A Killer Wedding, page 8
part #2 of Charleton House Mystery Series
‘I’d tell Joe, but you know what the internet is like. This sort of thing happens all the time. It’s probably just a jealous rival who’d do this anonymously, but was too cowardly to confront Nathan face to face.’
‘Probably,’ she agreed.
‘Is any of it true, do you think?’
Yeshim shook her head. ‘No, I’ve known Nathan for a couple of years and he’s had nothing but satisfied customers. Plus it’s ridiculous to claim the photos weren’t his. I was there when he took a lot of the shots at Charleton, there weren’t any other photographers around. I agree with you, it’s probably just someone stirring up trouble. I know that Nathan made a few enemies along the way. He was a savvy businessman as well as an artist; he wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of him and could be a bit direct in his approach if he didn’t like something that was going on. Wouldn’t take any prisoners, that sort of thing. But the bottom line is that he was good, very good. He didn’t undercut people, he wasn’t underhand in his methods. He was the best in the business and that’s something that less talented people just can’t compete with.’
‘Well he met his match with Harriet Smedley, that’s for sure.’
Yeshim laughed. ‘See, he was human like the rest of us. Maybe she killed him and planned to bury him under the chapel floor, I wouldn’t put it past her.’
‘Maybe who killed him? Have you solved the case for me?’ Joe smiled down at us. ‘Morning, ladies, can I feel my ears burning?’
‘You certainly can. Yeshim has something to show you; I’ll get you a drink.’
I left them to talk and watched them as I poured Joe a coffee. I could have sworn he had lost weight. Joe had always been on the ‘cuddly’ side, but it looked as if DS Harnby was keeping him on his toes.
As I returned, Yeshim was getting up to leave. ‘Joe’s going to take a look,’ she told me. ‘See you later.’
‘Is it anything?’ I asked him.
‘Maybe. I’ll get the tech team to see if they can identify darkraven24, but it isn’t unusual on social media and they’re not threatening, just trying to discredit him.’
‘Are you getting anywhere with the case?’
Joe shrugged. ‘Not really, and I need things to start moving. DS Harnby is getting jumpy. She’s still trying to prove herself and every time something happens here, she goes into overdrive. Having a murder in the most high-profile building on your patch is never good, everyone is watching you.’
‘Hope she’s not taking it out on you.’
‘Not yet, but I’m treading carefully just in case.’ He took a gulp of coffee. ‘You know, I’ve heard that coffee goes really well with…’
Before he had a chance to finish, I stood up, rolling my eyes so far into my head I’d have been surprised if he didn’t hear them clang as they landed somewhere near the back of my neck. I returned a minute later with a pumpkin and cinnamon cupcake. He grinned at me like a kid who had just been given the Christmas present he’d written to Santa requesting.
With his mouth full of cake, he mumbled, ‘I have a question.’ Fortunately he waited until he had swallowed before continuing; I didn’t fancy being covered in a spray of crumbs. ‘When you were about to head out through the Antler Room, did you see Kristian in the area?’
‘Amelia’s brother?’ I thought for a moment. ‘No, I don’t recall seeing him since the dinner the night before. Well, not until he walked into the pub after the murder. Why, is he a suspect?’
Joe was licking the cream off his fingers. ‘Possibly. It turns out that he was in a fight with Nathan about fifteen years ago, we found it on file. No charges were pressed, but he did receive a warning. He claims that it was a drunken thing after Nathan and Amelia split up. It was her idea to split and Nathan spent the next six months trying to get her back. He turned up drunk at a party she was attending with Patrick, got a bit mouthy and Kristian stepped in. Apparently that was the end of it and the two men hadn’t seen each other since.’
‘Harold didn’t mention that to me.’
‘What?’
‘The fight. He said they’d been a couple, but didn’t let on that it was anything other than an amicable split, although I didn’t ask for details.’
Joe was looking at me through unblinking eyes. ‘Why were you discussing Nathan? You’ve not reopened the Sophie Lockwood Private Detective Agency again, have you? I did tell you not to get involved.’
‘We were talking about him in the pub after the wedding – what else do you think we were going to talk about? It had been a pretty memorable day.’
‘Okay, I’ll take that, but no probing.’ I pretended to salute. ‘That’s my job, and I have something else to run by you. We’re trying to track down Nathan’s third camera. One was over his shoulder and trapped underneath him, a second was near his hand, but I’ve been told he always had a spare in his camera bag. The bag was open and near him, so it looks like he was disturbed when he went to get something. Did you see it anywhere?’
‘No I didn’t, so I’d say it was either stolen before he was killed, or it was taken by the killer. But why would they take it? It can’t be the reason for the murder, unless they were really stupid. It’s a risky place to kill just for a camera.’
Joe nodded. ‘Agreed. We don’t think it was the motive, unless there was something on the camera the killer wanted to conceal; it was most likely panic. But then they’ve got to get rid of it, and no one has reported seeing someone acting suspiciously with a camera. In fact there’s no reports of anyone acting suspiciously anywhere in the house. No one was seen in an area they weren’t supposed to be in. Your security team has confirmed there were no unusual activities on CCTV in the house or any of the outside areas. It’s like someone was spirited into the Antler Gallery and out again.’
‘But it was a busy area: servers coming and going with food, people like Mark and me taking a shortcut. There was lots of opportunity for someone to go in there, kill Nathan and leave.’
Joe sat back in his chair, looking deflated. ‘And that’s the problem, there was a lot of activity. We’ve spoken to the catering team – it’s made up of people who work together regularly and they all recognised their colleagues. The wedding guests are accounted for, as much as that’s possible, and the house was closed to the public by that point. There is one thing, though: how well do you know Gregg?’
‘Chef Gregg? Professionally, very well. I wondered if he would be a suspect – are you looking at him because he was the first to find the body?’
‘No. Well partly. One of the servers says she saw him arguing with Nathan not long before he found the body. Don’t most chefs have a temper?’
It seemed my earlier thoughts hadn’t been wrong, and that worried me.
‘Stereotypically yes, if you spend all your time watching cooking shows on TV or those behind the scenes in failing restaurants documentaries. They’re in a high-stress role, but Gregg isn’t like that. He’s never lost control.’
‘You can’t think of any reason why he and Nathan could have argued? They were both local, might they have known each other?’
I thought back to my conversations with Gregg, but nothing came to mind. ‘Possibly, but he’s never mentioned him to me. I’ve never seen Gregg really lose his temper; he’s had the occasional argument and raised his voice, but nothing serious.’
‘Okay, well we’ll have to chat to him. The server was pretty adamant it was him and she’s worked events here for the last year, so it’s not a case of mistaken identity. She knows very well who Gregg is.’
‘Well, putting Gregg aside for one moment, as I don’t believe he’d do it, we’re looking for someone who knew the house or was part of the wedding party. That’s a lot of people. Is there anything else on file for Nathan? Anyone else annoyed at him enough to kill him?’
‘No, nothing. Hang on, what’s this “we’re looking for”?’
‘Sorry, slip of the tongue, nothing more.’
He eyed me suspiciously. ‘I hope so. Just make sure that if you have another one, Harnby is nowhere to be seen.’
I could have sworn he winked, but maybe he just had something in his eye.
I was still smiling to myself about Joe and his departing wink when I looked over at the door and my heart sank. Harriet Smedley, wearing a burgundy red tea-cosy hat, bustled in and straight to the counter.
‘One English breakfast tea, and a tea cake please. Which I will consume in the café.’ If she hadn’t made it clear that she wasn’t returning to the chapel, I would have offered her a takeout cup just to see the response.
‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘I hope you didn’t experience any more issues with the wedding party.’
‘No, no. It seems that everyone followed the rules accordingly. The… incident… was of course very sad. I hope the young man is at peace.’
There followed an uncomfortable silence as I prepared her order.
‘I was disappointed by one of your staff, however.’
I paused, wondering what was coming next.
‘I was round the corner from the Garden Café before the unfortunate incident. I saw the photographer talking to one of your servers. She didn’t have her hair tied up, her shirt was un-tucked, and those trousers – they might be in fashion, but as far as I’m concerned, they were far too tight. She’s not in a fashion show. You really should keep an eye on that sort of thing, it’s not appropriate for somewhere as distinguished as Charleton House.’
And your choice of headwear is? I thought as she carried her tray to a table. It didn’t surprise me that she had been sniffing around the wedding on the off chance that someone had stepped out of line and she’d have something else to complain about. Reluctantly, I made a mental note to keep an eye on the servers at the next catering event. The last thing I needed was to give the delightful Harriet Smedley any more ammunition.
Despite Joe’s insistence that I leave the investigative work to the police, I was going to do no such thing. I was curious; more than that, I was fascinated. I wasn’t prepared to accept Gregg as a suspect, so that threw the field wide open and left us with an impossible situation. How had the impossible become possible? How could someone who was completely out of place go unnoticed in such a busy part of the house while a wedding was on? Everyone who works in Charleton House knows to be on the lookout for suspicious behaviour. The house is full of incredibly valuable objects and we are always checking that staff have their badges or passes on display and that no one has wandered into areas that are off limits. You even need a special pass to go behind the ropes that serve as a barrier between the public and some of the more precious objects and furniture. Charleton doesn’t have the most high-tech security set up, but what it does have is a lot of eyes on the ground, and on this day the eyes hadn’t seen anything unusual. I wanted to find out more.
I decided to start with Patrick and Amelia, the bride and groom. It seemed really odd that they would have Nathan as their wedding photographer. Not only was he Amelia’s ex-boyfriend, but he was someone who had caused enough of a problem that Kristian had stepped in and punched him. The newlyweds were staying in a cottage on the Charleton Estate, one of four cottages dotted about the grounds that could be hired by the public for holidays. They were beautifully renovated and their decor had been chosen by the Duchess herself. Amelia and Patrick were staying in Pheasant Cottage, which was along a gravel track about fifteen minutes’ drive from the house.
I waited until after lunch, and then with a large gift basket containing two portions of beef stew, a bottle of red wine and two enormous pieces of chocolate cake, I set off. It was a cold grey day and I turned the heating on full blast when I first got in the car. I had to hold myself back; I was keen to hear what they could tell me, but knew I had to keep to the speed limit. The last thing I needed was an ear bashing from security if they saw me shoot out of the car park at forty mph.
The track ran along the edge of a small valley, and at the end, with a wonderful view over one half of the estate and the river that wound its way along the bottom of the valley, sat the old worker’s cottage. The stone work had been cleaned and the window frames painted a pale green. I could see smoke coming out of the chimney and lights on inside.
I parked up and carried the basket to the door. Balancing it awkwardly on my hip, I used the brass door knocker that took the shape of a pheasant’s head. Amelia opened the door in jeans and a pale pink sweater, her blonde hair tied back, and as far as I could tell she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but she still looked beautiful and perfectly at home framed in the doorway of the cottage.
She looked momentarily confused, and then seemed to recognise me.
‘Oh, hello, you’re from the house, aren’t you?’
‘I’m Sophie, the catering manager. I thought I’d bring you this; I can’t imagine you’re in much of a mood to cook at the moment and it might help.’
She looked at the basket. ‘Thank you, come in. We’ve just got back from a walk and are warming up by the fire, come through.’
She led me into the small but cosy and stylishly decorated room. The furniture was all cream and had faux fur throws to curl up under. A large sheepskin rug lay in front of the fire, and minimalist artwork displayed views of the estate. A particularly impressive sketch of a stag was hanging over the fireplace.
Patrick sat by the fire, adding a piece of wood. He stood up as we walked in.
‘I remember you; you found Nathan’s body.’
‘Not really,’ I corrected him. ‘That was Gregg, my chef, but I was one of the first on the scene. I brought you this.’ I handed the basket over to him and he placed it on a coffee table, and together he and Amelia had a look through.
‘Thank you. We just opened a bottle of wine, can I get you a glass?’
I sat down and accepted a small glass of red wine. I felt like I was encroaching on a romantic afternoon, but I wasn’t going to stay any longer than I needed to.
‘How are you both? This isn’t the relaxing week you were hoping for, I’m sure.’
‘No.’ Amelia sat on the floor by the fire, leaning against Patrick’s legs as he sat in the armchair behind her. ‘We had booked the week here so we could spend time with family and friends before going on our honeymoon next weekend, make it a group holiday for everyone. Most of the cottages on site are being used by family members, but one or two have gone home early. We’re just trying to make the most of our time here.’
‘I have to say you seem remarkably calm. A lot of brides I’ve come across wouldn’t handle it so well.’ I was surprised; there was no sign of the bickering couple that I’d heard so much about and glimpsed at the dinner. Maybe this experience had calmed them down a bit, made them think about the important things in life.
Amelia looked up at Patrick and smiled. ‘I wasn’t so calm the last couple of days, I guess I’ve rather run out of energy.’
I watched Patrick stroke the back of his wife’s head. At least they seemed to have genuine affection for one another.
‘Had you seen Nathan much before the wedding?’
There was a second or two’s silence.
‘No.’ Amelia was looking down at the carpet and seemed to be picking at the threads. I noticed that Patrick had removed his hand from her hair. ‘He was a last-minute booking so we never actually met face to face until the night of the dinner, and after that we just left him to get on with the job.’
I sensed a change in the atmosphere. Not much, but enough to be discernible.
‘It’s handy that he was available on such short notice. Did your original photographer cancel?’ That was a complete guess on my part, but I couldn’t imagine a wedding of this size not having a photographer booked months in advance.
‘He did. He broke his leg mountain biking, but he recommended Nathan and, well, I knew he was good, so I called him.’
‘So you didn’t look for Nathan?’
‘No.’ Patrick sounded annoyed. ‘Of course we didn’t. Why would we want to? We hadn’t see him for years, and when we last saw him, well, let’s just say we didn’t part on good terms. But we needed someone fast and he was available, end of story.’ He emptied his wine glass. ‘It’s very nice of you to bring the food, Sophie, but we really need a quiet afternoon after everything that’s happened. I’m sure you understand.’
My cue to leave couldn’t have been clearer. Patrick shook my hand and left Amelia to walk me out.
‘Everyone at the house has been so kind, we’re really very grateful,’ she commented as she opened the door. ‘Thank you again for the gifts, it was really very sweet.’
She closed the door behind me. As I walked to the car, I thought about how all I’d managed to do was confirm that they knew Nathan and get a slight acknowledgement of the fight years ago, which the police were already aware of.
I was about to climb into the car when I heard the door to the cottage open. Amelia slipped out.
‘Sophie.’ As she got closer, she dropped her voice. ‘Sophie, I’m worried people might have got the wrong idea of Patrick.’ I was confused and my face must have shown it. ‘The argument we had before the dinner on Friday, I know people saw and heard us.’ I didn’t know anything about it, but I decided to pretend otherwise.
‘Yes, I did wonder. I’m afraid I heard most of it and it doesn’t look good, especially now. Why don’t you tell me what really happened?’
Amelia glanced over at the door. She pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her back pocket and lit one, taking a long drag. I stepped back, wanting to avoid the ghastly smelling smoke.
‘I told Patrick I wanted to ask your advice about local places to eat so I can’t be out here long.’ She took another drag. ‘Nathan was a last-minute booking, but we had about two weeks’ notice so although I was limited in choice, I could have probably got someone else if I’d really tried. But Patrick and I had just had a huge row. I knew Nathan worked weddings here, so I decided to see if he was free. I figured that would be my way of getting back at Patrick. By the time I’d calmed down and realised how stupid it was, I’d already signed the contract. I told Patrick just before the dinner, before he saw Nathan, and that was why he was so angry and didn’t like having his picture taken that night. I don’t blame him, it was a stupid thing to do. Fortunately he was okay the next day. I know that he said some awful things about Nathan,’ I nodded as if I’d heard them, ‘but he’s not a violent man. I promise.’
