Broom for One More Page 7
“Do you think Mabel could have killed him?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have thought so, but someone did it, didn’t they? I can’t think of anyone who would do it, but I must be wrong because someone did it. He is dead.”
Chapter 10
As I walked into the funeral home, I sneezed violently.
Oleander turned to me. “Are you all right, Goldie?”
“I know he had friends, but this looks like a florist shop, not a chapel,” I said before I sneezed again. “Lilies usually make me sneeze, and I think every lily in Queensland must be in this room.”
Athanasius guided us to seats at the back of the room. “I was surprised when Max texted you yesterday to say the funeral was on so soon.”
Oleander nodded. “Well, it’s not as if they were investigating some obscure form of African poison or anything like that. He was shot. That’s not something you can overlook, so I suppose the police felt they could release the body soon.”
I looked around at all the flowers in the room. “It seems he was popular after all.”
“Not with everyone,” Athanasius pointed out.
“True.”
“Is Max coming?” Oleander asked me.
I was aware that my face fell, so I at once tried to plaster a happy look across my face. “I don’t know.” I gave up all pretence, and added, “I think he’s avoiding me.”
Oleander frowned. “But didn’t you say that he took you home after you found the body? From the police station, I mean?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Sure, and then he came over again that night, but he’s been avoiding me ever since.”
“If he was avoiding you, he wouldn’t have texted you,” Athanasius said.
Oleander rolled her eyes. “Typical man thing to say.” She shot Athanasius a glare, and then said, “Goldie means he’s avoiding her in person.”
I looked around the chapel. The walls were made of expansive glass, and the ceilings were high and pitched. I imagined the huge trees outside were all that stopped the chapel from becoming a hothouse. Of course, the air conditioning helped.
“It’s a shame you didn’t bring Persnickle,” Oleander lamented.
I rubbed my forehead. “We’ve been through this. I can’t bring a wombat to a funeral.”
Oleander pursed her lips. “I know that! And as I kept telling you, I didn’t mean you should bring him to the actual service. I think you should have held him outside, and then you would have been able to speak to the ghost. Of course, the ghost would attend his own funeral.”
“No doubt,” I said dryly, “and that would have been fine had the funeral been in East Bucklebury, but this is the middle of the city, and it would not have been practical for me to sit outside with Persnickle.”
“Now we will all have to keep our eyes peeled for any evidence,” Athanasius said in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “Even if something seems insignificant, it could prove important later. From where we are sitting, we should have a good view of everyone.”
I opened the commemorative brochure. “It says it’s a closed casket funeral. Well, I suppose that’s not surprising under the circumstances.”
Oleander disagreed. “It’s amazing what they can do with cosmetics these days.”
We were there early, and we had plenty of chances to survey the room. Some dreary music started, so I figured that the service could not be too far away. People were still filing in.
A tall, well-dressed woman, overly tanned and with a face that gave a nod to high-quality plastic surgery, walked down the aisle. She was entirely overdressed for the occasion. It looked as though she was going to a Melbourne Cup party in the Members’ Stand.
Oleander elbowed me in the ribs. “That’s Chase’s wife, Bree.”
“I thought that’s who she was,” I whispered back. “And there’s Georgia Garrison.”
Georgia filed in, clutching her large handbag to her chest. Her head was down, and it seemed as if she was crying. She was accompanied by a couple, the man patting her on the back. They took seats near the front of the chapel.
Five minutes later, people were still filing in, although it seemed most had already arrived. “Most of these people are from East Bucklebury,” Athanasius said.
“Yes, of course they are,” Oleander said. “Chase did work there after all, and just about everyone in East Bucklebury has at least one pet.”
“I don’t think you’re in a very good mood today, Oleander,” Athanasius said. “Would you like a lemon tart?” He pulled one from his manbag.
Oleander narrowed her eyes, but graciously accepted one. He offered me one, but I declined.
I sneezed again, and then said, “I’m just going to duck out for a breath of fresh air. These lilies really are affecting my sinuses.”
“Don’t be long,” Oleander said. “The service is about to start.”
I hurried out the door and breathed in the clean, fresh, sea air. I dabbed under my eyes with a tissue, careful not to smudge my mascara.
A man, head down and walking slowly, approached me. He was clearly the minister, unless it was someone with unusual taste in clothes. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.
I waved one hand at him. “I didn’t know Chase Evans. I’m allergic to lilies.”
He looked surprised, and then said, “I’m gay and my wife doesn’t know. We have three children, and I’m having an affair with a bricklayer. He is married, too, and his wife doesn’t know he’s gay, either.”
I didn’t know what to say. I just stared at him.
“I have a terrible case of athlete’s foot,” he continued.
I finally found my voice. “Oh, I’m sorry for your predicament.”
“It’s not my only predicament,” he hurried to say. “The church wouldn’t mind me being gay, because I’m from the Uniting Church and they would be completely fine with it, it’s just that I don’t know how to break the news to my wife.”
“That’s understandable.” I realised he was telling me this because of the truth spell. I wondered how many people it would affect, and whether or not it would lead me to the murderer.
The minister was still speaking. “I’m usually a good minister, although I always ask for discounts. I think people should give me discounts because I’m a minister, don’t you? My wife and I recently bought a house out at Hope Island, and I asked the lawyer for discounts. The firm refused to give me any, so I changed firms. I think ministers should be given discounts because we work so hard for our money and we don’t make that much.”
I nodded.
“I have bad breath, not just athlete’s foot,” he added, and then hurried away with his hand firmly clamped over his mouth.
I put my hands over my ears and hurried back into the chapel.
“You were away a long time,” Oleander said. “I was beginning to get worried about you.”
“Remind me not to speak to anyone else,” I said with some trepidation, watching the minister take the pulpit. I certainly hoped he wouldn’t share with everyone what he had just shared with me, for his sake.
Luckily, that was not the case. The minister made the usual speech about the deceased—what a wonderful person he had been and how he was dearly missed by everyone. I half expected Athanasius to stand up and say, “Not everyone,” but to my relief, he remained silent.
“When it’s over, speak to anyone who could be a suspect and they might confess to you,” Oleander said. “Do you think the truth spell is still working?”
I nodded vigorously, just as the minister invited the victim’s wife to take the stand.
She, too, delivered a lengthy speech about how wonderful her husband had been and what a happy marriage they’d had. She said they hadn’t wanted children but instead preferred to adopt dogs and cats. She went on and on about her wonderful marriage.
“I think people who say that are usually exaggerating,” Oleander whispered to me.
I had to agree. Chase’s w
ife finally burst into a flood of dramatic tears which I, perhaps unkindly, suspected were crocodile tears. I half expected her to pretend to faint, but she walked back to her seat, hunched over, while other people stood up and crowded around her.
The minister invited a representative of the vet clinic to speak. The man who was sitting next to Georgia Garrison stood up and hurried to the pulpit. He said that Chase was a wonderful person and he had been a wonderful boss. With some emotion, he said Chase had been very kind to animals and was a skilled surgeon who had saved many lives.
The minister then invited another man to take the stand. He was introduced as Chase’s long-term, closest friend.
This man was clearly an accomplished public speaker, and held everyone’s attention. He told hilarious anecdotes about the times he’d had with Chase, and had most people in the chapel laughing. He said that Chase would have wanted to be remembered for how he was in life.
Apparently, the victim didn’t have any relatives, because the minister took the stand again and announced that Chase would be cremated. The casket slid behind a curtain and the curtain closed. Just as it did, the widow burst into loud wailing. People leapt to their feet and comforted her once more.
I leant across to Oleander and Athanasius. “Cremated—that’s suspicious, isn’t it? It’s a good way to destroy evidence.”
“But the police would have taken all the samples they needed,” Athanasius said.
Oleander waggled her finger at him. “You never know, you just never know.”
“Maybe his widow asked for him to be cremated,” Athanasius said.
My hand flew to my mouth. “Yes! They didn’t have any children. Surely his wife is the sole heir to his fortune.”
“What makes you think he was wealthy?” Athanasius said.
“He was a vet!” I said. “Haven’t you ever received a vet bill? They cost an arm and a leg! And didn’t you get a good look at his wife? She’s had very good plastic surgery, top notch in fact.”
Oleander laughed. “This is the Gold Coast. It’s top-notch Plastic Surgery Central as far as Australia goes.”
“That might be the case, but it still wouldn’t be cheap,” I said. “I’m sure they had a wealthy lifestyle.”
“Yes, they each owned an expensive car,” Athanasius said, “but then again, they hadn’t spent all their money on children. Children are very expensive, even more so as they get older.”
Before I had time to file away that gem of wisdom for further consideration, a high-pitched scream erupted from the front of the room.
Chapter 11
We jumped to our feet. “It’s his wife,” several people said. Judging by the other people bending over and staring at the ground, I figured Bree Evans had finally pretended to faint. There was something so utterly fake about her that I couldn’t bring myself to give her the benefit of the doubt.
The minister tapped the microphone, and seconds later, a high-pitched sound reverberated around the room. “Everyone is welcome to join us next door for refreshments,” the minister said. He hurried over to where the widow was lying.
“Let’s get to those refreshments fast before the others scoff off the best ones,” Athanasius said. He took off out the door at a great rate of knots.
“I didn’t know he could move that fast,” I said to Oleander, as we both hurried after him.
She laughed. “It’s amazing what he’ll do for food.”
The aroma of coffee hit me as soon as I walked through the door. “Oh, that’s why there are so many East Bucklebury residents here,” I said without thinking, and then slammed my hand over my mouth. “That sounded so callous. At first, I thought they were all here to pay their respects to their local vet, but then I thought, rather unkindly, that they’re here to get free coffee.”
Oleander nodded. “You could well be right. Have you noticed that the East Bucklebury residents are all standing around the coffee machines?”
I had been to funerals in the past where they only had an urn of hot water and dreadful instant coffee, but in this case there were several large drip filter machines set up. The East Bucklebury residents were filling their cups with glee.
“You need to speak to the victim’s wife,” Oleander said.
“Why me?” I said. “Can’t we divide this up? Take a suspect each?”
“The truth spell only works for you, of course,” Oleander said.
My face fell. She did have a point. “Okay then, there’s the victim’s wife, Bree, the vet nurses, Georgia and Adrian, and the best friend, Nico North. Have I missed anyone?”
Athanasius and Oleander exchanged glances, and then looked at me. “No, we don’t think so,” they both said in unison.
“Okay then, I’ll start with his wife,” I said.
Bree had been shown to a seat at the back of the room and was fanning herself with a commemorative pamphlet. A man was patting her on the back. When he left, presumably to fetch her a drink, I hurried over. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Ms Chase.”
“Bree,” she said.
“Bree,” I repeated. “I’m Goldie Bloom, a new resident of East Bucklebury.”
She looked at me with renewed interest. “You were the one who found my husband?”
I nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m a bit of a tart,” she said. “I’ve been having affairs for years, but I wouldn’t divorce my husband because he was a big cash cow to me. I’ve been pretending to be sorry, partly because it’s the thing a wife should do, and partly because those idiot detectives are here watching me like hawks.”
“They are?” I looked around the room and saw them skulking in a corner. “I hadn’t even noticed them.”
She was still talking. “I have affairs with anyone I can get my hands on. I prefer younger men, of course. I’ve had my face all jacked up with plastic surgery again and again and again, but it looks really good, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it does look awfully good,” I said truthfully.
She pressed on. “Nothing on me that you see is natural. I paid for everything on me. You’d be surprised what parts of me aren’t real.” She broke off and laughed. “That’s what you’ve got to do at the Gold Coast. Anyway, I wanted to divorce my husband and now that he’s dead, I’ll inherit everything, and I do love our house at Sanctuary Cove. It’s absolutely beautiful. Have you ever been to Sanctuary Cove?”
I had to admit that I hadn’t.
“You should. It’s just next to Hope Island. I’m glad I’ll never have to set foot in East Bucklebury again. It’s a complete dump of a place. It shouldn’t even be called the Gold Coast, because it’s too far north. It’s a joke that they included it in the Gold Coast. I’m a very superficial person who cares about nothing but my appearance. Hmm, I do care about my dogs and cats, but I don’t care about anyone else. Now I will have more money to spend on my appearance.”
I was about to ask her if she knew who killed her husband, when Detective Power suddenly manifested at my side. “Do you two know each other?” he asked as he loomed over me.
“No,” we both said.
“I was just telling Bree how sorry I am for her loss,” I said.
“It seems that you were both having a jolly good conversation.”
“Bree was just telling me how upset she is,” I said, and Bree winked at me. I excused myself and made my way back to Oleander.
“Did she confess?” Oleander asked me.
I shook my head. “She just went on and on about how superficial she is and how she’s had affairs, and stuff like that. I was about to ask her straight out if she knew who killed him, but that’s when that dreadful Detective Power turned up.”
“Can you go back and ask her after he leaves?” Athanasius asked me.
I shook my head. “I’m afraid not. The truth spell only seems to work the first time I speak to someone. It stops working after that.”
Athanasius folded his arms over his chest. “Oh. That’s a terrible nuisance.”
Oleander grabbed my arm. “There’s that vet nurse, Adrian Young, isn’t it? Go over and speak to him now.”
“I haven’t had a chance to eat anything yet,” I protested.
She grabbed the nearest cake, stuck it on a plate, and thrust it into my hands. “Off you go!”
I hurried over to the vet nurse who was standing at the coffee machine. I was glad he was alone. “Hi, I’m Goldie Bloom.” I stuck out my hand. “I’m afraid I was the one who found your boss.”
His eyes shot skyward. “You’re the one who found the body!” He looked rather afraid of me, as if he thought I did it.
“I didn’t murder him,” I said quickly.
He took a step backwards. “No, of course not. Of course not.”
“The police will know that any day because they tested for gunshot residues.”
His face visibly relaxed. “Oh yes. Georgia told me all about that.”
I nodded.
“I’m having an affair with a married woman. I stole some money. I’ve got a criminal record, and I’ve been stealing money in bits and pieces from the vet clinic. I’ve always intended to pay it back, of course. My intentions are always good. It’s just that I never seem to have enough. Every month when I get paid, I intend to pay it back, but my money always seems to go on bills. Electricity has gone up so much lately, and even though I’m on an unlimited free text and unlimited free calls phone plan, it still all adds up, you know? Living is just so expensive, isn’t it?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but he pushed on. “Yes, I’m a thief and a liar, and like I said, I’ve been having an affair with a married woman. To make matters worse, I’m married, too. My wife doesn’t know I’m having an affair.”
He passed to wipe his brow. “I had big ears when I was a child and everyone at school called me Big Ears. They didn’t bully me, mind you. It was an affectionate term.” He paused to draw breath. “I used to steal things out of people’s lunches when I was a kid. I didn’t steal a whole lunch from anybody, just the nice bits from it. I left the sandwiches. When I went to church, I pretended to put money on the plate, but I actually took money. No one ever noticed, or if they did, they didn’t say anything. You should try it. It’s quite easy to do.”