A Slice of Murder, page 7
‘Sure,’ Shilpa said, a little taken aback, and before she could even say goodbye, he was gone. She looked into her cup and wondered what had just happened. She finished her tea and placed the cup back on its saucer. ‘Nice,’ she said out loud. Why had she brought up the Connolly case? Of course he wouldn’t want to be interrogated about his work outside of work. He hadn’t asked her any questions about the perfect bake. Good one, Shilpa, she thought to herself sarcastically. He did say rain check though. Every cloud and all that.
Shilpa stood up and grabbed her bag. Then she paused and looked around at the other customers, as she had a sense that she was being watched. An old gentleman concentrated on his scone, and a lone woman with dark hair was staring intently at her magazine. The woman briefly looked up. Shilpa noticed she had the most amazing bone structure set off by a vibrant green scarf. She sighed. She was being paranoid. No one looked the least bit interested in her. She shook off the feeling and stepped out into the summer day.
Chapter Sixteen
‘Mum, I’m going to be late,’ Shilpa said into her mobile as she slammed shut her car door. She usually used this line when her mother started lecturing her about something or other, but this time she was actually going to be late.
‘But he’s a nice boy,’ her mother said.
‘I don’t really have time for this.’ Shilpa turned the key in the ignition, but the engine wouldn’t start. She hit the dashboard and tried again.
‘I gave him your address,’ her mother said sharply.
‘You did what?’ Shilpa asked incredulously as she turned the key again and again.
‘I gave him–’
‘I heard you. Why would you give some complete stranger my address?’
‘Didn’t you hear me? He isn’t a stranger. He’s Bippu Aunty’s nephew.’
Shilpa gritted her teeth. She didn’t even know who Bippu Aunty was. ‘Fine,’ she said, hurrying her mother along. She tried the ignition again. The car started, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to know any more details about this prospective new man. She could always pretend not to be in when he turned up. Shilpa said goodbye, disconnected the call, put her phone on silent and glanced over to the boot. The Earl Grey-and-lemon cake had turned out okay after all. She had done two large cakes to feed the guests, and she reckoned it would be enough. The lemon frosting, with just a hint of yellow so it wasn’t too garish, was pretty good too. ‘Fitting,’ she’d said to herself as she loaded the cakes into the car. Her choice of cake was perfect for a funeral.
‘So, you made it then,’ Olivia said to Shilpa as she walked in with a cake in each hand, her handbag slung over her shoulder. Shilpa smiled. She had made it to the wake, but not the church service. She just didn’t have time. The first batch of frosting she had made wasn’t right, so she had to start again. Then she had to find something black and appropriate to wear, which had been a trial in itself. She eventually found an old Vivienne Westwood dress in the last packing box she had decided to open which fitted the bill. And then of course there had been the phone call from her mother and her car ignition playing up. It had been doing that for some time, and she had meant to get it looked at before she got stuck somewhere. Another thing for her never-ending list. She shoved the thought to the back of her mind.
It was a shame she’d missed the church service because she’d wanted to check out the guests. See how well Harriet played the grieving fiancée and if Evan White would have the nerve to show up. She also wanted to observe Harriet’s parents. Her dad, Steven Drew, didn’t think much of Mason and was rumoured to have attempted to pay off Harriet’s previous fiancé. Her mother Margery wasn’t innocent either. She had told the police that she never went into her husband’s study when Shilpa knew she had been in there. At the party Margery had told her quite clearly she had used the spatula to jimmy open the old bureau drawer. What was in that drawer? Whatever it was, she was sure the Drews would have disposed of it by now, as soon as the police had left their home.
‘You didn’t miss much at the funeral,’ Olivia said. ‘Harriet shed some obligatory crocodile tears. She wore a beautiful black veil under a pillbox hat, very fifties and glam; not what you expect for your local town funeral. Evan was there too. Stood on the other side as they were lowering Mason into the ground; kept looking at Harriet. I like Evan, but it was a little disrespectful.’
Shilpa had placed the cakes on the table near the cheese puffs and was now looking at the open front door as the guests started to filter through. A petite lady with pale skin and electric-red hair walked in alone. Large bug-eyed sunglasses covered most of her face. She looked lost, alone, like a nervous graduate at a business networking lunch. By the colour of her hair, Shilpa assumed this redhead was the ex-girlfriend June had mentioned.
‘Her name’s Alison. One of Mason’s exes,’ Olivia said, confirming her suspicions. ‘She’s a bit cuckoo if you ask me. A custard short of a pudding. I overheard her telling her mates that Mason was going to marry her. But that was before Izzy, let alone Harriet, so if you ask me, it was all in her head.’
‘Overheard?’
‘In a bar,’ Olivia said, arching her eyebrow. ‘I do go out sometimes, despite three kids. It was a rare night off. Anyways, I’m not that much older than her, and there are only two bars in this town. Two bars, two cafés, one pub and a couple of restaurants. It’s how everyone knows everything. She could have done it.’
‘She’s tiny,’ Shilpa said, watching the red-haired woman. ‘Can’t see her being able to overpower a grown man.’
Olivia suggested that Mason could have been drugged. It was a good point. Shilpa knew so little about the case. Danny wasn’t proving useful either. Maybe once they were closer things would be different. But then again, it would probably be a long time before that happened. She sighed. Right now, Danny seemed as far out of her grasp as finding out who killed Mason Connolly. She sliced the cakes and then pulled her phone out of her bag, following Olivia into the kitchen. Before she could think about it and stop herself, she sent Danny a text asking if he wanted to meet later in the week.
She instantly received a reply, bringing a smile to her lips. He suggested a game of tennis on Monday afternoon. Tennis wasn’t really her thing, but why not. She sent him a thumbs-up emoji in response and considered whether she had any suitable sportswear before slipping her phone back into her bag.
From the kitchen, with the door open, she had a good view of the guests. She watched Alison. Her skin was almost translucent. Alison was good-looking in an ethereal kind of way, and she had a quirky sense of style with her ruched deep-red velvet gown and black lace-up boots. Shilpa watched as she helped herself to a large gin and a cheese puff, which she picked at like a bird. She hadn’t seen Alison at the engagement party, but then if Olivia was right, there was probably a good reason she hadn’t been invited. June had said no exes were invited, but Izzy, the good-looking ex with the dark hair, had been at the party.
She watched Harriet now as people walked up to her, offering her their condolences, telling her anecdotes that involved Mason. Every so often Harriet would wipe a tear from her eye. When she saw Alison, the two women stared at each other for just a moment, and although she couldn’t see Alison’s face, Harriet’s expression was one of pure hatred.
‘Shilpa, dear, you must come and join us celebrating Mason’s life. You’re as much a guest here as the others,’ June said, handing Shilpa a glass of prosecco and steering her by her elbow towards the living room. ‘Oh look,’ June said. ‘My dear friend Steven.’
Shilpa watched as Steven Drew offered his condolences and then passed on those of his wife. ‘She couldn’t make it. She isn’t feeling well,’ he said with regret, although the blink-and-you’d-miss-it roll of his eyes betrayed his words.
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ June said. ‘It’s a hard time for all of us.’ June cleared her throat and looked away. Her voice caught as she introduced Shilpa to Steven.
‘We’ve met,’ Steven said, offering Shilpa his hand.
‘Yes, silly me. Of course you have,’ June said, her eyes watching Steven Drew. ‘Shilpa made Harriet and my Mason’s engagement cake.’ Her voice caught again, and Steven put a reassuring hand on her arm. June leaned in towards him for a moment and then pulled away. ‘It’s just such a sad, sad time,’ she said.
‘And Bernard?’ Steven said. ‘He’s here, yes?’
‘Yes,’ June said. She looked towards Shilpa. ‘My husband,’ she said by way of explanation. ‘He’s over there.’ She pointed towards the large bay window at the front of the house. A tall balding man was stooped in the window, wearing an ill-fitting suit and holding a plate full of canapés close to his chest. He didn’t fit the image of a shipping magnate that Shilpa had imagined.
‘I must go and say hello,’ Steven said. ‘Please excuse me.’
‘Before you do, Steven,’ June said, her voice soft, ‘you must employ Shilpa for your event next week. What is it again?’
‘It’s a launch for our new digital chat service.’ Steven looked at Shilpa. ‘It’s what the younger clients want. You know what these millennials are like. No one actually wants to physically speak to someone these days. The event is just a small thing,’ he said. He looked Shilpa up and down. Then he abruptly took out a business card from the top pocket of his suit and scribbled a number on the back. ‘We wanted to cancel it with what has happened, but…’ He trailed off, leaving Shilpa wondering if Mr Drew, who was known not to have cared much for his future son-in-law, was struggling to believe the boy’s death was a good enough reason to cancel his event. ‘This Tuesday,’ he continued. ‘The event starts at four. We’re expecting fifty people and need something appropriate.’
Shilpa was shocked into silence by his abrupt manner, but then Steven Drew held out his hand. ‘Think you can manage that?’ he said with a smile which softened his features. And although she wanted to say she would check her diary, that she would give it some consideration, she didn’t. Instead, she found herself agreeing and suggesting fifty cupcakes with the Drew Accounting logo and fifty with the digital chat icon. Business was business, after all.
‘Simple, branded,’ he said, and she nodded, thinking it was an easy bake as well.
‘That sounds lovely,’ June said, and winked at Shilpa before she walked off.
‘Call my office,’ Mr Drew said. ‘Ask for Loretta. I’ve put her details on the back. Send your invoice to her after. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to talk to that chap. He really should tidy himself up a bit,’ he mumbled, and with that Steven Drew walked in the direction of Bernard Connolly.
Chapter Seventeen
‘Interesting, don’t you think, that he missed his son’s engagement,’ Olivia said, walking up behind Shilpa. ‘He couldn’t have approved of the match. And look at him. If I was worth half of what he’s worth I wouldn’t be dressing like that.’
‘He’s just lost his son.’
‘He always dresses like that,’ Olivia said. ‘Even when Mason was alive.’
‘Zero dress sense; a little like Steve Jobs – and look at Bill Gates. What is interesting though is, like you say, he missed his son’s engagement.’
‘Some deal with China, apparently,’ a voice said from behind them.
‘Oh Danny, love, you gave me a fright,’ Olivia said.
‘You two know each other?’ Shilpa asked, looking at Danny curiously.
‘Yes, we go back,’ Danny said, kissing Olivia on her cheek.
‘Shilpa, this is the copper I was telling you about. My brother-in-law. Married to my sister,’ Olivia said. ‘But how do you two know each other?’
Shilpa stood motionless in the middle of Mason Connolly’s wake, feeling like she had just been hit by a bus. She wanted to say something. She wanted to ask Danny why he hadn’t mentioned that he was married.
‘We went to university together,’ Danny said. ‘Bumped into each other just the other day.’
‘You need to introduce her to Theo,’ Olivia said. She turned to Shilpa. ‘He’s a detective sergeant on the case.’ She turned back to Danny. ‘Did you know she was the one to find the bloodstained knife at the Drews’? How creepy.’
‘Theo won’t be able to tell you anything. He’s all right though. Moved this way a couple of years ago,’ Danny said with a shrug. ‘Very sure of himself. Might be why he’s still single.’
Olivia scowled at him. ‘He’s a fine lad. Danny’s just a bit narked that this guy has come in from another force and is a sergeant. Not to mention at least a foot taller and better-looking,’ Olivia said playfully, squeezing her brother-in-law’s shoulder.
‘Oh, give over,’ Danny said with a forced laugh.
‘He’s a charmer, this one,’ Olivia said, looking at Danny with affection. ‘So, tell me. Did you see him again?’
Shilpa stared at Olivia, her mind in a fog. ‘Who?’
‘The man you’re after.’ Olivia turned to Danny. ‘She’s after someone.’
‘Oh,’ Shilpa said, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘We met. It didn’t work out.’
‘You decided that pretty quick,’ Olivia said. ‘Just yesterday–’
‘It went downhill from there,’ Shilpa said, cutting her off. Her mouth was dry. She downed her glass of prosecco.
‘Careful with that,’ Olivia said, looking at her glass. Shilpa scanned the room for the waiter to offer her a refill.
Danny smiled. Not a malicious smile, not a know-it-all smile, but a genuine smile which told her he had never been interested in her in the first place. ‘We’re meeting for tennis tomorrow. How about we make it doubles, and I’ll bring Theo too if he’s free. I didn’t realise you were in the dating game,’ Danny said.
‘I’m not really in the dating game,’ Shilpa said, her cheeks colouring.
‘Oh, get out of it,’ Olivia said. ‘You’re a gorgeous young single woman and without the burden of children. You’re most definitely on the lookout.’
Shilpa couldn’t help but nod. It must have been the shock.
‘Lo can’t make tennis, silly. Not with the problems she’s had and that swollen belly. She’s about to pop,’ Olivia said, turning to Shilpa. Shilpa wanted to cry. ‘But I could give it a go. The kids have their own things on tomorrow.’
‘That’s settled then,’ Danny said. ‘I’ll give Theo a call.’
‘You know,’ Shilpa said, plastering a smile on her face, ‘I’m just going to check on the cake.’ She quickly walked away from Danny and Olivia. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She had thought Danny had been flirting with her. She had been mistaken – his wife was pregnant. Olivia said that her brother-in-law worked at Glass Bay. Why didn’t she mention Danny then? Was it possible that Danny genuinely liked her? She shook her head. It wasn’t. She had been stupid, and even if he was planning on cheating on his heavily pregnant wife, she wanted no part in it.
Shilpa adjusted her handbag and walked towards the patio doors. She could easily escape through them without having to pass Olivia and Danny again. She walked quickly, her head bowed, until she bumped into someone. She looked up. The woman in front of her was stunning. She wore a forest-green bodycon dress, entirely inappropriate for a funeral, but nevertheless she carried it off somehow. She was sure the woman with her dark curls and sparkling eyes was Izzy – dressed in signature green, as Leoni had mentioned. She had definitely seen her at Mason and Harriet’s engagement party.
Shilpa looked up to the darkening sky as she got into her red Fiat. She tried the key in the ignition, but it wouldn’t start. Her car wasn’t old. It shouldn’t have been playing up like this. She hit the dashboard and tried again.
‘Come on,’ she shouted.
Nothing.
Five minutes later, with no joy in getting her car to start, she decided she would walk. Remembering she had a duty as caterer to clear up after the guests, she quickly sent Olivia a message asking the favour of her. She made an excuse of feeling a little unwell. Olivia’s response was instantaneous. She would clear up, and she told her to get a good night’s rest ahead of their tennis game – only if she was up to it, of course.
As Shilpa pulled the key out of the ignition, a fat drop of rain landed on the windscreen. She looked back at the house she had just snuck out of and then at her shoes. She had worn heels. Not Louboutin 3.94 inches but a respectable three inches. After months of living in Devon, she had pretty much forgotten how to walk in heels. She was close to punching the steering wheel when she remembered she had a spare pair of flats in the rear passenger seat. Finally, something was going her way.
She reached behind her, changed her shoes and stepped out of the car. The red love hearts on the toes of her black pumps jeered at her. Fat chance she was ever going to fall in love.
By the time Shilpa reached her house, she was soaking wet. The light summer evening was much darker than she’d anticipated. The sensor light to the front of the house wasn’t working. Of course it wasn’t. She wanted to scream. She rummaged around in her bag and several minutes later found her keys and walked towards her front door. Despite the rain, she heard a clicking noise coming from the garage directly behind her. She thought she had heard the noise as she walked the mile and a half home from the Connollys’ house, but she had turned around a couple of times and there had been no one behind her. Now an eerie feeling came over her, the same one she had felt in the coffee shop yesterday. She shivered in her wet clothes, took a breath and decided to investigate. She hardly went into the garage, because it just contained more boxes of Uncle Dipesh’s possessions that she needed to sort out, and out of sight was out of mind.
She tried the garage door, but it was locked; of course it was. She didn’t have the key on her key ring. It was in the boiler cupboard in her kitchen. She closed her eyes. She was being dramatic. There wasn’t someone in the garage. How likely was it that someone would have followed her home and then snuck into her garage in the time it took her to find her house keys in her bag? It wasn’t, and in any event, who would want to follow her? She was being ridiculous, and she blamed Mason Connolly. His death was making her paranoid.
