Tapas, Carrot Cake and a Corpse (A Charlotte Denver Cozy Mystery Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Tapas, Carrot Cake and a Corpse (A Charlotte Denver Cozy Mystery Book 1)
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Chapter 6

The next morning, Charlotte arrived at the café to find that, despite an officer being stationed at the entrance to the pier, a crowd of people had already gathered there, amongst them, reporters with cameramen in tow.

For goodness sake!
She thought as she excused her way through them to chain her bike to the railings. 
It’s not even as though there’s anything to see.

Jess arrived just as Charlotte was opening the doors and she quickly switched on the coffee machine before they set up the tables and chairs. Before long, the aroma of freshly ground coffee was wafting out to the assembled crowd and it wasn’t long before they followed their noses, ending up on Charlotte’s terrace ready for a cup of coffee and some breakfast.

“Works like a charm,” Jess grinned at Charlotte as she passed the breakfast orders for six tables into the kitchen. 

Charlotte worked swiftly.  She had her routine off to a tee and it rarely let her down.  In a little over twenty minutes, she had served up 24 breakfasts, all freshly cooked and piping hot.

“Everyone out there is asking about what happened yesterday,” Jess told Charlotte.  “I’ve told them I don’t know much about it, but that it’s doubtful there’ll be much more police activity on the pier today.  I’m sure a lot of them will lose interest in hanging around if they think there’s nothing to see.”

“Good,” replied Charlotte.  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that they’ve all come in for breakfast, but I really don’t like the idea of people hanging around out of sheer morbidness.  You’d think they’d have better things to do.”

“Well, you know what they say, don’t you?” Jess lowered her voice.

“I don’t know – what do they say?”

“They say that a killer always returns to the scene of the crime.  You never know, you could have a murderer sitting out there on the terrace.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened as she looked outside.  “For God’s sake, Jess, don’t tell me that!  You’ve given me goose bumps,” she shivered.  “Anyway, I’m not even thinking of it as a murder – as far as we know, it was natural causes, and until someone tells me otherwise, that’s what I’ll continue to think. 

“Now will you get out of here with your prophecies of doom and let me get on with stuff!”  Laughingly, she shooed Jess away and turned her attention to the joint of beef that was roasting in the oven.  Her roast beef dinner was extremely popular, and Sundays were always guaranteed to be busy because of it. 

As always, the morning passed quickly.  Leo and Harry came in for their regular chat, but unlike the rest of the week, on Sundays they arrived at precisely midday, just as Charlotte began serving lunch, and instead of their usual coffees, they ordered a bottle of red wine between them to complement the blush-pink slices of tender beef. 

At
just before 2.00 pm, Tom arrived for his lunch and settled himself at a table next to Leo and Harry - he loved to chat, and a lively discussion was always a safe bet in the company of those two. 

Charlotte waved to him from the serving window.  “Afternoon, Tom.  I’ll be about five minutes with your lunch – I’m just serving up a few others first.”

“No hurry, my dear.  I’m waiting for someone to join me today, so you take your time,” Tom replied, happily sipping on the ginger beer that Jess had just brought him.

“Oh yes, and who might that be?” teased Jess.  “It’s not that Marjorie Wilkins who was admiring your flowerbeds the other day, is it?”

“’Fraid not,” Tom laughed his wheezy laugh and took another sip of his drink.  “No, it’s that chap who owns the boat the body was found on yesterday.  Gabe, his name is.”

“Oh, have you known him for long?” Jess asked, in surprise.  “Just that nobody else met him until yesterday.”

“Just since they pulled into harbour,” Tom answered.  “He walks up and down the seafront every evening, and we got chatting when I was out watering the garden.  Nice chap.  Anyway, since yesterday, his wife hasn’t been feeling too good, so he’s on his own for lunch.  I told him I’d be happy for him to join me.”

Right on cue, Gabe walked in.  “Good afternoon, ladies, gents.”  He went over and shook hands with Tom, Leo and Harry and took a seat at the table.  “I’ll have a glass of red wine, and a roast beef lunch, please,” he said to Jess.  “Have you already ordered yours, Tom?  Right, can I have mine with Tom’s please?  Thanks.”

Before long, the conversation between the men turned to the events of the previous day.  Gabe told them that he had no idea why the man had singled out their boat to rob. 

“I mean, it’s not as if there aren’t bigger and better boats out there.  Mind you, I did make it easy for him – I don’t think I could have tied up the gangplank securely enough when I left, which meant that he could have pulled it down and jumped on board without too much trouble.” 

As Charlotte worked away in the kitchen, she noticed that – compared to how upset Samantha had been – Gabe was remarkably
un
affected by what had happened.  In fact, he was behaving as though nothing
had
happened. 
Still, I shouldn’t judge him
, she thought. 
I guess we all deal with stuff in different ways and men generally aren’t as sensitive as women, after all.
   

Her musings were interrupted by Jess who came into the kitchen with a concerned look on her face.  “Um, er, Lucy Sanderson’s outside.  She’s here for lunch and she’s waiting for her boyfriend to join her.  I just wanted to mention it because of what you told me this morning about Nathan.”

Charlotte felt her heart sink.  As if she didn’t feel disappointed enough about Nathan being enamoured with Lucy, the last thing she needed was to have them sitting on her terrace, fawning all over each other while she cooked their lunch.

“Don’t worry about it,” she smiled at Jess.  “Life goes on.” 

“I was hoping you’d take it that way,” said Jess.  “Although, I have to say, I’m a little surprised that Nathan has time for lunch with everything that’s going on.”

“Well, regardless of how busy he is, he’s still got to eat, hasn’t he?”  Charlotte reasoned.

Jess shrugged.  “Yeah, I suppose so.  Anyway, she’s asked for a bottle of champagne, so I don’t expect Nathan will be doing much of anything after they’ve drunk that,” she said, as she filled an ice bucket. 

Charlotte focused on the lunch service, hoping that it would stop her from thinking about Nathan and Lucy, feeding each other forkfuls of food as they gazed into each other’s eyes, toasting each other with champagne. 
Stop it!
  she admonished herself.

Five minutes later, Jess came into the kitchen again, a smile on her face.   

“What are you so happy about?” Charlotte asked.

“Well … Lucy’s boyfriend has just arrived.  Um, it’s not Nathan.  It’s some guy called Philip.  Why on earth did you think it was Nathan?” Jess asked, quizzically.

“What are you talking about?  Nathan told me that … that he … um … well, he told me that he’d been out with Lucy, so I assumed they were an item.”  It occurred to her that Nathan hadn’t actually
said
that he and Lucy were together – she’d just assumed it. 

“And don’t give me that look – you’d have thought exactly the same,” she said to Jess, who was shaking her head and tutting.  “So why was she out with Nathan in the first place?”  She was puzzled.

“Well, they were just telling me that Philip’s in the police force too.  He’s recently been transferred from another station and he knows Nathan.  Neither him nor Lucy know this area very well, though, so he asked Nathan if he could recommend some good nightlife.  Nathan told him about that new place, and Philip and Lucy persuaded him to go with them.  That’s why he was out dancing with Lucy the other night.  By the way, you’ve just put nine potatoes on that plate, Charlotte.  I think that’ll be enough,” Jess pointed out.

“Oh, look at me … I can’t concentrate now.  Go on, leave me alone and let me get my head back together,” Charlotte said, grinning from ear to ear.  She couldn’t hide her delight. 

The rest of the day flew by, the afternoon being livened up considerably when Ava, Harriett and Betty turned up and began a sing-song, which, before long, everyone had joined in with. 

At 6.15 pm, the last customers left.  “I haven’t had such a good time in ages,” said Gabe as he shook hands with Charlotte and Jess.  “Thanks very much for your hospitality – it’s been a fantastic afternoon.  I’ll definitely be here again next week, and I’ll see if I can drag Samantha along too.”

He waited for Tom, who was busy kissing all the ladies goodbye, and they left together, singing merrily as they made their way home, Pippin barking enthusiastically in accompaniment.

“D’you know what?” Charlotte asked Jess.

“What?”

“I rather feel like singing myself!”

If Charlotte had only known what lay in store, she wouldn’t have felt quite so cheerful.

ººººººº

It was at precisely 6.10 pm the next evening that Nathan walked past the café with a grim look on his face.

“What on earth’s the matter?” Charlotte stopped stacking up the tables and chairs as soon as she saw him.  Jess had left early to get to a dentist appointment, so she was on her own. 

“Sorry, I can’t stop now,” Nathan said distractedly as the cordon was moved aside and he carried on up the pier.   

Charlotte continued with clearing away the furniture.  She usually rushed through it, as it was a job she hated doing, but she was keen to still be around when Nathan came back down the pier, so she slowed her pace to make sure she was. 

An hour later, the tables and chairs had been brought inside and Charlotte was fast running out of jobs to do to while away the time.  She was just about to lock up when she saw Nathan jump off the boat. 

As he reached the entrance to the pier, he spoke to the officer stationed there before striding across the terrace and poking his head around the door.

“D’you have a minute?” he asked.

“Of course,” Charlotte replied.  “Come in.  Do you want a coffee, or something?”

“No, nothing thanks.  I can’t stay for long, but I wanted to speak to you before I get back to the station.”

Charlotte sat on a barstool and Nathan pulled one over to sit opposite her.

“OK, what I’m going to tell you is confidential.  I shouldn’t be telling you at all – you know that – but I wanted to warn you.  Until the case is solved, just be on your guard when you’re here on your own, OK?”

“Nathan, you’re scaring me – will you just please tell me what’s going on?” Charlotte felt incredibly uneasy.

“Blake’s death – it wasn’t natural causes.  The coroner did a rush job on the post-mortem and found a substantial quantity of muscle relaxant pills mixed with whisky in his stomach.  He said they were ingested about half an hour before death.”

Charlotte’s hand flew to her mouth.  “Oh my God, that’s awful!  So it was suicide?”

Nathan shook his head.  “On the surface, it had all the hallmarks of a possible suicide, but the post-mortem also revealed that a large dose of weed killer had been injected into his system – a puncture wound was found at the side of his neck.  According to the coroner, even without the pills and the whisky, having weed killer injected into his body would have been enough to cause death within a very short space of time.”

Charlotte processed the information and her skin went cold.  “So … is it likely that he injected himself?” she asked slowly.

Nathan shook his head.  “The coroner said that the weed killer was injected between 30 minutes and an hour
after
the pills and the whisky entered Blake’s stomach, by which time, there’s no way he’d still have been conscious, let alone be able to precisely inject himself in the neck.”

Charlotte thought again about what Nathan was telling her.  “So, what you’re saying is …” she could barely bring herself to say the words.

“What I’m saying, Charlotte,” Nathan said quietly, “is that we are no longer treating this as an unfortunate accident, or death by natural causes --- this is now a murder investigation.” 

Chapter 7

Before she went to bed that evening, Charlotte checked three times that the bolts on her doors and windows were securely fastened.  The thought that a murderer might be on the loose in St. Eves was a chilling one.    

She was slightly comforted by the fact that a forensics team were scouring the boat for clues.  They’d arrived shortly before she’d left the café, and Nathan had told her that if there were any clues to Blake’s killer on the boat, they would find them.

She knew she had to keep the information that Nathan had shared with her to herself, but she desperately wanted to tell everyone she knew that there was a murderer in their midst. 
They should all be taking the same safety precautions as me
, she thought as she checked the bolt on the front door once more.  

They’d find out soon enough, though, because Nathan was making a TV appearance in the morning to confirm that Blake had been murdered, and to appeal for witnesses to contact the station with any information that might help the police with their enquiries.

As she lay in bed, she thought about who on earth could have murdered Blake. 

She still wasn’t convinced that he and Samantha hadn’t known each other, although of course, that didn’t make her a murderer.  In any case, Nathan had told her that the friend Samantha claimed to have met on her run, and the receptionist at the gym that Gabe had visited, had both confirmed their whereabouts, proving that neither Samantha nor her husband could have been on the boat at the time of Blake’s death.   

That left the other residents of St. Eves, or a complete stranger.  Charlotte couldn’t believe that someone she knew was a killer, so she guessed that the perpetrator of the crime was someone unknown to her.  She certainly hoped so, anyway.

With thoughts of Nathan, Blake and tapas recipes whirling around in her head, she fell into a restless sleep.

ººººººº

“So if you have any information that may help us to find Blake Hamilton’s killer, please call our incident room on 070 123 321, where our officers are waiting to take your calls.  You don’t have to give your name, and we will have no way of identifying you.  Of course, if you prefer, you can call in to St. Eves police station, where you can speak to an officer in person.  If you have any concerns about giving information, I hope I will allay them by assuring you that all information we receive will be treated in the very strictest of confidence.

“Finally, I would also like to reassure the community of St. Eves that we are doing all we can to bring Mr. Hamilton’s killer to justice, and to remind you that until now, crime such as this is unheard of here in St. Eves.  Although I would ask you to remain vigilant at this time, please remember that this is an isolated incident and we are doing everything in our power to ensure that it remains as such.  Thank you.”

As Nathan’s TV appeal came to an end, Charlotte and Jess looked at each other and grimaced. 

“It’s a nasty business, that’s what it is,” said Jess, as she loaded a tray with fizzy drinks and mugs of coffee.  “They can’t catch whoever did this quick enough for my liking.” 

“I know what you mean,” replied Charlotte, as she switched off the TV and turned the radio back on.  “It took me ages to get to sleep last night, and even then, I kept waking up.  It’s so unsettling.  The only good news is that the police have managed to find out who Blake was, and have contacted his family.  I’m so glad they did - I hated the thought that no-one would come for him.”  

“Yeah, I wonder how they did that?” said Jess as she took the tray of drinks outside.

Charlotte shrugged and went back into the kitchen.  She couldn’t say anything to Jess, but Nathan had mentioned the previous evening that his team had identified Blake on Sunday afternoon. 

He’d had no ID on him when he was found, but enquiries at every local guest-house and hotel had soon proved fruitful after an eagle-eyed concierge had recognised his description, and taken two police officers straight to his room.  Inside, they’d found his passport which had told them all they needed to know about who he was, and who to contact in an emergency.

Charlotte had remarked to Nathan that she thought it was strange that Blake hadn’t been carrying a wallet with some ID in it.  “Don’t
you
think it’s strange?” she’d asked him. 

“Yes, a little,” he’d replied, “but what’s even stranger, is that there was no trace of one in his room either.  No money, credit cards, driving licence – nothing.”

“Not all men carry a wallet, you know - maybe
he
didn’t,” Charlotte had suggested. 

“Yes, he did.”  Nathan had nodded.  “The indentation in the front pocket of his jeans showed that he’d carried a wallet there, and you don’t get an imprint like that unless something’s made it over a considerable length of time.”

As Charlotte sliced tomatoes, she mulled over her conversation with Nathan. 
Where could Blake’s wallet be?
 

As she worked, it suddenly dawned on her that Tom hadn’t been in.  In all the years she’d had the café, she’d never known Tom to miss breakfast.  Setting down her knife on the chopping board, she called out to Jess, “Have you seen Tom this morning?”

Jess frowned.  “D’you know, I haven’t.  With everything that’s going on, it never occurred to me that he hadn’t been in today.”  She and Charlotte looked at each other, neither wanting to say what they were thinking.  Had it been any other customer, they wouldn’t have been concerned if they hadn’t come in for breakfast, but not every other customer was 101 years old.

Eventually, Charlotte said, “I’m sure he’s OK.  I mean, we would have heard if something had happened to him.  Wouldn’t we?”  She looked at the clock, which showed 12.30 pm.  Tom was over three hours late.

“I’ll call him first,” she went into the kitchen for her phone, “and if there’s no answer, I’ll go round on the bike - it’ll only take me a few minutes.  Everyone already has their food, so there won’t be any more orders for a while – you’ll be OK on your own for a bit, won’t you?” 

She dialled Tom’s home number and willed him to answer.  It rang and rang before connecting to the answer phone, and she heard Tom’s slightly bemused voice in her ear.  “Hello, hello … this is Tom Potts speaking.  Can you hear me?  I’m not here at the moment, but don’t hang up.  Leave me a message on this wretched contraption and if I can figure out how to work it, I’ll call you back.  Speak after the bleep and thank you for calling.” 

Despite her concern, Charlotte smiled to herself as she listened to Tom’s message, remembering him telling her how much he’d hated speaking into the machine.

“Hi Tom, it’s Charlotte.  I was just calling to check that everything’s OK with you.  Um, hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to come over for a while.  I’ll see you very soon.  Bye.”  She swiped the screen of her phone and took off her apron.  “Right, I’m going.  I’m sure everything’s OK, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t go and it wasn’t.”

Jess nodded in agreement.  “Of course.  Go on - I’ll hold the fort until you get back.”

As Charlotte tried to unchain her bike from the railings, she realised that her hands were shaking so much, she couldn’t get the key into the padlock. 
Please let him be OK
, she said to herself over and over again.  Just as the key slotted in, she heard the familiar whirr of a mobility scooter and turned to see Tom riding up the footpath, Pippin in his wake.  He came to a jerky stop, and as she caught his eye, he gave her a wide, gappy grin. 

Her relief was palpable.  Within seconds, she was blinking back tears and the shaking in her hands appeared to have travelled to her legs, which had suddenly become remarkably wobbly.

“Tom!  Oh, thank God – I’m so glad to see you!” she rushed over to him.  “Is everything OK?”  Taking his arm, she escorted him into the café.

“Well, apart from the fact that I missed my breakfast this morning, because I’ve been talking to the police for the best part of three hours, yes, everything’s fine,” Tom said, a little crossly.  He was a creature of habit, and hated anything to upset his routine.

“The police?” Jess and Charlotte said in unison.  “Why?”

“Because I’ve been trying to pacify Gabe Driscoll since 9.30 this morning.  He’s been in a terrible state since the police called at the hotel and carted Samantha off.  They wouldn’t even let him go with her – told him they wanted to question her on her own, and that they’d drop her back when they’d finished.  I had to leave him in the end – he’s gone back to the hotel to wait for her.”

“Why have they taken Samantha away?” Charlotte asked.

Tom shrugged his shoulders.  “No idea.  They just said that they wanted to question her down at the station about the murder.  Now, can I have a cup of coffee and my usual, please?  And can you put a little extra smoked salmon on the muffin?  I’m very hungry after waiting so long for my breakfast.”

“Coming right up,” Charlotte and Jess sprung into action and before long, Tom was tucking hungrily into his food.

“I wonder why the police have taken Samantha in for questioning?” Jess said in a low voice.  “Maybe they’ve had some new information?”  She paused, then said dramatically, “You don’t think
she
did it, do you?”

“I doubt it,” replied Charlotte.  “But then again, who knows?  I don’t know Samantha or Gabe very well, but neither of them strike me as cold-blooded killers.  Quite honestly, I’m having a hard time believing that
anyone
I know could have murdered someone – it’s such a horrible feeling.”

“I know, but seeing as we know most people around here, it stands to reason that one of them isn’t quite the person we thought they were,” said Jess.

Charlotte felt a shiver go through her, and she carried on slicing tomatoes. 

ººººººº

Late that afternoon, Nathan dropped in to the café after a visit to
The Lady Samantha. 
Apart from the group of surfers sitting out on the terrace finishing their drinks, the café was empty. 

“Am I too late for a coffee?  I won’t keep you long?”

“Charlotte, there’s a TV star in our midst,” Jess called through to the kitchen.  “Shall I see if I can get you his autograph?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Nathan grinned as he settled himself onto a barstool.  “Black coffee please, a strong one.” 

Charlotte came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the towel that was tucked into her apron.  It was almost 6.15 pm, and she was looking forward to closing up and taking the weight off her aching feet.  Jess was meeting up with some friends for a drink later, and had asked her if she wanted to join them. 

“I’m sorry to be such an old maid, but all I’m looking forward to doing tonight is sitting in front of the TV, and eating pasta,” Charlotte had said, dreaming of the bubble bath she was going to run herself as soon as she got home.

However, on seeing Nathan, she suddenly felt remarkably chipper.  “You can get off if you want to, Jess.  I’m sure those guys won’t be too long finishing their drinks.”

“Are you sure?  This’ll be the second time I’ll have left you to lock up on your own recently,” Jess said, frowning. 

“Well, you’re the only one counting!” Charlotte laughed.  “Of course I’m sure – go on, go and have fun like girls our age are supposed to!”   

“OK then, I will!  But I’ll bring those empty bottles inside first.  I think the guys have just finished.”

Right on cue, the surfers got up to leave.  “Hey, see you tomorrow,” they called out to Jess and Charlotte.  “Hey, dude!  Good to see you,” Cody, the chattiest of the group came inside to shake hands with Nathan, whom he’d met when he and the rest of his friends had been asked if they’d seen anything suspicious around the time of the murder.  

“You too,” Nathan had the good grace not to correct the young man.  He wasn’t one to stand on ceremony and quite frankly, unless someone was being a royal pain in his backside, he couldn’t care less about titles, or pulling rank.   

“Anyways, see you around – we’re off to, like, see if we can catch us some tubes,” said Cody, referring to the waves that were every surfer’s dream.

“See you tomorrow,” Jess and Charlotte chorused as he ran to catch up with his friends.

“And on that note,” said Jess, as she took her jacket from the coat-rack, “I’ll see
you
tomorrow too.  And I might even see you … dude.”  She burst out laughing as she walked out of the café – Cody addressing the town’s Chief Inspector as ‘dude’ was too funny for words. 

Nathan laughed too, and Charlotte grinned as she walked over to sit with him.  She touched his arm lightly and hoisted herself onto a barstool.  “So, how are things going with the investigation?”

“Well,” he stirred his coffee and gazed thoughtfully into the cup.  “There
have
been a couple of developments, one of which you may already know about, but one which you definitely will not. 

“The first is that Samantha Driscoll was brought in this morning for further questioning.  The second is that the reason she was brought in for questioning is because when officers searched Blake’s hotel room, they found some blonde hairs that matched the DNA sample Mrs. Driscoll gave us.  The fact that she has denied knowing Blake all along makes me very suspicious.  Now, I’m not saying she’s guilty of murder, but she’s certainly guilty of lying, and as you know, I don’t take kindly to people who lie to me when I’m trying to solve a case.”  

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