone else. I still have a lot to do,” I said, condensing my feelings into two sentences.

  Fergus nodded. “I get it. When you need someone they’ll be there. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It seems to be going great!”

  “Apart from the murders,” I muttered.

  Fergus shrugged. “You seem to handle those pretty well, too.”

  I shook my head, I didn’t want to have to handle anything like that, but trouble did seem to have a way of finding me. “Not Christine. I’m just not sure…” I said, faltering. My thoughts were still moving around. I had an idea or two, and I thought I’d uncovered the motive, but there were still too many moving pieces. I needed to have them all in place if I wanted to get the killer to confess. As soon as we were out of the bunker, I was sure that there’d never be any headway made into the case. We would all be investigated and asked for our eyewitness accounts, and the jumbled story would obscure the truth. It was just as the killer had intended.

  “Hey! There it is again!” Fergus pointed up to the night sky where something was indeed flashing. “How do you explain that, eh?” he said, voice filled with triumph.

  “There are any number of explanations for that phenomena. Satellites, aircraft, disturbances in the atmosphere creating the illusion of flashing. There could also be marsh gas causing unusual lights in the sky.”

  Fergus spluttered. “Marsh gas! You’ll consider marsh gas but not the possibility that there are aliens out there? Real aliens, who are signalling to us here down on earth? Doesn’t it make you feel tiny?”

  I opened my mouth to resume the debate but shut it again. Instead, we stood in the darkness watching the distant blinking light and I reflected that, whatever it was, it did make one feel small when you thought about space and everything it contained.

  Even when we felt that our struggles were too much for us to cope with, the universe was a big enough place to hold everyone’s problems and carry on - just the same as it always had. It was certainly something that the person responsible for the death of Christine Montague should have considered before delivering their revenge.

  10

  Poison and Punishment

  The next morning Fergus woke up looking none the worse for our late night stargazing session. I rolled out of bed looking exactly like I’d had about two hours of sleep over the past two nights - which was fairly close to the truth. My auburn hair was lank. I was glad I’d got rid of Rich the previous day because I sincerely doubted he’d have wanted to pursue me today. I glanced at the time on the little alarm clock and sighed. Twelve more hours and we would be out of here. Would the identity of the killer escape with us? I’d decided last night it wasn’t going to happen. I was going to figure out the truth - the whole truth. Someone needed to answer for Christine’s death. I was hoping that today would be the day that the killer let their act slip.

  We ate our breakfast in a subdued sort of quiet. Today we wouldn’t be late for our challenges and I knew that most of us would be grateful when they were over. All the same, I couldn’t help thinking that we’d been brought together, a group of people who didn't have much in common other than an interest (Fergus excepted) in flower arranging. I couldn’t shake the feeling that, were it not for the suspicion the murder had sown among us, we might have ended with fond memories. Perhaps we’d even have found friendship. I had a sneaking suspicion that the course designer had wanted it that way. No matter what little you might have in common with your course mates, being put through situations that required you to work as a team and succeed as a team drew you together. It was part of our human condition.

  Jack led us off to the first room to begin the day’s challenges. As we were walking down a long corridor with a light at the end, I reflected on the master-key that had been found in Sylvia’s room. Did I still think it was plausible that one of our guides was involved in the murder? Even if I decided to believe their claims that the key set was stolen, it would imply that someone had prior knowledge about where that key set would be left, perhaps intentionally... No matter what the truth was, I was certain that the dropped keys had been a mistake. They weren’t left to frame the guides, who had otherwise been left out of being framed. I was sure that the keys were an important factor in figuring out the truth of what happened to Christine Montague.

  I was still mulling over everything I knew when the corridor ended and I found myself in a beautiful greenhouse. It took me by surprise. The bunker was many-faceted. This area of the concrete structure was somewhere I hadn’t viewed, either from the front or the side. Upon further observation, it became clear why. We were surrounded on all sides, but the light shone down from above and bounced off the bright white concrete walls, that had clearly been painted to encourage sun into the greenhouse. The greenhouse itself was remarkable. The glass looked old and there were decorative curls of hand-hammered metal all over the interior. I wasn’t exactly a greenhouse expert, considering that my own ‘greenhouses’ were just hastily thrown together polytunnels. But I knew that this place was something old enough to be victorian. Put simply - greenhouses simply weren't made this way anymore. I spared a thought to wonder what had come first - the greenhouse or the bunker - and then I spared another several thoughts to wonder just why there was a greenhouse at the centre of a military bunker.

  Fergus sidled up to me. I somehow knew that he was going to give me an answer. Probably not the right one, but an answer all the same. “This is curious, isn’t it? Almost as if it were built to house and examine life forms brought to the earth by alien vessels.”

  “It might also have been utilised to test plants for possible military applications,” I suggested.

  Fergus looked at me with his mouth hanging open. “Did you just suggest a conspiracy theory?”

  I blinked at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “But!” Fergus tried to say, but I shushed him when the screen rolled down from the ceiling and Emilia appeared.

  “Good morning everyone! I trust all ten of you and your helpful guides slept well?” A wince travelled around the group as everyone was reminded our number had diminished. “Today, we are gathered in the orangery - a remarkable greenhouse that dates back before the erection of Fennering Bunker. When the land was purchased by the government with the intention of creating a military facility it was a condition of the planning permission that the greenhouse was preserved. What you see here is that preservation in practice. In many ways, the bunker has shielded the greenhouse from deterioration
by protecting it from the elements with its concrete walls. The angles of the surrounding walls and their reflective paint have always ensured that the orangery remains filled with light and the plants within flourish. Since the military moved on and the site became privately owned so many years ago, the greenhouse has sadly remained empty for the most part. This course has returned it to its former glory. If you look around, you will see a plethora of plants and flowers. The sharp-eyed amongst you will probably have noted that not all of the plants here are native to Britain, and there are some which are flowering out of season.” She nodded understandingly. “I know yesterday we focused on the merits of seasonality and the wonderful variety our native country has to offer when it comes to flower choice, but there are also merits to greenhouses. To give an example, British blooms aren’t known for their dazzling brilliance in the winter months, but many varieties of orchids will do very well in the greenhouse and give you a focal point for a winter arrangement. That brings us nicely onto today’s challenges, the theme for which is sculpture. You have one hour to pick some appropriate flower choices and make a sculptural arrangement suited to a high-class event, or one that would make a simply stunning home centrepiece. Examples will be left on the screen. As always, place your finished arrangements on the table for judging. Good luck!”

  “They always start the first challenge so nicely, don’t they?” Lady Isabella commented out loud before sweeping off to peruse a row of indoor lilies.

  “Was it just me, or did she hesitate after she said today’s theme would be ‘sculpture’?” I asked Fergus out of the corner of my mouth.

  “Look who’s being paranoid now,” was all he said in response, before mincing off with his choice of vase. I noted, with some surprise, that he hadn’t picked a horrible one.

  I walked around the greenhouse, taking in the beautiful gerberas and the striking greenery. The first challenge of the day was always the easiest. I found myself relaxing as I inspected a row of slipper orchids.

  “Lovely, aren't they?” Sylvia said, looking up at me. “I do think it’s a little wasteful for us to cut them though. Some of these orchids look very fancy to me. But… I am certainly not an orchid expert.” She smiled and I smiled back at the woman who’d found a blood-covered weapon in her knitting bag and had quite literally written the book on poisonous plants.

  “Don’t worry about them. They’re easy as pie to grow, if you treat them nicely. Even the supermarkets sell them. A lot of these orchids were brought over from India back when colonisation was all the rage.” Eamon raised his eyebrows a little. “There were a lot of new plants that brightened up the aristocracy’s gardens in those days. I’ll bet that’s why the course organiser put these orchids in here as a nod to when the greenhouse was first in use. That there is an aeride - more commonly known as a fox brush orchid.”

  “I had no idea,” I humbly confessed. Most of my own flower growing used native plants because it… well… it felt more British! However, my mind was being opened to these more exotic varieties. Especially when they grew so well and weren’t actually imported.

  “Well, it’s my area of speciality! Asian plants and all that, you know. I lecture on it. It’s amazing what we all tend to take for granted without realising the actual origins. Did you know tea plants were brought over from India and went on to flourish in Britain? Camellia sinensis, that is - not assamica.”

  “I did,” I confessed, having had to look that one up myself when I’d been left a pair of tea trees to care for after Jim Holmes had died.

  “Oh. Well there you go then,” Eamon said, the wind taken out of his sails. “You folks need to get started on your arrangements. An hour isn’t long, and you know what tends to happen when our work doesn’t come up to scratch.” He made some harrumphing noises and then wandered off again.

  I reached out and snipped a particularly beautiful orchid, hoping that Eamon was right about them being common and not too tricky to grow. All I knew about orchids was that they were fickle creatures and those that were truly challenging to grow could be very expensive. And if you were fool enough to buy them they’d definitely die on you. Every time someone brought me one of those supermarket orchids I always felt a stab of panic, knowing it was already living on borrowed time. I may be good at growing flowers outside, but houseplants were a different matter.

  Still… whilst I wasn’t holding out any hope of ever being able to grow orchids, perhaps I could find some inspiration in this greenhouse and transfer it to some cut flower choices of my own. I took my time, selecting a few brightly coloured orchids before moving on to some beautiful peace lilies that were in full bloom.

  “You’d be amazed how many houseplants are poisonous.” Sylvia had dogged my footsteps ever since we’d been approached by Eamon.

  “Oh?” I said, wondering if this was leading somewhere. Somewhere like a confession.

  “That peace lily is a good example. The sap can irritate your skin, so watch out. Also, there’s that innocuous little shrub over there, the Jerusalem Cherry. People buy it to add a little pop of colour in the winter when it fruits. I’m sure you’ll have seen it in garden centres. The problem is, the fruit is poisonous. Cats, dogs, and children have all made the mistake of trying the inviting looking fruit. Fortunately, although it is a relative of deadly nightshade, it’s not one of the really nasty ones. So long as treatment is given in time and the symptoms are recovered from, most people are just fine in a few days.” She smiled brightly at me.

  I silently made a note to check all houseplants gifts people thoughtfully bought for me in the future with great care. Diggory wasn't exactly discerning when it came to what he ate, and I’d never forgive myself if my dog was poisoned because of me.

  We found the men gathered around a whole section of greenery.

  “I cannot wait to get a takeaway as soon as we’re out of here,” Rich was saying to Fergus, who nodded ardently in agreement.

  “Diana! Come on over here and smell this. Tell me what it reminds you of,” Fergus said holding out a leaf-covered stem.

  “It’s a curry plant,” I said, guessing based on the takeaway remarks and the fact that Eamon had already mentioned the greenhouse was full of plants with asian origins.

  Fergus pouted. “Show off. Do you think you can grow me some? Homemade is always best when one is trying to watch one’s figure.” He patted his belly and looked sideways at the very in-shape Rich.

  “Of course,” I said, knowing Fergus didn’t mean a word of it. I looked down at the vase he held in his hand and felt my eyebrows shoot up. “That looks like it’s ready to be judged!”

  “Yours isn’t too shabby either,” Fergus said, giving me a friendly nudge. “Shall we?”

  I smiled at him and together we walked over to the judging table both, for a moment, forgetting what we were caught up in the midst of. I hope that when I looked back on this crazy course I’d gone on with Fergus this would be the memory that jumped out at me. This and gazing at distant flashing stars.

  It just went to show that even in the face of something terrible, there was always something good to be found, if you were willing to open your eyes to it.

  We placed down our arrangements and Emilia appeared on screen congratulating us both for passing the challenge.

  “Look at that! No smashed vases today. Plus, yours has fruit on it! That is a nice touch,” he reached out to pluck an early-fruiting Jerusalem Cherry.

  “Don’t be stupid,” I said, slapping his hand down. “Honestly, if I weren’t around, you’d have poisoned yourself several times over. You’re lucky I bothered to learn about edible plants.” The smile slid off my face.

  “What? What is it?” Fergus asked, his face creasing with concern.

  “I know the answer. I know who was responsible for Christine’s murder, and I think I have a good idea of why they killed her.”

  Right behind us there were more sounds of cheerfulness as everyone was congratulated on their finished arrangements. A buzzer so
unded and the greenhouse door slid open.

  I walked through, my mind heavy with the knowledge that I knew the identity of the killer.

  “Well, who the heck is it?” Fergus hissed in my ear.

  The door slid shut behind us. I ignored him. In my head, I was going over and over the possibilities, double checking and triple checking. But there could be no mistake. I was right.

  A screen slid down and this time Damien greeted us on-screen. “Well done! It is my pleasure to introduce the penultimate challenge to you. I’m sure you’re terribly disappointed that there are only three challenges on our final day…” He paused, presumably to let any predicted bitter laughter subside. “However, these final two challenges will combine all that you have learned and use teamwork to succeed, thus finishing as we started - together. Out in the world beyond these walls, there will always be competition, but in here, you have learned the value of shared knowledge and cooperation.”

  I noticed there was a certain amount of eye-rolling travelling around the room. What were we, children who needed our hands held? Although… children seldom run round killing people, I silently amended.

  “This penultimate challenge is one I hope you will find fascinating. It takes the importance of having good taste that we covered on day one and combines it with seasonality, reflected in the abundance of the flowers you have to choose between, and then, finally, we will be using these skills to create sculptural forms.” There was a quiet whirring sound as several strangely shaped pieces of florist’s oasis rose up into view. “Your challenge is to produce ten funeral wreaths,” Damien announced with a lot of exuberance.

  I looked at the row of green foam and felt something twist in my stomach. It was certainly morbid to be making funeral wreaths when one of our number had so recently died. Especially when I knew her killer was right here among us.