“Do you have the letter with you?”

  “No, I’m afraid I left it on the desk in my office.”

  “Okay. If you could just wait there for a moment, I’ll see what I can find out.”

  She made a couple of phone calls.

  “It appears that the Works Department deal with all matters relating to signage. The man in charge is a Mr Arthur Carter.”

  “In that case, can I make an appointment to see Mr Carter?”

  “Actually, I’ve just spoken to him, and he said he’d be happy to spend a few minutes with you now.”

  “Excellent. Where do I find him?”

  “He’s on the fifth floor; in room 512.”

  “Thanks. Where are the lifts?”

  “They’re over there on the right, but I’m afraid they’re both out of order. We’re waiting for the maintenance man to come. The stairs are to your left.”

  “Right, thanks.”

  By the time I’d reached the fifth floor, I was struggling to catch my breath. I knocked on the door of room 512, and a female voice shouted, “Come in.”

  The young woman behind the desk had short punk-like hair. “Are you the lady to see Mr Carter?”

  “That’s right. About the signage.”

  “He’s through that door over there. You can go straight in.”

  Carter, a rotund, middle-aged man with a moustache and a hearing aid, sat behind a tiny desk, which looked rather lost in the spacious office.

  “Hello, young lady. I believe you have some questions regarding signage?”

  “Not so much a question as a complaint.”

  “I see. Please take a seat and I’ll see if I can help you.”

  “I’d prefer to stand if it’s all the same to you.”

  “As you wish.”

  “I’ve just received a letter from your department, and I have to say that I’m absolutely appalled. I can’t believe you would inflict these unnecessary costs on the businesspeople of Washbridge. What possible difference can it make to the city council what colour signage a private business displays? For example, my sign has black print on a white background. What’s wrong with that, I’d like to know?”

  He held up his hand. “If I could just interrupt you for a moment.”

  “No. Please allow me to finish. I’ve had all kinds of problems getting my new sign installed, and now you want me to take it down. And you have the cheek to say that if I don’t, I’ll be fined, and that you’ll continue to fine me every month until I comply.”

  “May I speak now?”

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, err—sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Jill Maxwell.”

  “I know nothing about this, Mrs Maxwell.”

  “Really? Well, that’s very strange because I received the letter this morning from this very department.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “I’m simply saying that no such letter has been sent out, and no such regulations have been introduced.”

  “Are you telling me that signs don’t have to be navy blue print on a white background?”

  “Not at all. They can be any colour you want them to be. In fact, providing the sign isn’t offensive, then it’s of no concern to us at all. Yours isn’t offensive, is it?”

  “Of course it isn’t. Are you sure about this, Mr Carter? Could someone else from another department have sent out the letter?”

  “I’m positive. I can assure you that any signage-related issue would be dealt with by this department.”

  What was going on? If the council hadn’t sent out the letter, then who had? It was at that precise moment that the penny dropped. I knew exactly where that letter had come from.

  “In that case, Mr Carter, I’m very sorry to have wasted your time.”

  “Not a problem. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No, that’s everything. Thank you very much for seeing me.”

  ***

  I had an appointment with Susan Brown who had worked at the drive-thru at the time of the murder. She lived in a small semi-detached house, which was next door to a funeral director.

  A woman in her fifties answered the door.

  “Hi, I’m here to see Susan Brown.”

  “Susan is my daughter. I’m Mary. You must be the private investigator lady.”

  “That’s right. Jill Maxwell.”

  “Susan’s just finished feeding little Charlie, but you can go through. It’s the first door on your left.”

  “Thanks very much.”

  Susan Brown was on the sofa, trying to wind the tiny little boy. Her hair was dishevelled, and she looked very tired.

  “Hi, I’m Susan.”

  “Thanks for seeing me. I realise this probably isn’t a great time. Is he your first?”

  “Yeah. Gorgeous, isn’t he?”

  I glanced at the ugly baby. “Yeah, he’s beautiful.”

  “I believe you’ve been hired by Arnold’s parents.”

  “That’s right. I’m hoping to prove that he’s innocent of Alison Reed’s murder. I understand from the manager of Wash Burgers that you are one of only a few people who were working at Burger Barn, as it was then, at the time of the murder.”

  “I’m probably the only one. When the original business closed, everyone was let go. By the time it was sold and reopened, most people had found other jobs. I hadn’t managed to get anything else, so I applied for my old job back. I didn’t really have any choice.”

  “Did you know Arnold Kramer well?”

  “Probably as well as anyone there knew him. I reckon he thought of me like an older sister who he could confide in. He’s a sweet lad who hadn’t had a girlfriend before Alison.”

  “Did you know her?”

  “Not really. I did see her with Arnold a few times, and to be honest, I tried to talk him out of the relationship.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but I saw the way she operated. Even when she was with him, she was always flirting with other guys behind his back. I got the impression that she wasn’t really into Arnold. He didn’t take any notice of me because he was totally smitten, and he wouldn’t hear a bad word about her. But then she dumped him.”

  “How did he take that?”

  “Not well at all. He went to a very dark place, and I was really worried about him for a while. I thought he might harm himself. I certainly didn’t expect him to hurt Alison.”

  “Did you think he was capable of doing something like that?”

  “Never. But then the evidence presented in court was pretty damning. I do hope they got it wrong and that you’re able to prove his innocence. It was a terrible affair, and it wasn’t just Arnold who was affected; it destroyed Mickey as well.”

  “Mickey? Sorry, who’s Mickey?”

  “Mickey Babcock. He owned the restaurant at the time of the murder. He’s a really nice guy who was very good with the staff. You could always talk to Mickey. After the murder, the bad publicity had a devastating effect on the business. It never recovered and he was eventually forced to close.”

  “Who bought it?”

  “A guy called Jason Bond who still owns it now. He’s the exact opposite to Mickey. Jason is a nasty piece of work. I hate working there now. I wish I didn’t have to go back but I need the money.”

  “This guy, Mickey. Do you happen to know where he is now?”

  “I don’t have an address for him, but I think he’s still living in Washbridge. I’ve bumped into him a few times; the last time I saw him, he looked as though he’d fallen on hard times. I feel really sorry for him. He didn’t deserve what happened.”

  “Were you on duty the night of the murder?”

  “No, it was my night off.”

  “Did Arnold often work on the window at the drive-thru?”

  “There was a rota. On average, I’d guess he was on there a couple of nights each week.”

  After leaving Susan Brown, I tried Karen Little’s number again, but there was still no answer, so I left yet another voicemail.

  Chapter 16

  I was headed back to the office when my phone rang. When I saw that it was Grandma, my heart sank. If that wart of hers was still playing up, she’d probably want me to apply more of that yucky lotion. I wasn’t sure I could face that, but there was no point in ignoring the call because she wouldn’t give up.

  “Yes, Grandma?”

  “Get down to Ever.”

  “Have you never heard of please and thank you?”

  “Straight away!” She hung up.

  That woman was so selfish. It never seemed to occur to her that anyone else might be busy. Everyone was expected to drop whatever it was they were doing and jump to attention.

  Still grumbling under my breath, I made my way down to Ever where I found her at her desk. Thankfully, the wart on her nose was back to its normal size, and it was no longer changing colour.

  “Your nose is looking much better, Grandma.”

  “And not before time. It was very embarrassing having to walk around with that beekeeper’s hat on my head. Which reminds me—” She reached down into her desk drawer. “Take it back for me, would you?”

  “Take it back where?”

  “Where do you think? Washbridge Beekeepers’ Supplies and Hire, obviously.”

  “Can’t you take it back?”

  “I would but my feet are giving me gyp. I don’t suppose you’d like to massage them, would you?”

  “No, definitely not. I’ll take the hat back so you can rest them.”

  “Make sure you get it back by Wednesday or I’ll have to pay for another week’s hire.”

  “Okay. I’m glad your nose is better, and that Rhonda came through for you.”

  “Hmph! The next time I see that woman, she’ll have some explaining to do.”

  “Why? She came up with the right potion in the end, didn’t she?”

  “That’s typical of you, Jill. You’re far too forgiving.”

  “Nobody could accuse you of that. Incidentally, on my way in just now, I noticed a couple of elderly guys going up to the roof terrace, so I assume you’re still selling those dodgy apples.”

  “There’s nothing dodgy about them. Look, the main reason I asked you to come down here—”

  “Asked?”

  “Is because I have a bit of an emergency on my hands.”

  “What kind of emergency?”

  “Do you know Julie?”

  “Your head Everette? Yes, she’s a lovely girl.”

  “She came in here earlier and handed in her notice. Just like that. Without any consideration as to how it would affect me. Can you believe it? After all the things I’ve done for her.”

  “Such as making her wear that awful uniform, and paying her a pittance?”

  “She says she’s going to leave at the end of next week. So inconsiderate.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Grandma, but I’m not sure what you expect me to do about it.”

  “I thought you could come and work here for a couple of weeks until I find a permanent replacement. It’s not like you have anything else to do.”

  “It may have escaped your notice, but I have a business of my own to run, and I’m very busy, as it happens. I don’t have time to work in here.”

  “I’d make you temporary manager and pay you a good wage.”

  “Sorry, Grandma, I simply don’t have the time.” And I’d rather chew glass.

  “What about that sister of yours? What’s her name?”

  “It’s Kathy, as well you know. She wouldn’t be interested. Her bridal shops are doing remarkably well, and she’s already talking about opening a third one.”

  “This is all very inconvenient. What am I supposed to do?”

  “You could always try putting an ad on one of those job websites.”

  “Do you have to pay to do that?”

  “I would imagine so.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to do that, then.” She sighed. “Right, well, you’ve been no help at all. You can go.”

  And with that, I was dismissed.

  As I left the shop, I spotted Julie behind the counter. She was busy with a customer, so I didn’t go over to talk to her, but I did give her a thumbs-up.

  ***

  Back at the office, Mrs V was busy knitting. She’d still not made any mention of what she’d been up to in Coffee Games, so I figured it was personal, and none of my business.

  Which made me even more curious.

  Winky was sitting on my desk, filing his claws.

  “If it isn’t pigeon girl!”

  “No salmon for you for a month.”

  “What?” He dropped the nail file. “Come on. Don’t you think you’re overreacting? It’s only a nickname.”

  “This isn’t about pigeon girl.”

  “Why then? Don’t tell me you’re broke again.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with the money.”

  “Why can’t I have any salmon, then?”

  “Because you sent me on a wild goose chase to Washbridge City Council offices and let me make a complete fool of myself.”

  “I can’t believe you fell for that.” He laughed. “But you did, didn’t you? Hook, line and sinker.”

  “I’ve just wasted an hour of my life down there.”

  “Come on, Jill. Whatever happened to your sense of humour? I thought for sure you’d see the funny side.”

  “Well, you were wrong. Let’s see if you see the funny side when you’re eating budget cat food for a month.”

  He clearly didn’t because he disappeared under the sofa to sulk.

  I made a call to the new owner of the drive-thru where the murder had taken place.

  “Is that Jason Bond?”

  “Jason speaking.”

  “My name’s Jill Maxwell. I’d like to talk to you about the murder of Alison Reed.”

  “Sorry, darling, who are you exactly?”

  “I’m a private investigator. I’ve been hired by Arnold Kramer’s parents, to try and prove his innocence, and I was hoping I might speak to you?”

  “I don’t see how I can help, darling. I didn’t take over the business until long after the murder took place.”

  “Still, if you’d just spare me a few minutes.”

  “No chance, darling. It was the publicity surrounding the murder that resulted in the restaurant being closed down before. I don’t intend to do anything that might result in a repeat of that.”

  “But, Mr Bond, if you could just—”

  It was too late; he’d hung up. What a creep. How dare he darling me?

  Winky was still grumbling to himself and glaring at me from under the sofa. He could keep that up forever as far as I was concerned. He’d pushed me too far this time.

  My phone rang.

  “Luther, hi. Is everything okay for tonight?”

  “Yes and no. I thought I’d better let you know that I’ve just had a phone call from the restaurant to say they have a problem in the kitchen. Something to do with the cold-room, I believe. They’ve had to cancel all tonight’s bookings.”

  “Really? How disappointing.”

  “There’s a little Italian place near my offices. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to get a table there, but I wanted to check with you to see if that would be okay.”

  “That’s fine by me. What time?”

  “I’ll have to see what they have available, but I’ll try for eight-ish. I’ll send you a text as soon as I’ve made the booking.”

  “Okay, that’s great. We’re both looking forward to tonight.”

  ***

  I’d already interviewed two of the members of the art appreciation society, and I was now on my way to see Myla Donovan.

  The woman who answered the door had long, dark hair, and was wearing a full-length floral dress.

  “Hi. My name is Jill Maxwell. I phoned earlier.”

  “Wait there a moment, would you?”

  She disappeared back into the house, leaving the door slightly ajar.

  Moments later, she reappeared, but this time she was wearing a trouser suit.

  “Jill?”

  “Err, yeah.” Her quick-change routine had left me a little confused.

  “Do come in.”

  It was only when I got inside, that everything became clear. The woman who had originally answered the door was standing in the hall. The two women were obviously identical twins.

  “This is my sister, Maureen,” Myla said.

  “Right. It’s nice to meet you both.”

  “Maureen’s just about to leave. Let’s go through to the lounge; we can talk in there.”

  We both took a seat on a large leather sofa, which insisted on squeaking every time I moved.

  “I understand that you’ve already spoken to Hannah and Finley,” she said.

  “That’s right. Did they call you?”

  “Actually, we met for drinks last night. We were discussing the missing painting.”

  “What did you think of the painting?”

  “It’s a first-class piece of art, but I think it’s wasted on Lori. Goodness knows where she found the money to pay for it.”

  “Can you talk me through what you remember about the day in question?”

  “There isn’t a lot to tell. We talked in the dining room for a while, and then Lori went to get the drinks. While she was out of the room, the bees somehow got in, and we were forced to leave. Lori called the pest-control man, and the rest of us went home.”

  “Do you have any thoughts on what might have happened to the painting?”

  “Not really. I suppose some lowlife must have sneaked into the apartment while we were outside and stolen it. I heard there had been a spate of burglaries in that area.”

  After I’d left Myla’s, I tried again to contact the remaining member of WFAAS: Gabriella Wilde. I’d called her a few times previously, but she’d not answered my calls. However, as you know, persistence is my middle name, and this time I managed to get through to her.

 

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