The Distant Dead by Lesley Thomson (most difficult books to read .txt) 📗

she led Stella into her – once Northcote’s – drawing room. ‘I felt we had a rapport at that frightful hash of a Death Café, at which the only good thing was meeting you. I hope you like scones, I cooked them especially.’

Stella had told Jack that she’d see him at the flat later.

‘Did you miss evensong?’ Felicity’s eyes glittered in the firelight.

‘Yes.’

‘I apologize for dragging you away. Do you want to shoot back for the Voluntary?’

‘It’s nice to see you.’ Stella’s head wound ached and she’d rather return to the flat and rest. She touched it gingerly.

‘Would your doggie like water?’ Felicity laid a plate of scones beside Stella.

‘He’s just had some, thanks.’ Stella knew Stanley would prefer scones.

‘Was dear Joy about to bash out ditties on her organ?’ Felicity winked as if this was a shared joke.

‘I think today is one of her days in the gift shop.’

‘You are well up on abbey life.’ Felicity was cutting her scone with a knife surely meant for tougher material.

‘I used to clean there.’ If only cleaning in the abbey was all she still did.

‘Used to?’

‘The cleaning agency heard that I found Roddy Marsh dying and were worried employing me would attract the wrong kind of publicity. They cancelled my shifts.’ No point pretending that she was rushed off her feet.

‘I thought Roddy was dead when you found him.’ Felicity paused mid-bite.

‘He died soon after.’ The police had kept that back. Spreading too much cream on her scone, Stella hoped that now there’d been arrests that slip didn’t matter.

‘Did you capture any last words?’ Felicity flourished her napkin. ‘For his loved ones?’

‘No,’ Stella said.

‘That’s wrongful dismissal, you should take the cleaning company to court.’ Felicity looked suddenly indignant.

‘They said I needed a rest and would be in touch when I felt better.’ A burning log tumbled to the edge of the grate.

‘Charlatans. Start your own company, that would be my response.’ Grabbing the poker, Felicity whacked the log to the top of the pile where it was engulfed by blue-yellow flames.

‘I don’t want the responsibility.’ Stella was startled by a swishing sound in the hall. From her tour the day before she guessed it was the green baize door to the kitchen. She had assumed they were alone.

‘Come,’ Felicity commanded, her head cocked.

Luckily Stella had swallowed the rest of the scone because when the door opened and in stockinged feet, tatty gardening jacket glistening with raindrops, Andrea skated in and stood by the fire.

‘Didn’t realize you had company. I’ve been calling out.’ She was gruffer than ever. ‘I’ve come for my money.’

‘I left it outside, on the kitchen window sill. There was no need to come in here.’ In an aside to Stella, ‘Andrea is my gardener – you met.’

‘Hi. Small world.’ Stella’s rictus smile wasn’t reciprocated. Andrea is my gardener. Andrea, it seemed, was not invited to tea.

‘You left it outside?’ Andrea scowled. ‘It will be soaked.’

‘Call it laundered and don’t spend it until it’s dry.’ Patting her chest Felicity seemed to enjoy her own joke.

‘I didn’t realize you knew each other,’ Stella said.

‘She made me act like a stranger. She wanted me there to bulk up the numbers. Strangely, the advert to do to a Death Café got few takers.’ Andrea’s wet clothes gave off steam from the hot fire. ‘I’ll go and find my money, then, shall I?’

Perhaps as a Home Office employee with a good pension, Felicity didn’t understand the anxiety of getting paid on time and with respect. A respect all the more important when paying a woman who may have murdered the last two people who upset her. Stella made up her mind to warn Felicity. Yet what if Andrea was innocent? If Felicity sacked Andrea, it would be down to Stella.

‘A difficult madam, I told her not to come the second night after her rudeness. Extraordinary behaviour,’ Felicity said to the closing door. ‘Heigh-ho, it’s what comes of employing staff without a reference.’

‘You didn’t ask me for a reference,’ Stella said.

‘You came with a track record. I did my research.’ Felicity began gathering up the tea things. If Felicity had done her research, she’d know Stella owned a cleaning company.

‘Let me help.’ Stella wanted to check Andrea wasn’t in the kitchen waiting for Stella to leave before she attacked Felicity with a gardening implement.

‘You are not here to clean.’ Felicity’s warmth contrasted with her treatment of Andrea. Stunned by Felicity having researched her, Stella was astonished when she said, ‘I invited you to see my morgue.’

‘Can I just grab a drink of water?’ Stella had to assure herself that Andrea had gone. Little comfort, Andrea could have opened and shut the dividing door to fool them, then sneaked upstairs. Stella gulped the water, then, her hearing tuned for the slightest sound, went with Felicity down to the basement.

‘Shall we take the key?’ Stella said when Felicity left the key on the outside of the basement door. Andrea could take them prisoner.

‘Are you worried we’ll be locked in?’ Felicity began descending a long flight of stone steps.

‘It’s happened before,’ Stella said. ‘I tell my staff—’

‘What staff?’ Felicity was waiting at the bottom of what must be a very deep basement.

‘I used to run a cleaning company.’ Stella couldn’t see in the dark.

‘I didn’t know.’ Felicity flicked on the light. ‘Aren’t you a detective?’

‘Not now. I only clean.’ The top of the stone staircase was lost in gloom. Stella became aware of being cold. Jack had said Andrea was his prime suspect, but what about Felicity?

‘Are you worried someone’s there?’ Felicity’s voice was like melted chocolate.

‘There’s something I should tell you.’ Feeling dreadful, Stella told Felicity about Andrea’s software. She kept back that Andrea and March were lovers. ‘She’s not really a gardener.’

‘I dislike being taken for a fool.’ Felicity’s features darkened.

‘I could be wrong,’ Stella said. ‘Perhaps she just wanted a career change.’

‘As I understand it, you are never wrong, Stella Darnell.’ Felicity opened a door and the temperature plummeted. A hand on Stella’s back,