Deadly Traditions, page 27
She decided to pick up cranberries first at Bert and Phyllis’s fruit and vegetable stall, while Lily headed over to Stan’s table. As she examined the fresh produce on display, Holly kept an eye out for Simon. Stan’s van was parked beside his poultry stall, which was filled with all sorts of birds. Geese, ducks, chickens and turkeys were arranged beside trays of eggs.
As Holly placed her buys into her shopping bag a shrill scream pierced the air. She raced over to the poultry stall, where Lily, the source of the scream, stood, her shaking hands gripping her throat, her wide eyes staring into the open back doors of the van at Stan’s lifeless body. Theo, Stan’s assistant, was bent into the back of the van, looking inside. He pulled his head from the van, his mouth a round O of shock and surprise. In his hand, he clutched a blood-covered rock.
Chapter 2
A crowd quickly gathered around the poultry stall. Now that Theo had stepped away, Holly could see Stan’s body lying face down on the van floor, he wore a dirt-encrusted, white T-shirt and the back of his head was caked in blood, before she was moved back by Lily’s husband, PC Forrest, who closed the van doors. ‘Everyone back,’ he called. ‘And no one leave. Stay here.’
After the police arrived from Dundee, and the area had been taped off, awaiting the forensics team, Holly and the others were ushered across to the local hotel. Those who had been making their way to the market had been turned back home. But at least forty people still milled around inside the lounge of the Flying Goose. The sound of Oh, Christmas Time, playing on the jukebox, was silenced when the landlord, Malcolm, switched it off and asked everyone to take a seat, be silent and wait to be interviewed by the police. Malcolm’s wife, Cherry Ives, stood stock-still beside the glittering lights of the Christmas tree, a look of utter confusion on her pale face. Holly thought Cherry had looked washed out for a bit now and on reflection hadn’t been her normal cheerful self for some time. Malcolm was a bit of a ladies’ man, a renowned flirt. Cherry was well aware of Malcolm’s affairs. How she put up with it, Holly didn’t know. She would come back and speak to her friend later, once the police had left.
Holly hadn’t had to wait long before being called through to the back bar, which had been set up for the police interviews. Theo and then Lily, who had both discovered Stan’s body had been taken in first. She was called in soon after them, having already confirmed her name and contact details to PC Forrest, who, as a local resident already knew everyone in Pine Meadows.
As she had sat waiting in the lounge of the Flying Goose, with nothing much to do but think, something had gnawed at Holly’s thoughts. The more she had tried to shake the sight of Stan Butcher’s lifeless body from her vision, the more the thought that had accompanied the brief sighting of him evaded her. She’d known it was something important, but her brain wouldn’t register it. ‘Perhaps, whatever it is will come back to me later, when I’m able to think clearer,’ she told the Detective Sergeant who interviewed her and had arranged to speak to her again the following day as part of the police’s door-to-door enquiries.
As she made her way back through the lounge of the Flying Goose to head home, Holly saw Simon but, as everyone had been instructed not to talk to each other until after they’d been interviewed, she didn’t approach him. It was his brother who had died. She let out a deep breath. Poor Simon. He was being comforted by PC Forrest and another policeman, who now assisted him through to the back bar to be interviewed.
By the time she returned home to her cottage, Holly had started to shiver. Seeing the battered body of her friend had shocked her to the core. She piled logs high on the wood burner in the sitting room and lit the fire. As she sat in a chair beside the crackling fire, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulder, the thought she had struggled so hard to remember earlier suddenly struck home. When she’d seen Stan’s body, he’d been wearing a dirty white T-shirt, yet she was certain that when he’d passed the church hall in his van, he’d been wearing a white butchers’ coat and a blue striped apron. And a beanie hat. Something wasn’t right.
Chapter 3
The following morning, Holly sat on the sofa in her lounge and recounted to two detectives what she had observed. While likely this wouldn’t have been news to them, the fact that she’d seen Stan’s van arriving in the village not long before he was found, and that the driver had been wearing a white coat, striped butcher’s apron and a beanie could be.
‘So, what time was it you saw Stan Butcher’s van passing?’ one of the detectives asked.
Holly, who had heard the gossip that Stan had likely been murdered had already considered her answer. ‘About fifteen minutes, twenty max before he was found. So, if Stan wasn’t wearing them when I saw him, where are they?’
‘That’s for us to find out,’ the detective said.
When the detectives left, Holly couldn’t settle. The image of Stan’s battered body kept flashing through her mind, and she felt a need to keep busy. She made her way through to the kitchen, where she hummed along to the Christmas songs on the radio as she made a pot of tomato, basil and red pepper soup.
An hour later, and clutching a flask, she took herself off to see Stan’s wife - to pass on her condolences and a bowl of hot soup to Ivy. It was only a ten-minute walk to the poultry farm along a minor road, sided by fields and tunnels of trees. Holly used the time to think about Stan’s missing butcher’s coat and apron. As she arrived at a clear section of road between the branch off to Bert Bow’s and Stan Butcher’s farms, she caught sight of a silver-coloured coin on the ground. When she picked it up, she realised that it wasn’t a coin. Turning it around in the palm of her hand, she recognised it as a button from one of the elf costumes that Marjorie Thomas had made. Holly slipped the button into her coat pocket. Whoever had lost it might be looking for it.
She still hadn’t managed to speak to Simon and was pleasantly surprised to see his car parked outside when she arrived at the back of the old farmhouse. Simon came out to meet her and showed her through to the kitchen where Ivy sat hunched in a chair beside the Aga. Simon apologised for not having called to see Holly but said he would drop a turkey off at her cottage as soon as he could manage. Holly thanked him and placed the flask of soup on the pine table beside an already iced Christmas cake and two plates of mincemeat pies.
Ivy looked up, a glazed look in her red-rimmed eyes. The police had told her that Theo had discovered her husband’s body and that he’d had a rock in his hand. ‘I can’t believe anyone would harm Stan. But if it wasn’t Theo, then who else could it be?’ she said. ‘I can’t take it in.’
Holly listened as Simon recounted the events leading up to the discovery of the body. Simon had helped Stan and Theo set up the stall, then he left Theo tending to things when Stan had set off to return to the farm, while he went to speak with Bert Bow. Theo hadn’t put some of the larger turkeys into the van, and Stan had gone back for them.
‘How was Stan when he left here to go back to the market?’ Holly asked.
‘He seemed fine.’ Ivy said. ‘Well, apart from muttering about letting Theo go if he didn’t buck up his ideas.’
Holly nodded. As a teenager, Theo had been a bit of a character who got into fights. ‘Stan took him on when no one else in the village would employ him.’
‘Stan wasn’t keen on it at first,’ Ivy said, ‘but I wanted to give Theo a chance. We’d both known his father well before he died from that combine harvester accident all these years ago. And we got on with Theo’s mother.’
A thought occurred to Holly. A few days earlier, Simon had told her about an issue that had arisen between Stan and Bert and Phyllis Bow who owned the neighbouring farm. She said to Lily, ‘Simon told me the Bows have applied to expand their fruit and vegetable produce to include eggs and chickens.’
Ivy grimaced. ‘Aye, and as you can imagine, Stan wasn’t happy about that. He exchanged a few heated words with Bert Bow about it in the Flying Goose.’
Holly decided to check this out and made her way to the Flying Goose to see if Cherry had heard anything. She wanted to have a word with her anyway, to see how she was. The landlady or even her husband, Malcolm, might have overheard Stan and Bert’s argument.
Cherry was polishing glasses behind the bar when Holly arrived. The Flying Goose had just opened its doors and was still empty of customers. The smell of wax polish and burning logs masked the usual late morning smell of stale beer. Holly knew that she didn’t have long to chat with Cherry before the lunchtime crowd started to arrive. Malcolm, who was stacking bottles of beer onto the shelves, nodded to acknowledge her arrival but continued with his task.
Cherry filled two cups from the Keurig coffee maker on the bar and brought them over to a table by the window where Holly had taken a seat.
When Malcolm went out the back for wood for the already blazing fire, Holly said. ‘Are you two okay? You could cut the atmosphere in here with a knife.’ Despite the warmth of the fire, there was a chill in the air. Holly wondered if she was the cause of Cherry’s reluctance to talk. ‘You are both still coming for Christmas dinner . . . aren’t you?’
Cherry shook her head and then glanced over at the bar. ‘Oh, it’s not that. Of course, I am. I wouldn’t miss one of your delicious dinners. It’s just that…’
Holly touched Cherry’s arm. ‘Would you rather speak later?’
Cherry forced a smile. ‘Malcolm’s at it again. Isn’t he? Like always, I’ll be the last to know if he is having another affair. But believe me, I’m going to find out. He’s been well warned this time. He knows he’s on his last chance, so he’ll have been doubly keen to have covered his tracks.’ She looked Holly in the eye. ‘You would tell me, wouldn’t you?’
Holly nodded. ‘Of course. If I knew anything, I’d let you know. But what makes you think he’s seeing someone?’
‘He’s been going AWOL. It’s his usual pattern. At first, I let it go, and then I started to think about where he was going when he went out on his bicycle. Then Stan died, and I didn’t want to say anything, and Malcolm stopped disappearing. But it’s still playing on my mind. Likely it’s just me being over watchful.’
Holly understood. She also understood that Cherry didn’t want to discuss this any further. Malcolm had arrived back with an armful of logs and was stacking them into the basket.
‘Did you hear Stan arguing in here with Bert Bow the night before he died?’ Holly said.
Malcolm came over. Both he and Cherry had heard the argument. Stan had been furious that Bert Bow had applied for a licence to breed chickens and sell their eggs. Their farms bordered each other, and he accused Bert of trying to destroy his livelihood. It wasn’t the first time they’d fallen out. The last time had been over a boundary dispute.
Chapter 4
After leaving the Flying Goose, Holly joined the queue outside the local grocery shop. As the market had been closed off after Stan’s body had been discovered, many of the villagers had been unable to buy a turkey or other poultry and much of the fresh fruit and vegetables they needed to make their Christmas dinner. Like the others in line, Holly hoped the local shop would have enough to go around. Most of the stock from the farmers’ market had been redirected there. Given that Marjorie Thomas owned the shop, Holly didn’t hold high hopes of nabbing the best of anything, even if Marjorie was coming to Holly’s house for Christmas dinner.
At the head of the queue, Old Rosie held court. She spoke in a raised voice, and Holly picked up what she said. But, like most others, Holly disregarded much of what she heard as more of Rosie’s ramblings. It was best not to heed her. Likely it was Stan’s murder that had set her off again.
‘I’m telling you,’ Old Rosie said. ‘All these strange goings on up at the poultry farm. I got a double yoker again. Something isn’t right. The hens in the hen house have been squawking at night.’
Holly moved up the queue. It would soon be her turn to go into the shop. As she passed her, Old Rosie grabbed her arm. ‘It’s the foxes. At night. They are back. The hens are unsettled. I can hear them from my backyard. I saw people wandering about, you know. The other night, and many nights before that. People sneaking about with the foxes.’
Poor Rosie had never been right, but she’d been worse since her parents died. She’d looked after them both for years. First, her mother and then her father passed away. Her father had been a solicitor in Dundee, and her mother had been wheelchair-bound before her death. Rosie now lived alone in the large bungalow, with her ground bordering on to Stan’s poultry farm on one side and onto Bert Bow’s fruit and vegetable farm on the other. Although Rosie had been left well cared for financially, the bungalow had fallen into disrepair and needed a lot of work done to it. Rosie was always telling strange stories to anyone who would listen. The tales about the odd comings and goings on the poultry farm were just the latest of many episodes. Holly assumed she was lonely.
As she made to step into Marjorie’s shop, the sight of Sam’s assistant, Theo, being bundled into the back of a police car, stopped Holly in her tracks. ‘What’s going on,’ she asked Theo’s mother who wept as she watched her son leave.
‘They’re saying Theo murdered Stan. But it wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been.’
Holly was startled by the news. She took Theo’s mother by the arm and led her into her house and sat her down.
‘I know Theo had a reputation for getting into trouble but Stan and Ivy trusted him,’ Theo’s mother said between sobs. ‘Theo hasn’t been in any trouble lately. He’s put those days behind him.’
Chapter 5
The next morning, after she’d finished wrapping her presents and placing them under the tree, Holly sat at her kitchen table with her friend Lily Forrest. They each clutched a mug of hot chocolate which they sipped deep in thought.
‘So,’ Holly said, ‘What do you make of Theo being taken in for questioning? Do you think he murdered Stan?’
‘Well, the police think so. They are certain they have their man. Why? Do you think he didn’t do it?’
‘You were there with Theo at the open doors of the van…’
‘Aye, and it’s a sight I’ll never forget,’ Lily said. ‘It looks like Theo hit Stan on the back of the head with that rock. Then he bundled him into the back of the van and opened the doors as I approached so that I would be a witness to him finding the body. It’s all so blurry now. I can’t really be sure what happened.’
‘Hmph,’ Holly uttered and laid her empty mug down. ‘Theo’s mum said he’d never been out of her sight from the time Stan and Simon left until he opened the van doors. Her stall was right next to his. She said Theo had been busy serving customers until he went to unpack the van. It had been about fifteen minutes since the van had arrived back and there’d been no sign of Stan. If that’s true, Theo wouldn’t have had time to hit Stan and then put him in the back of the van. But. He was holding a bloodied rock.’
Lily lifted both mugs over to the sink and filled them with water. ‘If Theo didn’t kill Stan then who was it?’ she asked after sitting down.
Holly wasn’t sure what she thought, but something wasn’t adding up. ‘Well, for starters, where is Stan’s apron, white coat and beanie? Have the police found them yet?’ She reached into her pocket and pulled out the silver-coloured button she’d found. Something had dawned on her, adding to her confusion. ‘And how did this get onto the road beside Old Rosie’s bungalow and near to both the Butcher’s and the Bow’s farms?’
Lily peered at the button and screwed up her face as if totally confused. ‘Anyone could have dropped that button. Are you saying it’s connected? I can’t see how.’
‘What if I told you that it’s a button from one of the elf costumes?’
‘And?’ Lily said.
‘Think about it. We had the first dress rehearsal for the carol concert the morning Stan died. The costumes were only given out to the elves as they arrived in the hall for the rehearsal. So, no one could have lost a button before then.’
Lily tilted her head to one side. ‘Except for Marjorie Thomas. She could have dropped the button. After all, she made the costumes.’
Frustrated by Lily’s arguments, Holly sat forward. ‘Okay, so who, other than Marjorie Thomas, had access to an elf costume before the dress rehearsal?’
‘What?’ Lily shook her head. ‘I think you’re looking for clues where there aren’t any. We need to stick to what we know. It seems certain that Theo murdered Stan. How does finding a button change that?’
‘That and the missing clothes. Humour me,’ Holly said. ‘Who was given an elf outfit that morning, and when did they leave the church hall?’
Lily nodded. ‘Okay, if it helps. There are five elves. Cherry and Malcolm Ives from the Flying Goose. Neither of them can hold a tune, but they wanted to join in. Malcolm left not long after putting his costume on, but Cherry stayed until the end and left when we did.’
‘And Old Rosie, Rosie Greene,’ Holly added. ‘But we passed her as we were leaving. She was heading through to the kitchen for a cup of tea with Marjorie Thomas and the minister.’
Lily held up a hand and tapped her fingers with the forefinger of her other hand, counting the elves off. ‘There was also Bert Bow. Phyllis is in the choir, but Bert is tone deaf. He was another of the hummingbirds dressed as an elf. They both left early to finish setting up their stall. That only leaves us with one more elf and he left the hall not long after he arrived.’
Holly froze. Her heart hammering. She licked her dry lips. ‘Stan’s brother, Simon.’
Chapter 6
