The Killing in the Café

NINETEEN

Unfortunately that seemed to be the full extent of Binnie’s information. Having been told that Josie was in Brighton for the day, Amos Green had left Polly’s Cake Shop. Where he went next, nobody knew. Whether he then met the person who shot him in some prearranged venue, or returned to Polly’s to be murdered there, were questions that raised considerable frustration in Carole and Jude.

Before Christmas intervened they did make a couple of investigation-related phone calls. Jude rang the flat above the café, hoping to make contact with Josie Achter, but only got an answering machine. Later in the day she got a response to her message from Rosalie. Her mother was not in a rented flat, she was in a hotel in Hove. She didn’t want Rosalie to tell anyone which hotel and she had just changed the number of her mobile phone. The meaning was pretty clear – Josie Achter did not wish to be contacted, least of all by anyone from Fethering.

‘It’s just,’ said Jude, ‘in connection with the body that was found on Fethering Beach.’

‘Oh?’ asked Rosalie. ‘In what way?’

‘On the afternoon of Saturday the third of October, the dead man was actually seen in Polly’s Cake Shop.’

‘Was he?’ Rosalie Achter’s voice was bleached of all emotion. ‘Do the police know that?’

‘Apparently not.’

‘Hm. Are you going to tell them?

‘Don’t feel any great urgency to.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

‘Why do you say that, Rosalie?’

‘Oh, I got into a bit of trouble with the police while I was a student. Let’s just say I don’t have a very high opinion of them and certainly wouldn’t go out of my way to give them any help.’

‘Gotcha.’

‘Who is your witness, though? Who saw him in Polly’s?’

Instinctive caution made Jude reply, ‘I don’t think that’s important.’

‘I think it could be very important.’

‘Perhaps. My contacting your mother about it could also be important.’

‘What do you mean, Jude? What game are you playing?’

And Jude realized that she was playing a game. Which was out of character for her. Normally she went at things directly. But having started on this unfamiliar route, she pursued it. ‘I was just thinking, Rosalie … I would trade you the name of my witness … for your mother’s new mobile number.’

‘Forget it!’ said Rosalie Achter. And the phone was slammed down.

Carole and Jude did briefly discuss whether they should pass on their new information to Janice Green. ‘But she was so adamant about wanting that chapter of her life closed,’ said Carole.

‘Yes. Alternatively she did suggest we give any new information we get to the police.’

‘Yes, yes.’ Carole was torn between the principles which had been inculcated into her at the Home Office and her natural instinct for secrecy. ‘I suppose we should.’

‘On the other hand,’ said Jude, letting her friend off the hook, ‘it’d be a bit rotten for Binnie to have the police hassling her, wouldn’t it?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Carole with gratitude. ‘You’re right.’

And then Christmas intervened. And though Jude had hoped for a low-key celebration, spending the inside of ‘The Big Day’ with some friends in Hastings, there still seemed to be a lot of preparations that required making. And a lot of clients who needed alternative therapy to strengthen them for the invasion of uncongenial relatives which lay ahead.

For Carole, always a bit wary that Christmas would draw attention to the essential loneliness of her life, this year was different. She had been asked by Stephen and Gaby to come up to Fulham on Christmas morning and to stay until Boxing Day evening. This would mean spending the best part of two days with her pair of beautiful grandchildren. Though she wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, Carole was chuffed to bits at the prospect.

In the few days running up to Christmas, Polly’s Cake Shop did a roaring trade. Phoebe Braithwaite’s Volunteer Rota worked an absolute treat, and the many locals who went to check out the new facilities were delighted by the efficient (and rather classier than before) service provided by the Joannas or Samanthas in their trim French navy tunics.

Hammo, working out his notice, was as efficient as ever – and generously helpful too in showing the volunteers who’d be taking over from him how everything worked. Binnie, however (who Phoebe Braithwaite thought did not suit the new image for Polly’s waitresses), was delegated to work out her notice washing up out of sight in the kitchen. Though she made no visible demur at this demotion, people who knew Binnie Swales well would recognize exactly how much she was seething beneath her placid exterior.

And Sara Courtney hadn’t been seen in Polly’s Cake Shop since the relaunch.

So Jude was only slightly surprised when, the day after Boxing Day, she had a call from her. ‘I’m sorry, Jude. I’ve got this terrible back pain.’

‘But mentally okay?’

‘Yes … yes,’ came the uncertain reply. ‘Pretty much.’

‘All still good with Kent?’

‘Yes. Very good. We spent Christmas together. With his kids as well. And I met his ex-wife briefly when she handed them over.’

Jude hadn’t known that Kent was a father. Or a divorcé. But few men were going to get to Kent Warboys’ age without carrying the baggage of some marriage or long-term relationship. Jude reckoned she knew what had caused the tension in Sara Courtney’s back. They made an appointment for the next day, the Thursday.

Her client’s back was very tense, but Jude could feel the tightness was already going. The stress which had caused the pain arose from seeing Kent Warboys’ wife and spending time with his children. It had been quite a lot to ask of Sara so early into their relationship. Now that she was no longer in their presence, the tension was draining naturally out of her.

As a result the treatment required did not really call on Jude’s healing skills. It was just a basic back massage. And once it was completed, Sara felt instantly better.

Jude made them both a cup of green tea. Then she said, ‘Incidentally, I had some corroboration for what you saw on the third of October.’ Sara looked confused. ‘Amos Green. He was seen, still very much alive, in Polly’s that afternoon.’

‘Oh. Was he?’

‘So, while not exactly being proof that you saw his dead body, it does at least link him to the site where you found it.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Binnie saw him in the café. She served him an Americano.’ Jude had no inhibition about naming her source to Sara.

‘Oh, did she?’ There wasn’t a lot of interest in the words. ‘I have, incidentally, decided that I did definitely see the body. It wasn’t a hallucination.’

‘And what made you decide that? More proof?’

‘No, nothing like that. I’m just mentally in so much better a place that I can tell reality from hallucination. And what I saw in that store room was real.’

‘Good. I’m glad your confidence has come back.’ There was a silence. ‘Does this mean that you’re thinking of going to the police about what you saw?’ A firm shake of the head. ‘Why not?’

‘For the reason I just told you. I’m mentally in so much better a place that I don’t want to threaten my new-found mental equilibrium by getting involved in police interviews.’

Carole might not have approved, but it was a good enough answer for Jude. ‘And have you still got your one piece of solid proof? The handkerchief with Amos Green’s blood on it?’

‘Yes. I’ve kept thinking of throwing it away, but every time something stops me.’

Jude didn’t comment on this but was secretly pleased. She had a feeling that that piece of evidence might at some stage prove vital to the investigation. The thought prompted another: that what she and Carole were doing hardly qualified for the title of an ‘investigation’. Though they had assembled a number of tantalizing details, their enquiries were lacking a sense of forward momentum. She wondered if it was just because Christmas had put everything on hold, but she was rather afraid that wasn’t the reason. The case was just slipping away from them.

She grinned at Sara. ‘Anyway, I’m glad to hear that everything’s going well with Kent. And that you’ve come through the baptism of fire.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Meeting his ex-wife and children.’

‘Ah. Yes. Well, you’re right. It was quite stressful.’

‘So your back told me.’

Sara chuckled. ‘I have a very articulate back.’

‘You certainly do. So … with Kent in place … there are no clouds on your horizon?’

‘Fewer clouds, anyway.’

‘How do you mean?’

Sara grimaced. ‘Well, the fact is … yes, with Kent things’re going fine. Better than I ever imagined things going with a man. Certainly better than they were with the last one.’

‘Not difficult, from what you’ve said about him.’

‘No, you’re right. Now it seems incongruous that I stayed with him so long; that I actually wanted to have children with him. It’s amazing how volatile we are, how we can totally convince ourselves of the rightness of something that is so obviously wrong. I do find human nature confusing.’

‘I think we all do.’

‘Hm. Anyway, so as regards my love life, no clouds on my horizon.’ Thinking perhaps this was too bold an assertion, she backtracked a little. ‘Well, no clouds at the moment. Probably some will come floating by soon.’

‘No reason why they should. Some things in life just work.’

‘Sadly that hasn’t been my experience too often.’

‘But your life is changing.’

‘Hope so.’ The grin that accompanied these words twisted itself into a grimace. ‘It’s my work life that’s not so good, though. Well, nonexistent. And that does frustrate me. I’ve been working for myself ever since I left school. And not having a project of my own to concentrate on is really getting me down.’

‘I see that Binnie and Hammo are working out their notice at Polly’s.’

‘Yes. And you’re wondering why I’m not doing the same …?’

‘Had crossed my mind, yes.’

‘I’ll tell you why. Because Phoebe Braithwaite is the rudest woman I have ever met!’

‘Ah.’

‘She made no secret of the fact that she thought I ought to forgo my earnings during my month’s notice. She said, “It’s different for Binnie and Hammo – they’re ordinary working people. But you’re a different class from them. You should be taking part in this Community Project, not leaching away funds from it. If you are still keen to work here, then I can put you on my Volunteer Rota.” “Unpaid?” I asked. “Of course unpaid,” she replied. “That’s what ‘volunteer’ means. Don’t you have any sense of community?” And I’m afraid that was when I really lost my rag.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘I told her I had always earned my own living, and my hands-on experience in the catering business meant that I was extremely highly qualified. And nobody was going to get the advantage of my skills for free. Then she had the nerve to say, “I don’t know why you’re getting so het up about it. Now you’re shacked up with Kent Warboys, it’s not as if you need to work.” Well, that did it. I stormed out – and will probably never go into Polly’s Cake Shop again!’

‘I can understand that,’ said Jude.

‘But at the same time,’ said Sara, quickly calming down, ‘I’m quite sorry about that.’

‘Oh?’

‘I really enjoyed working at Polly’s. Even under Josie. She wasn’t the most friendly of employers, but she recognized what I could do. She kept giving me more responsibility. I think I could have ended up managing the place … if this bloody Community Project hadn’t come along.’

‘And is this a source of friction between you and Kent? Because, after all, he’s been a great supporter of running Polly’s as a Community Project.’

‘So far we’ve managed to keep off the subject.’

‘Long may that last.’

‘You betcha. I’m not going to threaten the best relationship I’ve ever had by arguing over Polly’s Cake Shop. No, once everyone has gone back to work after the long Christmas break, I will seriously set about the business of finding myself a job.’

Jude couldn’t let it alone. ‘And you’re still not planning to tell the police about what you saw?’

‘I’ve told you, no. And in fact now I have a much stronger reason to keep what I saw to myself.’

‘Oh?’

‘It wouldn’t just be me who’d get caught up in the police questioning.’

‘Really? Then who?’

‘Kent told me he used to know Amos Green.’