Murder at the Maples: A Flora Lively Mystery (27 page)

She gave up on Marshall and turned to Mr Felix. ‘I’ve got to get to Bridgnorth right away. Ideas?’

A smile crept over the old man’s face. ‘As a matter of fact, I have a great idea.’

Chapter 17

‘You drive quite fast, don’t you?’

Flora was clinging to the inside of the passenger door and had her feet planted wide apart to steady herself. Mr Felix swung the Fiat around another corner at forty miles per hour and laughed.

‘Quite fast for an old fogey, you mean?’

If the cap fits, thought Flora. She just smiled. More than anything, she was grateful for the favour. Mr Felix had surprised her with the offer of a lift, and now he was surprising her even more. Not only was he a crazy driver, he also seemed touchingly concerned about Joy’s wellbeing.
And
he was a really good listener.

They’d been travelling for about half an hour, and so far she’d told him pretty much everything. Not about Joy’s conviction that he was in fact the much abused caretaker’s son, of course, but all about Mr Vasco and her suspicions about the warden and the possibly fake charity that had so far benefited from not one but two huge bequests. And probably had another from Joy on the way.

Mr Felix listened in silence, occasionally shaking his head.

‘I’m glad I’ve got no money,’ he told her when she reached the part about Joy’s visit to the solicitor that morning. ‘No one would be interested in me as a target. You know, it never occurred to me as odd before, but now you come to mention it there’s something else that fits your theory.’

Flora sat forward, keeping her hands braced to either side. ‘What?’

‘There was this questionnaire when I moved in to the Maples. I’m renting my unit, can’t afford to buy a place outright like Joy, so I just thought it was a kind of security or financial check.’

‘Like a credit rating?’

He nodded. ‘You had to list all your assets, and then at the end there was a section about family. Your emergency contacts and all that, but also beneficiaries.’

‘Really?’ Flora thought about it. A perfect way to assess incoming residents for suitability – and vulnerability. She shuddered. The warden was even more calculating than she’d imagined.

‘And speaking of charities, there was a section on any charities I might support. Ongoing direct debits, things like that.’

It all fitted. Flora was sure of it now. If this pressure in her chest would ease off for a minute she might be able to think more clearly, because now there was something else niggling at her. She sighed. It was no good. With Mr Felix rabbiting on – who would have guessed he was so chatty? – and throwing her around in the car like a ragdoll, it was all she could do to keep focused on the job at hand.

Find Joy. Make sure she was okay. Tell the warden to take a hike, then keep Joy safe until the charity scam was exposed.

That was all she could think about right now.

‘So I wrote down that there was nothing and no one, of course. A life of work and nothing to show for it. That’s just the way it is for people like me.’

‘What did you do before you retired?’ Flora looked over at him. His colour was high. She remembered Elizabeth telling her he was obsessed with vitamins. She had to admit, he looked the picture of health.

‘I was a chemist. Worked in university labs.’

‘Did you enjoy it?’

He shrugged. ‘What’s to enjoy? A job’s a job.’ He glanced over at her, his smile wide. ‘I suppose you’re one of those feminist types, are you?’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘You’re a young woman running a business that traditionally belongs to men. And you’re friends with Joy, of course.’

Flora laughed. She saw the sign for the funicular railway and told Mr Felix to turn left. ‘I’m no feminist. If I was I’d be following my own dreams, not carrying on someone else’s.’

Mr Felix was silent then, and Flora looked out of the window, embarrassed. He sure was easy to talk to, but she’d said far too much already. She pushed the feeling of melancholy away and craned her neck for that first stunning view of Bridgnorth. And there it was, rising up on a cliff, the beautiful architecture and domed church of the High Town looking majestically down on the valley below.

She directed him to the bridge, then asked him to pull over.

‘But the Severn Railway is further on.’

‘What?’

‘I thought you said she wanted to go to the railway?’

Flora laughed. ‘Not that railway. This one.’ She nodded towards the arched entrance to the cliff railway and Mr Felix shrugged.

‘Well, good luck. Do you want me to hang around and give you a lift back?’

Flora was torn. They would need to get back to Shrewsbury somehow and it was getting late for a bus. Marshall still wasn’t answering his phone. But Joy would no doubt refuse to travel in Mr Felix’s car, even if her life depended on it.

The old man seemed to understand her dilemma. ‘Tell you what – I’ve got a bit of shopping to do, so how about I meet you back here in half an hour. If you want a lift, fine. If not, no problem.’

She nodded and told him to meet them at the top, in High Town. ‘It’s easier to park up there.’

‘Okay, then. I hope you find her.’ He smiled and strapped his seatbelt across his body.

‘Thanks, Mr Felix. You’re a star. And listen, I’m really sorry about what happened in the library the other day. It was all just a misunderstanding.’

He waved and drove away. Flora ran across the road, dodging traffic, and dived into the alley that led to the tiny ticket office at the bottom of the railway.

‘We’re closed.’

Flora came to a halt, practically running into the barrier. She looked at the opening times stuck to the window.

‘No, you’re not.’

The man behind the counter glared at her. ‘Yes, we are.’

A shout pierced the air. The man’s face took on a panicked expression and he moved to the rear of the cubicle.

‘What was that?’ Flora followed his gaze. On impulse, she slipped under the barrier to get a better view.

The two train carriages were sitting empty, one at the top and one at the bottom. The sight of them made Flora shudder. Good thing it was closed, when you came to think about it: she didn’t really want another trip up the cliff face. But if it was closed, where might Joy and Cynthia have gone instead? The track led up and up: Flora followed it to the top with her eyes. Along the wall that overlooked the track and the valley, people were leaning over and pointing to something out of Flora’s line of vision.

She edged forward a little further, pressing her nose right up against the glass.

‘Crazy old lady,’ grumbled the ticket man. ‘Costing me money. No one ever thinks about that, do they?’

High above the top carriage, on the metal gantry that ran across the narrow track, stood a solitary figure. She had white fluffy hair that whipped around her head in the strong breeze. The sleeves of her pastel blue cardigan were pushed up to the elbows and her arms where ghostly white. Almost as though she was wearing long white gloves …

Flora took in a sharp breath and a strangled cry escaped her throat.

The woman on the gantry was Joy.

***

‘Joy! Oh, my God.’ Flora banged her fists on the glass. ‘You have to do something. Can’t you get her down?’

The man threw her a disgusted look. ‘Don’t you think we’re trying? She’s been up there for fifteen minutes. Crazy old bat. Hold on – do you know her?’

‘How do I get up there?’ Flora had dropped her bag on the floor and was looking around for an access door. Her eyes fixed on the carriage. ‘Come on, open it up. You can send me up in that. It’s the quickest way.’

‘No can do. Health and safety.’

‘Damn it! Joy, hold on. I’m coming.’

‘You’ll have to go on foot,’ the man told her. He gave her directions. ‘It’s not far, just steep. You’d better run.’

She didn’t need to be told that. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, Flora legged it out of the ticket office and turned left, heading for the cobbled street that would lead her to High Town. She could hear the cries on the wind, people shouting, trying to talk Joy down. What was she doing up there? Did she know about the warden already? No, that wasn’t possible. Maybe it was the thought of moving to the third floor, of losing her independence forever. That must be it. The poor old thing, full of fear, unable to face life without Eddie, unable to cope with the shame and guilt of what happened all those years ago. Flora had been right all along – that was what was behind her friend’s anxieties and stress. If only she’d tried harder to get her to talk about it, to resolve it. But she’d been too caught up with playing detectives. She’d let her friend down completely.

Her phone started to ring. Flora answered it, still running. Good job she was fit, although her breathing was starting to show the strain and her legs were already burning. It was Marshall.

‘Flora, where are you?’

‘I’m in Bridgnorth.’

‘What? Me too! What are you doing?’

‘What did you say? I’m in Bridgnorth.’

Marshall’s voice sounded strained. ‘Flora, I’m in Bridgnorth too. Listen, there’s something going on with Richie. He took the van, the police called me about an hour ago, it had been abandoned just outside High Town with two flat tyres. Steve’s just driven me down here to pick it up.’

Flora’s eyes stretched wide. ‘Marshall, I can’t explain right now but I think Richie might be in on it with his aunt. He must have done it so we couldn’t follow them here.’

She turned left again and started up a flight of steps, taking them two at a time.

‘In on what? What’s going on?’

‘Where are you exactly?’

‘We’ve had to wait for a mechanic so we’ve come into the town. I’m by a big supermarket next to a medical centre.’

Flora knew where that was. The thought that Marshall was close by lifted her heart in a way she wasn’t about to analyse. ‘Listen, you have to get to the top of the funicular railway.’ Her words were coming out in gasps now, running and talking was impossible. ‘The cliff railway. Ask someone, just get there as fast as you can. Okay?’

‘Sure. Flora, are you–’

She cut him off. She was nearly at the top. There was the ice cream shop she’d passed with Joy only three weeks ago; around one more corner and she’d be able to see the tea rooms with the winding gear up ahead. Her mind was working quickly, figuring it all out. Richie. Of course. He’d been spying on her all along. She remembered how he’d crept in on her yesterday – and she’d left the websites open on the screen, had only turned off the monitor. It would have been easy for him to come back later and see what she’d been doing. It must have been him following her too, reporting back to the warden exactly what she was doing and who she’d talked to.

She ran along the walled walkway, heading for the crowd that had gathered at the end. In her mind she said her friend’s name over and over.

Joy, whatever you’re thinking right now, just hold on. I’m coming. Just. Hold. On.

A high-pitched scream pierced the air. With tears streaming down her face, Flora lurched forward.

***

‘It’s okay. She’s okay.’

Flora had pushed her way to the front of the crowd to where a man was fanning a woman’s face with his hat.

‘Oh, my goodness! I thought she was going to jump,’ the woman said, leaning back against the wall with her hand on her chest. Flora took a step to the right and looked up at the gantry.

Joy was still up there. Which was good news, kind of.

‘Joy! Joy, it’s me. What the bloody hell are you doing?’

The old woman started and peered down. ‘Flora? Is that you? What are you doing here?’

As if they’d bumped into each other shopping. A bubble of hysterical laughter burst from Flora’s lips.

‘You crazy old biddy. Get down! You’re losing the funicular paying fares.’

Joy laughed. For a suicidal geriatric, she didn’t seem too melancholy.

‘Joy, what exactly are you doing up there?’ Flora shielded her eyes from the sun. The wind was picking up now, blowing Joy’s fluffy hair straight back off her forehead.

‘I’m the king of the world!’ Joy shouted, and she leaned against the metal barrier, holding her arms wide.

‘Listen to me, it’s not the bloody Titanic! Stop messing around and get down here. Someone’s going to notice soon, you’ll get us into a ton of trouble.’

‘Ha! You’re so funny, Flora. That’s one of the things I love about you. Because I
do
love you – you know that, don’t you? You’ve been like family to me these past six months.’

Flora edged closer to the wall. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to stem the sudden swell of nausea. It had to be here, didn’t it? Joy couldn’t have chosen somewhere not-high-up to have some kind of breakdown. She steeled herself and opened her eyes. And looked right into the eyes of the warden.

Cynthia was standing on the other side of the track, about five feet below. Judging by the tables and chairs around her, the warden was on the terrace of the tea rooms. She locked eyes with Flora, who recoiled in shock. So much hatred there. Any hopes she’d had of being way off the mark disappeared in that single frozen moment. Cynthia – Cyndy – already knew that Flora knew everything. With a final glare in Flora’s direction, the warden turned her attention back to Joy.

‘Don’t listen to her, Joy. I’ve told you all about her. She only befriended you to get your money, she’s done it before.’

What? ‘Joy, that’s crazy! It’s her – she’s the one after your money. Didn’t she take you to sign your will this morning? Well, guess what? That charity she told you about, it’s hers. All the money goes to her and her pal Vasco.’

The warden began to clamber up the wall that ran along the perimeter of the terrace. A gasp ran through the crowd. There was a fifty-foot sheer drop the other side of that wall, but the warden seemed oblivious. She spoke to Joy again, holding out her hands. ‘See what I mean? What kind of a person would say something like that? I know what that cause means to you. I just want to help you do the right thing.’

Joy was still leaning against the barrier, her head twisting from one side to the other like she was watching a game of tennis. She started laughing, waving her arms. ‘Wheee!’ she said. ‘Whooo!’