The Indigo Bar – Board Games

Did The Indigo Bar Mystery spark an interest in the world of board gaming? Or add to an existing interest in the hobby? We’ve written five reviews of games we recommended you try! We’ve listed these reviews from simplest game to the most challenging.

 

Timeline

Deliberating when barbed wire was invented may not sound like the most thrilling game, but Timeline makes history fun again.

It’s a card game with a minimal learning curve (literally a minute or two) that can last five minutes or an hour depending on how many rounds you want to get through.

Timeline consists of cards depicting a historical event, invention, discovery, movie release or musical composition on one side, and the date on the other. You can buy themed packs depending on your interests. A good place to begin is the Diversity pack which involves a little of everything mentioned above. I’m partial to the movies and music set but only because that’s where my strengths lie (i.e. I’ll win).

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The way we play is by dealing four to six cards to each player from a shuffled deck with the date side face down. Place one card in the middle of the table date-face down – this will be the starting point of your timeline. It’s then up to each player to guess the date of this card. When everyone’s guessed, flip the card over and the player with the closest guess begins. In the unlikely event of a tie, establish who looks more the distinguished historian, and get on with the game. This first player will look at their set of cards, choose one and place it on either side of the starting card chronologically. If you’re right, well done for being a history buff – sit back and relax. If you’re wrong, move the card to the correct place on the timeline and take a new card from the deck. The first player with no cards remaining wins the round. As the timeline grows, it becomes more difficult to slot cards into their correct place.

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Being knowledgeable about your dates is one thing, but being completely off is often more fun. Try being 8000 years out for the domestication of cattle. I don’t know that I’ll ever be allowed to live that one down. Competitive players who feel confident with their cards can also employ a little strategic element and slot in cards with dates close to each other, making it tricky for other players. To help yourself, playing cards you’re more uncertain about first, when the timeline is smaller, always helps. Sometimes you’ll inadvertently help other players, however. I played the ‘Start of the Hundred Years’ War’ card, revealing the date. What did one of my opponents have? ‘End of the Hundred Years’ War’…

After a round ends, you can clear the slate and begin a new timeline, but maybe you’ll want to challenge (or embarrass) yourself further by keeping the existing timeline in play. It will get messy, but you’ll feel an even greater sense of achievement when you get one right.

The potential drawback to Timeline is that after a few plays you may begin to remember the dates of some cards, affecting overall replayability. On the flip-side, you’ll be able to impress everyone at dinner parties with tons of pointless information. While this might be a concern for some players, it hasn’t made much difference for me, as I shuffle four different sets into one game, each set being 109 cards. Plus I have a terrible memory, which helps.

 

Lost Cities

Pick up your map and safari hat. You’re now an intrepid explorer, ready to embark on expeditions to far-flung corners of the globe and make the discoveries you’ve been dreaming of! Set out towards the Himalayas, the bottom of the ocean, the Central American rain forest, volcanic islands and harsh Egyptian desert climates to unearth lost cities. Your globetrotting jaunts won’t come cheap, though. You’ll need financial backing first due to a limited supply of resources. Let’s hope you can pay back those investments, otherwise you’ll be returning home in severe debt…

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Lost cities is a two-player hand management game that revolves around the risk and reward factor of playing cards into your own set. The game consists of a board placed between the two players and 5 sets of  12 cards. Each card set is a different colour – red, blue, green, yellow and white – representing the 5 different locations mentioned above. Each coloured set has cards numbered from 2 – 10 plus three investment cards. 45 expedition cards and 15 investment cards in total.

At the start of the game you’ll shuffle all 60 cards and place them face down next to the game board. Each player then receives 8 cards. Looking at the game board, you’ll notice 5 card spaces, one of each colour. These will be used as discard piles and also to indicate where you should begin expeditions of a corresponding colour.

On your turn you have two options. You may use one of the cards in your hand to begin a new expedition, or you can discard a card face up on the game board.  You’ll probably be eager to start your journey, but remember the costs! Each expedition costs $20,000. Are you sure you can make that money back and not incur a loss? During an expedition you’ll lay down cards of a certain colour in a column, beginning from the same coloured space on the game board. You must ensure that by the end of the game the combined total of each expedition equals more than 20 (i.e. $20,000) in order to score points. The problem is, once you’ve placed a card the next one must always be higher in value. Remember, each set of cards is numbered from 2 -10. Beginning an expedition with an 8 would be unwise, unless you have both the 9 and 10 in your hand, or you feel confident you can obtain them from either the discard piles or the draw pile. If your opponent secretly has those cards in their hand and is venturing on the same expedition, you’re in trouble. Ideally, you’ll want to begin an expedition with lowest value possible.

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What if you’ve started a red expedition with a 4 and then later pick up a 3? Well, it’s too late, that card is no use to you now. Best to discard that card on the game board. Be sure to check you’re opponent’s progress, though. Perhaps they’ve also begun a red expedition with a 2. If you discard the 3 then you may as well place the card right in their hand. There is a benefit, therefore, to keeping cards in your hand that you don’t need if it prevents your opponent from accessing them.

Lost Cities has an extremely simple mechanic but creates interesting dilemmas and engaging game-play. You want to get going with a green expedition but you’re waiting for low value cards, let’s say. Should you continue to bide your time or just begin with a 6 and hope for the best? Look at what your opponent has played so far. How likely is it that there are green cards you need at the top of the draw pile? Throughout the game you’ll frequently be lacking the cards you need at the right time and must consider your moves with all the information available to you.

Risk-takers will appreciate the added investment aspect of the game. If you’re feeling particularly confident about your Nepalese mountain trek then why not secure a large investment first? If you place an investment card at the start of your expedition it will multiply that column’s total score. Sounds great, but if you don’t break even on that expedition then you’ll be multiplying your loss. Ouch. There are 3 investment cards of each colour and you can use more than one per expedition. If you make a profit on an expedition backed by more than one investment then you’ll really be making it rain, but score lower than 20 and you may as well stay in the Himalayas and start living out your life with only the Abominable Snowman for company.

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The game ends when the draw pile expires. You can manipulate the length of the game and either draw out proceedings by taking cards from the discard piles instead, or speed things up by choosing the draw pile every turn. What suits your purpose will depend on your progress. I love the rounds that create a hilarious desperation as they get closer to concluding. There may be five cards left in the draw pile, but if you don’t start a yellow expedition now with a card value of 7 then you’re opponent will finish with the upper hand. Can you make a profit before time is up?

Some may find the math-heavy scoring system a little awkward or off-putting, especially when investment cards are involved. It took me a few minutes to make sense of it as I’m woefully inept when it comes to maths. I’m also aware that the theme is completely tacked on – this is nothing but a game of numerical organisation. However, I love using my imagination when I play board games so I still like to embrace the story. Paper-thin theme and maths homework aside, I really think this is an excellent 2-player game. The gamble of drawing the cards you need to fulfil expeditions, especially when you’ve added investment modifiers, allows for agonising decisions and a high stress factor in a 10-15 minute game.

Good luck on your worldwide quest for high value cards!

 

Ticket to Ride

I bypassed Ticket to Ride for the longest time. I knew how popular it was, but the idea of connecting railway routes sounded like an express train to boredom. That was until my friend selected it at a board game cafe several years ago. I was surprised at how much I loved the game’s simplicity and the competitive stress it creates in trying to complete all your routes in time. It was a lesson in being open-minded towards themes that might not strike me as interesting at first glance.

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The original game includes a map of the USA. Subsequent editions – and there are a lot of them – have added new rules and features. Having tried them all, the one I always find myself coming back to is Ticket to Ride: Europe. I find the Europe edition still retains the game’s accessibility while offering a few tweaks to make things more interesting. If you’re new to the game, either USA or Europe is the best starting point. You can then try out the expansion maps if you’re keen for more rail exploration. Ticket to Ride has a well designed app featuring most of the expansions, so checking those out first to see what you enjoy is a good idea cost-wise. 

Regardless of which edition you’re playing, the basic rules remain the same throughout. You’re given a set of destination tickets at the start worth various point values. You must then try and complete these tickets by collecting coloured train cards and claiming routes with those cards along the map, marking a route with your own set of train shaped counters. You may also collect more destination tickets as the game progresses, but become too ambitious and you run the risk of not completing them all, and those points are deducted from your final score. In the USA, connecting from city to city is simple enough. In Europe, however, you’ll be crossing seas and heading through mountain ranges, adding variants to the way you claim routes.

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The best part about Ticket to Ride is the stress in trying to build routes before your opponents either take them or block them, sometimes deliberately by players with a loco-motive of their own, feeling mischievous and/or open to ruining friendships. You’ll be surprised at how much tension this game creates, especially when routes start getting claimed in highly sought after areas of the map. You’ll be scrambling for sets of coloured train cards and crossing your fingers in the hope that a route you desperately need isn’t taken before your next turn. 

It’s probably down to an uncountable number of plays, but I have a high win rate with Ticket to Ride. My trick is to quietly build up my routes and collect destination tickets while other players start blocking each other, causing mass pile ups. Meanwhile, I made it from Edinburgh to Athens without an obstruction in sight! However, this is a game where you can also derail in grand style. One time I confidently declared I was on track for victory and then proceeded to not score even one of my destination tickets. The lesson there? Bad conduct won’t help you reach your destination.

Ticket to Ride is often referred to as a gateway game, a name given to board games with simple rules that can attract newcomers to the hobby.  This is certainly true from my experience of introducing Ticket to Ride to others. Most new players enjoy the base game and are often eager to try out other maps. India and Switzerland are my recommendations, but there are so many expansions to choose from. Enjoy your journey, and may the course you take be full of 20 point destination tickets!

 

Castles of Mad King Ludwig

It’s the 1800s in Bavaria and reclusive King Ludwig II’s personal fortune has been rapidly depleted thanks to his obsession with medieval castles. Head of state duties? What are those? Better to spend time on the throne thinking up designs for a home so magnificent that it goes far beyond the private needs of any normal ruler! Neuschwanstein Castle is already under construction, elevated on a hill above the village of Hohenschwangau so it can be admired in all it’s glory when it’s finally completed. But it’s not enough. Ludwig wants you to oversee the construction of a new castle with even more guest rooms, servants quarters, grottos and entertainment areas than Neuschwanstein. Are you up to the challenge?

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Castles of Mad King Ludwig is not simply a castle builder, although that’s naturally a huge part of this game’s appeal. As a contractor, you’ll need to be sharp and thrifty as you try to find the best deals on rooms and sell your services to other contractors, all while thinking about landscaping and floor plans. There are many different ways to score points in the game so think carefully about the layout of your creation and which rooms offer the best value for money. You’ll also need to accommodate Ludwig’s whims as he’ll be providing you with his room preferences at the start. Perhaps he’ll decide that square shaped rooms are in vogue, or that utility rooms should be ubiquitous in his new dream home. If you complete more of the King’s favours than your opponents then you’ll be rewarded for it at the end of the game.

Rooms for the castle come in all sorts of shapes, sizes and types. Consider the King’s favours and your own personal bonus cards, but you’re probably quite keen to build a castle that suits your style as well. Some contractors may be looking for a sensible layout – a comfortable bedchamber with a private garden, all the necessities such as a pantry and a bathroom, and a few individual touches like a sauna or a french gazebo. Others will happily allow their designs to spiral out of control, ending up with two fungus rooms, a buttery and a secret lair with no where to sleep.

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Each round, rooms will be selected from a draw pile and placed on a bidding chart by the master builder – a role that moves clockwise around the table. So don’t become too consumed by your own creation. You should think about what your rivals are up to, and as a result how you would like to price your rooms. When another contractor purchases a room during that auction they’ll be paying you directly for it. Can you preempt which room will tempt them the most and place it in a lucrative spot on the chart? Over the course of the game you’ll collect rooms, bonuses and Deutsche marks according to your objectives, all before the final room gets taken to auction. Then it’s time to see if you’ve done enough to please the mysterious King!

Not happy with your castle? Well, Castles of Mad King Ludwig allows for plenty of replays as your castles will be vastly different every time. New rooms will make it to the auction and a fresh combination of King’s favours will be drawn, creating a unique set of objectives that will affect your final masterpiece. There may be a little downtime while contractors overthink their options, especially when it comes to the auction – that includes the master builder’s decision of where to place rooms and the purchaser’s decision of what to buy. I personally find the auction aspect of the game a little tricky, but seeing the shape and theme of my castle come together makes it worth it. Now, shall I place a panic room next to my tapestry chamber or a crypt?

 

Shadows Over Camelot

As one of the first co-operative board games I ever played, as well as a provider of many fun memories, Shadows Over Camelot is a perfect choice for Intrigue Inn’s first board game review. Prepare to divide and conquer, but beware! There’s a traitor in your midst…

In Shadows Over Camelot you play as Knights of the Round Table, heading off on various quests while dark forces close in on Camelot – Mordred, Morgan, the Saxons, the Picts, and myriad others are always looking to disrupt your quests in their own nefarious ways. Even Guinevere is an antagonist here, cutting your quests short with a delinquent pout because you’ve been gallivanting around instead of spending quality time with her.

Throughout the game knights must fill up the round table with white swords by successfully completing quests such as the search for Excalibur or the search for the Holy Grail. Failing quests results in black swords being placed on the table. Six black swords means disaster, and the traitor emerges triumphant whether they’ve been unmasked or not.

How does the traitor aspect work? At the beginning of the game each player is given a loyalty card which is kept secret. One lucky (depending how you look at it) guy or girl gets to be the traitor. The traitor must try to derail things by encouraging other players to partake in never-ending quests, hold back useful cards, waste time and resources without the others realising, and do anything else that could potentially disrupt or slow down everyone’s progress. Knights can accuse each other of being the traitor but should exercise caution; a false accusation means placing a black sword down on the table and a general feeling of mistrust.

From my experience, some people relish playing the traitor and excel where others fail. One memorable game involved the traitor cracking under the pressure when it was hinted that she could be a traitor, causing her to throw her hands up in the air and cry out ”Yes! You’ve got me!”

Other players have wreaked total havoc, yet managed to remain undetected. It’s possible to have games without a traitor, where no one draws the black traitor card. This makes for a very interesting game as suspicions fly around despite everyone being on the same side.

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Each turn evil progresses, and players are allowed a single heroic action. The progression of evil can mean picking up a black card resulting in some unfortunate event or summoning a villain to cause trouble, losing life points, or placing a siege engine around the walls of Camelot. Ah, the dreaded siege engines. Place a twelfth siege engine down and the loyal knights automatically lose. And those siege engines build up quickly.

With so many quests, events, and opportunities for failure, Shadows Over Camelot requires teamwork and coordination from the brave knights who attempt the challenge. It’s an immersive game and players get out of it what they put in, like stepping into character and addressing their follow knights in proper medieval fashion. Mount your steeds and gallop into Camelot, gallant knights!

 

 

 

 

 

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The Hadmere Players – Part 1

The tenth anniversary of the Hadmere Player’s production of The Water Ghost Beckons was approaching. This may not have sounded like a big event, but one decade ago this small town production was precisely that. The play experienced unprecedented success for a local amateur show. It became more than just a small piece of entertainment for the community and neighbouring villages – usually the case for such an event – several flyers through the doors and a handful of performances.

The Water Ghost Beckons told the story of a family torn apart in what the entertainment section of the town’s newsletter described as ‘the most harrowing, humanly affecting fashion.’ During an autumnal break in the Dorset countryside, the family was singularly lured, entranced and picked off, until there remained one sole survivor, by an ethereal and seductive water ghost whom for each character was representative of their personal fears and desires. It was said that what made these later scenes particularly powerful was the time spent on establishing a family dynamic in the play’s first act – an act filled with laughter and familiarity, hitting the nail on the head when it came to a contemporary nuclear family. The contrast of a laughter fuelled first act and a devastating second one made for a particularly striking play.

A combination of word of mouth and local media allowed the play to grow bigger than was ever expected. Perhaps the theme of the play captured the zeitgeist of a new millennium; representing the fear of the unknown felt by society as one by one each character met their fate. Maybe it was the snappy dialogue and clever wordplay that turned local newspaper critic’s heads. Perhaps the balance of comedic and tragic performances captivated the small town community. It was said that the director, Zave Wilson, had struck gold with his casting; the chemistry between the six actors was reported as electric – a pulsating energy that was felt by the audience even in exchanged looks and unspoken scenes. The conversation came across both intense and natural; a strong allegiance between the family members especially was always present.

Whatever the reason, the play was a success. The initial six-day run was extended with another six dates added. Of the added dates, every performance was a full house – a rare sight in Hadmere’s poky townhouse theatre. On the night of the final performance, the cast celebrated with sheer surprise and amazement, taken aback by the attention their little six-person play had received. The upcoming reunion had been planned to coincide with the final performance in Hadmere’s theatre, December 7th. The players were immediately offered the opportunity to perform a string of dates at the festival theatre in nearby Nutbourne. After this, a couple of performances around the greater Sussex area and finally a number of shows were put on at independent theatre houses around London. The cast and crew decided to call it a day after that. They could have taken it further if they had wanted to. Go out on a high and leave them wanting more, Zave Wilson had said. Doors had been opened now. Opportunities for further work in theatre and beyond presented themselves for the actors, and over time a couple of them began to make names for themselves in the entertainment industry. Not everyone chose to further pursue the acting path, though. And not everyone who did follow that path made it as big as they would have liked.

*

Helen Burbank was preparing to leave her Victorian townhouse on Knoll Street and make the short journey into the High Street to The Fox and Hounds. The first snow of the season had begun falling today and she searched for her best winter jacket on the coat hanger, hooking it with a stick when she’d located the brown pea coat.

She started to wonder what exactly she and Zave would talk about. Just two thousand people in this town and we haven’t caught up for at least two years, she thought. How does that happen? Life happens. A lot has happened over the last ten years, she considered. Too much. Those of us who stayed behind don’t see each other as often we should. But we don’t work together anymore, after all, she supposed. All former colleagues do the same thing. They may live in the same town but generally, they’ll catch up just once in awhile for a morning coffee – somewhere like Melinda’s café with its cosy decor or possibly The Quay, especially in summer with it’s neat and colourful terrace. But most former colleagues didn’t create a unique bond when they worked together like the Hadmere Players of 2008 did. We created something quite special, thought Helen, special enough for us to plan a reunion. Only three of the players still remained in Hadmere. Herself, Zave Wilson, and Bill Gregson. When did she ever really chat with Bill anymore either? Yes, she frequented the corner shop on the town square often, but it had become small talk most of the time. ‘Just this milk Bill, I’m in a bit of a rush!’ or ‘Oh, lovely day Bill, be sure to get yourself outside later!’

She worried about Bill sometimes. She wasn’t sure why. He probably didn’t worry about himself too much. He seemed quite content, and always had done. She was quite sure he worried about Catherine Ratcliffe though, the lead in the play and arguably the most successful of them all now. Ten years had not been enough to suppress certain feelings and desires on Bill Gregson’s part, she was positive about that. It would be interesting to see how those two would interact come Friday afternoon. It would be interesting to see how everyone would interact, for that matter. They were all at very different stages of their lives, at different levels of success, and, she believed, different levels of happiness.

Her coat was on, buttoned all the way up, and she pushed herself toward the front door. She passed the cabinet in the hallway and put two fingers to the picture of her and another man which sat on top. The man had messy grey and brown hair. His cheeks were rosy and his head was tilted back in laughter. She paused for a minute, resting her fingers on his face. She did this every time she left her house. Then she moved her fingers from the picture to the wheels of her wheelchair and left to face the snow.

*

Zave Wilson was already inside the pub when Helen came in. He had been lucky to secure a small table; The Fox and Hounds was beginning to heave with customers. Locals moved back and forth; some entered, raising their voices in delight as they caught sight of their friends. Others came in alongside their friends, laughing mid-joke. Some had their hands full with shopping, already on the ball with Christmas, rolls of wrapping paper with little snowmen on poking out the top of large plastic bags. All seemed grateful to leave the cold and embrace the heat radiating from the open fire within and the closely packed bodies. It was a good atmosphere, he couldn’t deny it. It was just the festive predictability of it that bothered him.

“Director Wilson!” Helen exclaimed as she approached him. She was dressed smartly, a grin on her flushed face. “What a place to meet!” She cried. “It was like Where’s Wally trying to locate you in here!” Helen threw her pea coat over the small round table. “Let’s get drinks?” Navigating her wheelchair through the pub hadn’t been easy, but as Zave looked at the crowded bar and made a concerned face, Helen winked at him and made her way slowly toward it. People began making way for her chair as she moved to the front. Zave quickly followed her before the gap closed and become impenetrable again. He reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Helen was already ordering the drinks with cash in hand from a busty middle-aged woman behind the bar with short cropped hair. She had that typical no-nonsense expression on her face that most female pub managers of her age seemed to have, he thought. He nodded to the manager as he took the drinks a minute later. He bit his lip as he carefully made his way through the all the warm bodies with a pint of orange juice Helen had ordered for him and a small glass of Merlot for herself. As he placed the drinks down on their table, a group of girls in their late twenties or early thirties entered the pub loudly. (Quite a feat considering the level of noise in the pub already.) Zave observed them, unimpressed.

“Thanks for getting these, Helen. We might have to leave soon, though, unless you want to witness a ‘Girls night out.’” He shuddered at the thought.

Helen pushed her wheelchair closer towards the table. “Oh, really?”

“If they sit anywhere near us we can expect ear popping cackling, an onslaught of swear words and sexual innuendo, lemons from their double Malibu and Cokes being thrown at each other and the chorus of a Taylor Swift song being belted out. Badly.”

Helen laughed. “Belligerent as ever then Zave, even as the festive season approaches! I’m surprised you know who Taylor Swift is,” she remarked as she took a sip of her wine. “Anyway, cheers.” She raised her wine glass and he clinked it with his pint.

“Cheers, Helen. The pitfalls of being a daily internet user. You are subjected to information about people and events you couldn’t care less about.”

She laughed. “You strike me more of a newspaper man. The kind of man who would lead a crusade against the increased use of e-books, chanting about the ‘death of print.’”

“E-books and the internet are more than useful inventions. It’s inventions like the selfie stick I have problems with.” He looked behind him. “Ah, it’s okay. They’re standing near the back. And you know one of them will be crying soon. This is the standard protocol of their nights out. This will cause a divide in the group; over half of them will proceed to escort the crier to the toilets while the others will sit and bitch about her life choices.”

“What will she be crying about?”

“A boy, most likely.”

“You know, if it wasn’t for the fact I remember you mentioning you enjoy Christmas, I could be mistaken for thinking you were the reincarnation of Scrooge.”

“I like aspects of Christmas,” Zave grumbled. “So you booked for Farfalle?” He asked.

“Yes. Hopefully, we’ll get that nice table in the alcove. You’ve been there before, right? Should fit seven, even with my chair.”

“Great. Well done, Helen, really. You’ve been responsible for most of the organisation here.”

“Well, why not? I live the closest to the High Street. I know the restaurants and cafés in town the best I would say, out of you, Bill and I. You know, Zave, you’re looking much better these days,” she said, looking at the orange juice in his hand.

Zave waved a hand. “Oh, don’t. Have to say, though, not drinking has done wonders for my mental health. You look great as well, Helen. And I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you on your latest show yet.” He raised his glass in the air and they made another toast.

They caught up with each other’s lives for half an hour or so before Zave checked his watched and told Helen he’d have to be getting on with a job that involved a bit of a drive. Although neither of them would admit it, it was a great relief for both of them to leave the pub.

*

Traffic was slowing down on the approach to Hadmere. Dan Argenta felt an excitement rise inside of him unexpectedly as he saw the large church perched on the hill through the front windows of his Audi. The church he’d spent so many masses, choir practices and school plays in. He’d forgotten how the view of Hadmere Church as you drove towards the town always struck him as one the most beautiful views in the world every time he saw it. Maybe he wouldn’t have forgotten if he had come to visit more often, he wondered. Besides the aesthetics of the town and his family, though, what was there to keep him down here? Maybe when he was older he would buy a house here, perhaps one situated a little out of town for space, and spend weekends in it every so often. It would make a nice contrast to his Richmond townhouse. He could probably afford a small farmhouse down here now if he wanted it, he realised, but he knew he wouldn’t use it. Just because you can afford it doesn’t mean you need it, Catherine had once told him, teaching him the importance of justification, and he always took Catherine’s advice to heart.

Dan Argenta was one of the biggest success stories to come out of the Hadmere players. Interestingly, he had had one of the smallest roles. The nosy neighbour who had followed the family to Dorset was the first character to be lured through the fog by the water ghost. It was a pivotal role in that he was responsible for exposing some of the family secrets, yet ultimately a peripheral one. That didn’t stop the string of successful auditions and exciting stage and TV offers that lead Dan to where he was today. He knew that many wondered if it was because the British public loved a rags to riches tale. They always rooted for the underdog. Not only was Dan an underdog in the play itself, but he came from pretty humble beginnings in real life. Dan grew up on Sentel Road. It was essentially the working class road leading out of town. If anyone deserved success it was Dan, many of his supporters had always said. And he had started to believe it.

*

The unexpected pulp in his orange juice had made Zave feel a bit sick. The Fox and Hounds had been a terrible idea. He looked in the rearview mirror and to him, the bags were striking. How anyone could not be drawn immediately to them, he thought. Helen had said he was looking better!

He sighed and switched on the radio. It was going to be a bit of a drive to Nutbourne in this weather. He had a few teaching jobs on the go at the moment – one on one acting classes – and he was currently involved with the local school’s Nativity play. He wondered what the other players would think of him now as he started driving down the High Street. Would the likes of Catherine and Dan look at him with pity, knowing the course his life had taken over the last ten years? No big success, alcoholism… while they had risen from strength to strength. Although Dan was a hit with the younger generations Catherine was probably the better-known household name. She was currently the lead in popular prime-time drama Dance, Mary, Dance (the story of a mother who lost everything but was slowly getting her life back through modern dance) and this was on the back of a raved about performance as Grizabella in Cats up in Manchester. People hadn’t known Catherine had such a great voice inside of her. Even Zave hadn’t, which annoyed him a little. Hana and Gareth had enjoyed success to a degree, but not quite on the same level. It had all started well for Helen of course, but her tragedy put a sharp halt to that.

Xavier Wilson was, most people agreed, the key to Water Ghost’s success. He had directed and written the play, and was also responsible for casting the six actors. At the time, he had known the script was a good one. He had also known that Hadmere had an abundance of local talent in the unlikeliest of places. But the play’s success had shocked him just as much as it did the others. For Zave, directing was just a hobby in 2008. A theatre enthusiast, he wanted only to put his fingers into different pies after quitting work as a chauffeur. He was never too forthcoming with his reasons for leaving the profession, but it was common knowledge that he’d suffered from alcoholism. Directing had freed him, focused his mind. The success was also the beginning of a second personal downfall, however. He was never able to reach the heights of Water Ghost again and his special band of Merry Men had disbanded. Only Bill Gregson and Helen stayed in Hadmere. Bill had no interest in performing further and while Helen was eager at first, the accident saw an end to that for a while. He was never able to find any local performers quite as good. The chemistry was never the same. Dropping back slowly into old habits, he put down his director’s cap and picked up a wine bottle instead.

*

Gregson’s had been run by Bill Gregson for the last twenty-five years. A small matter of having a lead role in an unexpectedly successful play hadn’t stopped that. It was straight back to the shop for Bill, and having him around, carrying on with his positively normal daily routine, made the idea of Helen being a local celebrity sound strange – that status came from the same place Bill had come from, and most people didn’t think of him as any kind of celebrity. Helen entered Gregson’s and waited for an elderly couple to pay for a newspaper. They collected their change and shuffled to the door, preparing themselves for the snow.

‘Heya Helen,” Bill said.

“Hi, Bill! Just had a drink with Zave! Booked us in for Farfalle on Friday too.”

“Lovely,” he said, in a restrained voice. He was trying, she thought. He didn’t care for the reunion, she knew that. But of course, he would come. Catherine would be there.

“Coffee too in the daytime tomorrow, Melinda’s probably, you can make that too, right?

“Why are we meeting twice?” he asked, baffled.

“Good question,” she laughed. “Well, not everyone could make the meal at first so coffee was suggested, but then when dinner was good for everyone it just sort of stuck. I think it will be nice, though. Be a bit of an icebreaker; make dinner more relaxed for us all.” It made her wonder where the idea for a reunion had come from in the first place, and she couldn’t be too sure – it had been on a group message chat between all of them except Bill, absent because everybody just assumed he would have no idea how group messaging worked she supposed.

“Okay, Helen. Coffee’s fine too I guess. Mel will be taking care of business here tomorrow anyway, so I’m free.”

Helen gave what she hoped was a genuine smile as she picked up two packets of chicken stock cubes from a shelf near the counter. Cold weather and snow meant one thing: it was soup season, so stocking up on stock cubes was a must. She worried the smile may have been a sad one. She couldn’t help but feel sad, even though she knew she shouldn’t. She just didn’t understand how some people like Bill could be content with so little. Especially after having a taste of something greater. She loved small-town life, it was true, and even if the ‘accident’ (hah!) hadn’t happened she would have been happy to stay in Hadmere, as a base. But she still had dreams and ambitions. There had been some severe stumbling blocks, but she was making progress once again. Music had become the second love of her life in recent years. It had always been a passion, but comedy had come more naturally. Helen was one of only two Hadmere players who had been on a stage before The Water Ghost Beckons, where she’d played the comedy relief as the husband’s sister, providing the majority of the laughs in the play’s first act before the tone darkened dramatically in the second. She hadn’t done that much beforehand. Mainly open mike nights and a couple of local comedy festivals. Her dreams of performing at the Edinburgh Fringe came true after the play’s success. She was on her way to making a name for herself – one-woman shows, bigger audiences… you’re the next Miranda Hart her agency had told her. Although her dreams grew bigger, when the car hit her and John she realised her original dream of playing in Edinburgh would have to suffice. John had died instantly. Helen had fared worse, or so she believed for a long time. Paralysed from the waist down and told she would never walk again, mourning her husband, she hated the fact she was still alive at first. Her sense of humour couldn’t help her. The only thing she could muster up were variants on playing with the words ‘stand-up comedy’. A laugh out loud Miranda Hart level set in the making it was not. No, that little dream would have to be plucked and put on a jar on the shelf with only a remote possibility of ever being opened again.

The cello had been her solace. In bed watching the Japanese movie Departures, she felt inspired. She devoted her time to the instrument so as to take her mind off everything else consuming her. Eat, cello, eat, bed became her life. Realising that she both needed to do something with her life and that she was really quite a good cellist, Helen took to some local performances. A comeback, people had said. A wonderful sob story for people to enjoy… dead husband, ruined comedy career, burying her sorrow in the rich, mellow sounds of the cello only to master her craft and put on captivating performances. Bravo. Not a dry eye in the house. Back on the stage but under circumstances no one could have foreseen. Much like the sound of her instrument, her successful performances are bittersweet, one local newspaper wrote. Bittersweet would not be the world Helen would use to describe a horrific incident resulting in tragedy and some middling success as a cellist.

Helen bid farewell to Bill in a resolve to train her mind to not feel sorry for him, and much like the elderly couple beforehand she messed around with her scarf and jacket before heading back into the snow.

*

The next day, Gareth Lawler bowed his head to enter the low-ceilinged coffee shop, Melinda’s. The drive down had been hellish due to snow, all for a coffee in a room where he couldn’t even stand up properly. Hana, his carpool companion, tottered in behind him. She shivered, inevitably. It was December, there was snow on the streets and she was dressed to impress, not for comfort. She had suggested they wait a while, take a drive together for a bit longer to continue their catch up, one on one. Sure, he knew how she still felt about him – anyone who read a celebrity gossip magazine did – but he couldn’t help think that she wanted to be fashionably late and make an entrance in her black Tom Ford dress. As it stood, they were the first ones there. We’re first and Bill’s shop is literally three seconds away, Gareth thought.

“This place is the same, Gaz!” Hana remarked.

“Everything is still the same here,” he replied with a sigh. He remembered coming to Melinda’s as a child and by the looks of it the interior had not changed one bit. Looking at the fluffy cushions on each chair which were filled undoubtedly with decades of dust, Gareth felt a little depressed.

Just behind them, the bell above the door rang as it opened and Helen entered. It was a shock for Gareth to see the wheelchair. He knew about it, of course, but this was the first time they’d met since her accident.

“Gosh, you two,” Helen gushed. “Give us some warning next time… Hadmere can’t handle two sets of dentures that bright and perfect…”

“Oh, Helen! It’s great to see you!” Hana beamed and they embraced each other, Gareth followed suit, and they waited for the others to arrive, taking seats on fluffy mismatched chairs around a large table. Sure, there’s some rustic charm to places like this, considered Gareth. But he definitely preferred things more on the neat and polished side. Bill was next in through the door, followed by Dan. They all embraced with a slight British awkwardness which Gareth observed with some embarrassment. Who decided reunions were ever a good idea? he thought. They are just full of constant awkward exchanges, the desire to out-impress each other and compare oneself to everybody else. It was stressful. The serving staff at Melinda’s appeared to be finding it all a bit much, too. A couple of them may not have been old enough to remember The Water Ghost Beckons (although they certainly knew about it, as Hadmere citizens) but they recognised Dan Argenta straight away. Most of them knew Hana also, and a couple recognised Gareth but were not quite able to place him. A flustered girl of around sixteen eagerly started setting up the table. There was definitely some interest from the customers too, not very well hidden, Gareth observed, noting a man of around twenty-five sitting alone at the back of the cafe who was trying not to stare.

Zave was next in, wearing a long trench coat. Likeable enough but a bit too intense and irritable for Gareth’s liking at times. Warm smiles, hugs, and exclamations of surprise once more.

“No Catherine yet?” Zave asked, flopping his jacket over a seat.

“I got a message from her, she’s on her way,’ Helen replied. “Making an entrance!” She laughed. Hana did not look impressed.

“Good idea on the coffee catch up today Helen!” said Dan. He was beaming, and for good reason thought Gareth wryly, the serving staff were practically falling over at the sight of him. He wasn’t sure who was winning between the youngest looking waitress and the twenty-five-year-old customer.

“Thanks, Dan. God, it’s so surreal to see everyone back together!”

“Bill, you haven’t changed one bit!” Hana chimed in.

“Yes… no fancy dental work for me, eh,” he replied with a smile. Hana and Gareth weren’t sure what to quite make of that statement.

“And you’re still at the shop?” Hana asked with what was clearly meant to come across as casual politeness, but the note of derision was unmistakable.

“Yes…” said Bill with a short smile. “I know I haven’t been venturing out, gallivanting around London town like some of you lot, but I love Hadmere. Always have, always will. Just look at it – especially today in the snow. It’s like something from Dickens.”

They all responded in agreement as the bell above the door rang once more and Catherine Ratcliffe entered, a large grin on her face as she spotted the others. She removed her jacket and shook it on the doormat to get rid of some of the settled snow. Catherine Ratcliffe looked the part of a middle-aged star, her short-styled curly hair immaculate and her red and black dress flattering without being revealing. Now here’s a woman who knows what to do with her age, thought Gareth. In spite of himself, he started laughing inside at what poor Bill must be thinking right now. Why he never made a move, Gareth would never understand. Catherine carried her thick black faux fur jacket and a handbag matching her dress and took a seat beside Dan after hugs and kisses. Chanel No. 5 wafted up Gareth’s nose as he thought how unsurprising it was for Catherine to sit next to her celebrity buddy Dan.

“Sorry, all! I had a surprise visit from Margo before leaving this morning – my agent – she’s been on the phone with one of those celebrity Saturday night dancing shows. I’ve been trying to decide if I want to embarrass myself or not… Still not sure!” She gave an embarrassed shrug and laughed.

“You know what I would say Cath,” said Dan, “Go for it. You always tell me to grab opportunities.”

Ha, thought Gareth, he just had to get a mention of how he and ‘Cath’ are pals. Gareth wondered if he was the only one thinking that.

“Let me go and order some drinks – what’ll it be guys, coffees?” asked Zave, getting ready to stand up.

Most of the group ordered americanos except for Hana who preferred tea and Dan who ordered the most expensive smoothie he could find on the menu. Zave went to the bar to order and Dan went to use the toilets. The rest of the group had broken off into separate conversations. Catherine and Hana were discussing Hana’s current local Sussex TV gig while Gareth, Bill and Helen talked about the differences between London and Hadmere.

“I’m a best of both girl, really,” said Helen. “Love small town life here but it’s good to remember there’s more going on in this world and just how busy it can be with a trip up to London now and then.”

“Do you have any upcoming shows in London, Helen?” asked Gareth. “Surely with the success you’ve been having down here?”

“One’s in the pipeline, yes. It’s a bit scary – the idea of a big London audience… it’s been a while. Well, big London audiences are nothing to you Gaz – has your latest show finished it’s run yet?

“Yeah, couple of weeks back. I only had a small part, though…”

“Still! That’s super impressive.”

“I don’t feel the need to go to London much, to be honest,” said Bill. “I know what it’s like. It’s dirty and frantic and everyone looks stressed and tired. I don’t need regular visits to remember that.”

Zave and Dan, once back at the table, had joined Hana and Catherine’s discussion. Helen went to the toilets and then shortly after she came back the young waitress brought over the drinks on a shaking tray. Gareth took the tray from her hands to help her out and placed it on the table.

“I just don’t know why the bigger modelling agencies haven’t picked up on you yet, Hana. You’re so stunning, more so than ever,” Catherine said. She wasn’t wrong. With her perfect skin, large blue eyes and sleek chestnut hair, Hana Payne often made people do a double-take when they first saw her. She’d had middling success with modelling, having worked internationally with a recent tour around Asia.

“Lot of luck in modelling, Cath.” Hana replied. “It’s why I moved on to presenting.”

Catherine nodded sincerely. “I understand that. Keeping options open is always wise, I say. Well, cheers everyone!” She said, turning to the others and taking her coffee, as everyone had been fiddling around with sugar packets and stirring their drinks. “I’m so happy this is happening! I’m not lying when I saw that despite the play being a decade ago now you lot never leave my mind. I’m always wondering what everyone’s up to.” They cheered and clinked their cups and glasses and sipped their drinks before resuming their conversations.

“Well if you know of any contacts, Catherine, please let me know,” said Hana. But Catherine wasn’t listening. Catherine was trying to fight off the paralysing sensation that had suddenly overtaken her entire body.

“Catherine?” Hana asked, but the poison was already taking its fatal effects.

“Guys! Catherine –” But everyone understood now as Catherine Ratcliffe fell limply from her chair, causing Dan next to her to act immediately and grab her before she hit the floor, holding her as she shook, yelling her name but to no avail – a minute later, she was dead.

 

© Intrigue Inn

 

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Coming Soon: The Hadmere Players

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Tomorrow our fourth murder mystery begins! The first instalment of The Hadmere Players will be released on Monday 21st May. It’s back to the UK and Francesca Palandri starts investigating when the ten year reunion of a well known amateur play goes horribly wrong…

Like our last mystery, The Pearl of Taiwan, instalments of The Hadmere Players will be released every few days. If you’re keen to read the mystery all at once then bide your time until the end of the month!

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The Pearl of Taiwan – Day 6

I make a plan to travel to Jiufen in the early afternoon. I did intend to go earlier, but I ask Josh and Naomi if they’d like to meet for breakfast first. Josh hasn’t been messaging much since the murder, understandably of course. I’ve been the one asking them to meet up since (although yesterday that was to check I could actually trust them – paranoia at it’s finest) and I want to be careful to not pester them too much. Saying that, I do think it’s important to catch up regularly while we’re all in Taipei. It can potentially help the healing process of such a traumatic event.

I’m also keen to catch up with Michael and Pauline before they leave for the next stop on their cruise. I have no contact information, so I phone up their hotel in Jiufen to see if they would be willing to pass on their details. The lady on the phone doesn’t have a number to give me, but their registration form states which hotel Michael and Pauline Chapman are staying at in Taipei.

Josh sends me his location – an American diner in Ximen. I decide to walk there, headphones on and listening to The Eagles, while seeing if there is anything I can find out about Michael and Pauline online. Social media has been a valuable resource in investigating some people so far but it’s not helping me now. I type their names into a search engine instead.

The top result is a community forum on a website called ‘Joyful Over Jewels‘, a website dedicated to luxury vintage and antique jewellery. The search results indicate Pauline and Michael are members of the forum, having racked up an impressive post count. There are various discussions on different cuts and evaluations, but the couple’s main activity seems to be centred around a sub-forum discussing expensive jewellery items around the world. Their history, value and movement are all analysed in depth by the members frequenting this sub-forum. As I read, I recall the couple mentioning their love of gold – visiting museums in South Africa and now here in Taiwan. They are clearly enamoured by jewels and precious minerals. Not a promising sign. As I scroll down the thread titles I spot one called ‘Sansberg Necklace – Where Is It Now?‘ with members discussing the current whereabouts of the extortionately valued pearl necklace. Michael and Pauline are very active in determining its current location, and on several occasions they comment on how beautiful they find the piece. Their sleuthing has been successful, and they’ve tracked the necklace to Cindy. ‘How ridiculous! Giving such a unique and fabulous piece to the nanny! Lindholm had zero respect for fine jewellery,’ reads one of Pauline’s comments. ‘This is possibly the most beautiful pearl necklace in the world!’

I stop reading as I arrive at the diner. I join Josh and Naomi for American breakfast and milkshakes. I try to put aside what I’ve just read until I visit the Chapman’s hotel later.

“This place is not as good as back home, of course,” says Josh as our food arrives. “But it satisfies a craving. How are you feeling today, Greg?”

“I’m still confused by everything, to be completely honest,” I reply.

Naomi gives me a sympathetic look. ” I was too, up until yesterday. But now they’ve arrested that ex-boyfriend. It’s over.”

“Greg doesn’t think he did it,” says Josh.  “I suppose it could have been someone else. I didn’t really think that Cindy could have enemies. But now that I understand a little bit more about that necklace and its worth, it’s entirely possible. Naomi mentioned that Cindy told her about the relationship she had with her boss, and that Lindholm’s family may have been jealous.”

“Yes,” says Naomi. “It occurred to me after her death that her family may not have been happy with Cindy receiving that necklace. It was clearly worth a lot. I mentioned this to the police officer in Jiufen when he told me they’ve arrested Chih Ming. That could be something for them to look into! But they think they have their guy, so that’s that.”

“Its worth five million dollars, by the way. I looked it up.” I tell them. “It was easy to find out.”

Josh nearly spits out his pancakes. “What? What the hell was she doing wearing it every day? Obviously it was expensive, but wow.”

“Maybe she didn’t know its true value…” I suggest. ” I think she wore it more out of respect for Robin Lindholm than for how luxurious it is.”

“She only told me bits and pieces, but I always wondered what kind of relationship they had,” says Naomi. “I did suspect romantic. But it’s hard to imagine isn’t it? She was a strange girl, really. Very wary of new people. If she hadn’t met someone before, she didn’t trust them. She was shy with me at first, back in Rochester. Not for too long, though.”

“That’s because you’re so friendly and easy to get along with,” I compliment Naomi. “You both are. I noticed she wasn’t so forthcoming with me at first. But she seemed very protective of that necklace. So maybe she did know its value, and that’s why she was wary of people who tried to befriend her.”

We finish our meals and Josh pays from a screwed up wad of cash in his bag.

“Some bookings like to pay the old fashioned way,” Josh says frowning, nodding at the cash.

“We should be using that to eat more local food, instead of this stuff! Only a week left for us here,” Naomi says. ”

“Oh, so soon!” I say. “I didn’t realise. How did the billboard bookings go, cash payments aside?” I ask Josh.

“Oh, not bad!” he says, but I can hear disappointment in his voice. I wonder, despite the good things they’ve mentioned about their agency, if they were expecting more by the time their contracts were up.

“Well you’ve gained some great experience over here, I expect. It’ll put you in good stead back home.”

“Hopefully,” Josh says vaguely. Frustration at modelling sucesss aside, the spark Josh and I had is fading, I can see it. There’s a detachment. Cindy’s death has sort of put a damper on our flirting and I can tell that he and his sister probably just want to move on from the ordeal. Unfortunately, I became a part of that ordeal and am therefore included in this dark chapter that the two of them would preferrably rather forget.

“I’ll probably only be in Taiwan a few more days myself,” I tell the siblings. “But please, feel free to talk anytime. We may be able to help each other make sense of it all. I’d add you both on social media but you’re not on there?”

“Private profiles to avoid prying eyes at our agency,” Naomi explains. “We’ve heard horror stories about foreigners being fired based on their online photos and statuses.”

“Oh wow. We can just text. And guys, please do eat more Taiwanese food in your final week. Especially you, Josh! You are seriously missing out. Look up a place called Kuo Noodles. You won’t regret it.”

*

Pauline and Michael’s hotel is in the same area as mine, in the Taipei Main Station area. It’s worth a try to see if they’re around, I have to go to the main station anyway to travel up to Jiufen.

At the hotel I ask a receptionist about the couple. He tells me that they have checked out, but left their suitcases here. They should be collecting them shortly as they have to leave for their cruise ship. I wait in the lobby seating area. Michael and Pauline come back twenty minutes later and are clearly annoyed to see me at first, but sit down with me to talk.

“Look, we need to leave in a few minutes. We can’t talk for long,” Michael tells me. “What do you want? They’ve made an arrest. It was on the news.”

“Honestly, I want to talk about Joyful Over Jewels. You told me you didn’t know Cindy at all, but that’s not quite true.”

“Greg, why are you snooping?” Pauline asks, exasperated. “I know it’s suspicious but we didn’t do anything- we tried to help her when she started choking!”

“Okay, so clearly you’ve read our comments on the forum,” Michael says. “You know, we didn’t come to Taiwan specifically because of Cindy, if that’s what your getting at. It was a happy coincidence that she was in Taiwan during our cruise. We did however choose to visit Jiufen based on her movements. We couldn’t resist getting a look at the Sansberg necklace! But steal it? And kill Cindy? No, absolutely not.”

“You were, it appears, the last two people to speak to her,” I mention.

“Yes. She came into the cafe that we had decided to visit – by chance may I add. Once she sat down we decided it was worth a try asking her about the necklace. Just wanted to see it. And perhaps ask her why Lindholm gave it to her. Out of curiosity, you know. She wasn’t even wearing it anyway, like she was the day before. Saw a glimpse at the waterfall. Well, she was very rude and told us to leave her alone. We were only asking, for goodness sake.”

“And you noticed nothing unusual otherwise?” I ask, unsure whether to trust them or not.

“No. We tried to help,” Michael repeats. “You were there, so you know this. Now, Greg, we have to go. We suggest you leave this matter be. I just hope they can locate the necklace and find a good home for it.”

*

My journey to Jiufen is quick, and this time I manage to find the bus stop outside Riufang station. After the bus drops me off, my first stop is the hotel I stayed at. I spot Winnie in the kitchen and she’s surprised to see me.

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“Oh, Greg! What are you doing here?” Cindy puts down a knife and walks into the dining area.

“I heard Chih Ming has been arrested. It doesn’t seem right to me, at all. I came back to see if I can help in any way.”

“It’s horrible,” she sighs, sitting down with me at one of the dining tables. “I was so upset with him. And Cindy. I could see them getting close again… I’m not stupid. He mentioned her occasionally in the past. This week, I realised it was her, and I couldn’t believe she was staying at our hotel! But it’s so horrible that Cindy is dead and Chih Ming has been blamed… We haven’t been dating for long, but there’s no way he would do this. And they’ve found no evidence of poison at Daydreams and Tea. In the bubble tea machine, on the counters, nowhere. That poor manager there… either this is going to be great for her business or no one will visit anymore. Oh, wait there a second… I have something for you to try. I made some traditional style cheese balls.”

She brings a plate of them over and we share a few of the doughy balls filled perfectly with hot cheese piped in to the centre.

“Wow, these are great, thank you.”

“I’m glad you like them. I’m becoming very good with desserts now.”

“Winnie, why did you go to the cafe that day? When did you get there?”

“I got there just a minute before Cindy did. It was my morning off. I was taking a long walk and then decided to visit the cafe so I could chat with Chih Ming when his shift was over. Cindy seemed very flustered when she arrived, I don’t know why. I had just sat down at one of the booth tables when she walked in. She was looking in her bag carefully. Like she was double checking she had everything on her. She then sort of argued with Chih Ming for a few minutes. Because I was there. She saw me. But I think she was actually just emotional or stressed about something else at the time. She was very shaken.”

“She wasn’t like that when she left this dining room just fifteen minutes before. What happened after she ordered her drink?”

“Well, she sat down and then two foreigners came and spoke to her. They wanted to know about her jewellery, I think, but Cindy wasn’t happy about it so they went to sit down again. They were very disappointed. Then Chih Ming came over with her bubble tea. She added some popping pearls from a container to her drink. She put the container of popping pearls back into her bag on the floor. Very weird. Who carries popping pearls around with them? I noticed she added them to her drinks at breakfast here. Anyway, a few minutes later she was sick…”

“That’s very interesting. Thanks. You know, that necklace is worth a lot of money.”

“I heard. Whoever has it now, if they sell it, they can do anything they like in this world… Escape anywhere, buy anything they want… Imagine.” She sounds jealous. “I didn’t see anyone take it, though. I didn’t notice if she was wearing it. I mean, maybe when everyone gathered around her but it would be very difficult. If the necklace was in her bag maybe someone could grab it, but around her neck no way. Someone must have taken the necklace before she came.”

I thank Winnie for her food and conversation and once again retrace the path from the hotel to Daydreams and Tea. I am more sure than ever that something happened on her short journey to the cafe. As I climb the stone stairway, I look carefully for a sign, a clue, anything. I climb a particularly overgrown part of the stairway and spot something half submerged in the dirt next to one of the steps. As I look closer, I see it’s a Polaroid picture. I pick it up. It’s a picture of Alma and her boyfriend Kevin, here in Jiufen, walking along Old Street among a crowd of people. They’re not looking at the camera. I don’t think they knew the picture was being taken. Who took it? Why is it here? Why take a picture of them unawares? I look at the spot where I picked up the Polaroid more carefully, pushing a shrub to one side. Popping pearls! Just two of them, half covered by dirt.  There’s also a fragment of a receipt and two coins. I take a picture with my phone of the items and keep the Polaroid on me.

I walk back down the stairs and to the police station. The young officer seems confused, but takes it from me as I tell him there are a few other bits and pieces by the steps that could be considered evidence. I strongly advise him and his team to think about this case carefully, because I’m positive that Chih Ming has nothing to do with this. Whoever did this knew that Chih Ming would be an easy target, and in case he wasn’t, well, it would appear they hatched a plan to lure the daughter of Robin Lindholm to Jiufen while Cindy was here, making her look extremely suspicious.

I make my way to the bus stop. I think I’m done here. I have a lot to think about, and when I’m finished I’m going to need a bowl of beef noodle soup and a long chat with Freddy Kuo. I’m keen to discuss my thoughts with him and seek advice on how I should proceed from here.

© Intrigue Inn

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The Pearl of Taiwan – Day 5

It’s a slow start to the morning after a restless night’s sleep. Following the realisation that Cindy’s popping pearls were missing from her bag at the police station, I also started wondering about Robin Lindholm’s children, and a disturbing thought plagued my dreams. Lindholm had two children in the late eighties, a couple of years apart – a boy and a girl. I know two people who would fit that description, and they have the Swedish blonde hair and blue eyes to match. It’s outrageous to think they could concoct such an elaborate plan and a steady string of lies, but are Josh and Naomi Lindholm’s children? From what I know about English speaking Swedish people, it is often hard to tell they are Swedish because their English pronunciation is so clear. The minimal trace of a Swedish accent could make it nearly impossible. My online research yesterday revealed that Lindhom’s children went on to live in America and more recently Taiwan, perhaps it was Rochester and Taipei specifically… I really don’t know anything about Naomi and Josh’s lives before Taiwan, after all.

Trying not to panic too much about this, I message Josh and ask if I can drop by their apartment to see how they’re doing. I can’t find either Josh or Naomi on social media so there’s a chance I could find something in their apartment that confirms this crazy theory instead. Josh tells me to come over, so I make my way to their place next to Bangka Park, close to Lungshan Temple.

I enter the lobby of a worn down apartment complex. There’s a guard on duty behind a small, dusty glass window. He may be able to help with a question of mine. I ask if he speaks English. He looks slightly concerned but still nods.

“I’m a friend of Josh and Naomi’s,” I tell him.

“Ah. The models. Yes. Always with the friends visiting.”

Oh, I bet they always do have ‘friends’ over, both being young, beautiful and single.

“I have a question. Did you see Josh yesterday? Leaving and coming back?”

“Yes, yes. I saw him,” the guard says.

“Do you remember when?”

He thinks for a minute. “Left early. Dressed for work. White T-Shirt, black jeans. Hm. He came back a few hours later. Maybe 4 hours. Then he left again quickly after that. He was moving quickly.”

“Thank you, that’s very helpful.” He doesn’t seem at all concerned that I was asking about Josh’s comings and goings. The guard’s words confirm Josh’s movements on the day Cindy died. He had a modelling booking in the morning. He came back home, and then left again quickly as Naomi had told him to come up to Jiufen as soon as possible. Naomi was with me while Cindy was poisoned, so neither of them could have killed Cindy. This does not quite reassure me, though. They could have hired someone to kill her. One of these gangsters Freddy mentioned.

I nervously make my way up to their apartment. Josh greets me and we walk into a small, dingy space decorated with various items from home. Naomi is out. I walk past her room and notice plenty of designer bags, shoes and accessories. Josh did say they are doing well with their agency, and it seems like that’s just as well because Naomi has expensive taste. She can’t be fond of the mould growing in the corners of the ceiling, then.

“Let me make you some tea,” Josh says. “I know for you Brits that’s your solution to anything. I prefer the stronger stuff, however. Naomi and I have been on that since the murder…”

He heads into a poky kitchen area and I use the opportunity to search the living space, looking for any clues of a Swedish background.

Behind a poker table with cards and chips scattered across it, I notice a dusty chest of drawers that may contain the answer. I open the bottom drawer and spot a bunch of documents – contracts, random pay slips and discarded portfolio photos. Aha! US passports. And on closer inspection of their contracts, the identity info makes it very clear. Josh and Naomi are US citizens through and through. I breathe a huge sigh of relief. It’s just coincidental. Thinking about it, why would Lindholm’s children be living in this tiny, grubby apartment working as models? They’re a wealthy family. If his children are in Taiwan right now they probably have some swanky apartment. In hindsight, it was an absurd theory and I panicked. Something is bugging me though, and it’s to do with the idea of Swedish people and their generally flawless English accents. They must make mistakes occasionally, and this triggers a memory.

I want to get some use.”

The auburn haired woman’s words in Jiufen that confused me at the time. The sentence seemed so strange. Useuse… what does that mean? She wanted to go in to the 7-Eleven and get some use. 

Josh brings me my tea.

“You look deep in thought. Try not to overthink this horrible situation, Greg. The police are doing everything they can. It seems quite cut and dry that this ex-boyfriend is the killer. They’ll probably be making an arrest soon, I would bet on that with confidence.”

“I really don’t think it’s Chih Ming,” I tell Josh. “There are too many other things to consider here.”

I sip the tea, a lemon and ginger mix. Juice! I suddenly realise. I want to get some juice. With a silent J, it sounded like the word use to me. This certainly sounds like it could be Scandinavian pronunciation error. I need to find out where the mystery couple are. I drink my tea with haste, feeling guilty that I want to leave Josh quickly so I can find out more, adding to the guilt I already have at thinking Josh and Naomi could be responsible for Cindy’s death. I have a flash-forward, imagining Josh and I dating each other and then a few year from now I say, ‘It’s quite funny, really, but one time I thought you were a murderer.’

On my way home, I pop into a small mart and after finding the right aisle I pick up a container of popping pearls. These ones are strawberry flavoured, but the flavour is not important. I also need a syringe with a needle and I manage to find one at a 7-Eleven, which really seems to sell anything you could possibly want. While there I pick up some interesting looking snacks to try.

I arrive at my hotel and unpack the thin needle syringe and open the container of popping pearls. I then fill the syringe with a small amount of water. I need to test the idea formulating in my mind because I can’t be sure that it’s physically possible. I take one of the small pearls and carefully pierce the skin with the needle, injecting a tiny amount of water. The skin bursts and the water plus the juice from inside the pearl ooze out. Hmm. I try again, same thing. On my third try, however, I start getting the knack for it and only a little juice and water come out. After ten tries I have it down. I’m able to successfully inject a small amount of water into a pearl without it bursting. What if the popping pearls had been injected with cyanide? It would explain why there was only a minimal trace of cyanide in the taro milk. That could come from a few of the pearls bursting in the drink and any residue on the surface of the pearls. Cindy loved her mango popping pearls and added them liberally to her drinks, so enough poison could probably enter her system, even though these pearl cannot hold much liquid. As she enjoyed them so much, it was likely she sucked up all the pearls quickly. None left in the drink for the police to analyse. Also, the irony is not lost on me. Popping pearls being the cause of death means that Cindy was killed by pearls for her pearls. The murderer’s sick little joke. It is certainly quite an effort to inject poison into so many of these small pearls, but it’s a great way to baffle the police. And Cindy’s container of mango pearls was not in her bag after she died. Someone could have removed that in the cafe, or potentially at the police station if they were able to get away with it. Remove the evidence and leave the police confused. The only problem is that Cindy was eating the pearls just before she left for Daydreams and Tea on the day she was murdered. I saw her put some into her milk tea at the hotel. She didn’t react to them. They can’t have been injected with poison at that point. So how does this idea make sense?

I sigh, frustrated and move on to finding our what I can about Robin Lindholm’s children, specifically his daughter. There’s barely any information available, but a little Nancy Drewing on social media reveals a name that matches one article about the Lindholm family. Alma Lindholm. This could be Robin’s daughter. I click on her Facebook profile picture. It’s her – the auburn haired woman! Scrolling through her pictures, I realise she has only recently dyed her hair auburn. There are various pictures of her with friends, her brother – who looks very typically Scandinavian – and also her boyfriend Kevin, the Taiwanese – American man who accompanied her to Jiufen. Her personal info lists a job position in a law firm located in Taipei 101. Well, I was planning to visit the tower some point soon anyway. The international law firm Nilsson and Wu is on the skyscraper’s 63rd floor.

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I take the red MRT line to Taipei 101 Station and walk for a few minutes to the base of the skyscraper. Looking up, I can appreciate the intention to construct Taiwan 101 like a giant stalk of bamboo, making it different from the generally homogeneous design of so many skyscrapers. The ground floor is a mall of various fashion brands and franchise restaurants. A sign directs people seeking the entrance and elevators to the observation deck to the 5th floor. I need the business entrance, not the tourist one. I find out there is a service centre on the 35th floor that I can access, so I make my way up and walk over to a reception desk.

“I need to speak with Alma Lindholm of Nilsson and Wu, please. Floor 63.”

“Do you have an appointment with the company?” A small, neat woman asks me.

‘No, but it’s a situation of a private matter regarding her family.”

She looks at me sceptically. “Has she granted you an access card?”

“No, she told me I should come by and she would issue me one.”

‘Please wait a second.”

She makes a phone call and a few minutes later I see the familiar hair colour out of the corner of my eye. I turn towards Alma as she walks towards me. She stops dead in her tracks.

“You were in Jiufen. How did you find me?”

“We need to talk, Alma. I know who you are.”

She looks at me, completely unimpressed, and motions that I should follow her. She signs me in and I’m given an access card. We take the elevator up and walk in to a corner office of Nilsson and Wu which offers spectacular views of the city. She closes the door behind us.

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“Sit down. Before we begin, I need to know that this conversation will be confidential. And, I’d also like to know who the hell you are.”

“My name is Greg Newman and I’m a travel food writer. I assure you our conversation will stay in this office.”

She looks at me as if I’m stupid. I tell her about my connections to Cindy. I reassure her that I am outsider in all of this and am merely trying to assist the investigation and ensure the wrong person isn’t arrested. I remind her of the death penalty laws in Taiwan. Even though there has been very few executions in recent years, it’s something to bear in mind.

“I’m aware of the laws, thank you. In case you’ve forgotten already, this is a law firm.”

I ignore the dig. “You were looking for Cindy. Why?”

“Cindy had something that didn’t belong to her.”

“Do you now have that something?”

“No, I do not.”

“Why do you say it didn’t belong to her? She was given the necklace by your father. As a gift.”

“So we were led to believe.”

“If you don’t have it, them I’m only trying to help work out where it is now.”

“Look, our family lawyers back in Stockholm informed us that Cindy was not given the necklace and that she blackmailed my father.”

“Blackmailed over what?”

“The letter didn’t say.”

“The letter?”

Alma goes red in the face. “As I mentioned this matter is strictly confidential. In part because I am extremely embarrassed over this whole situation. My reckless actions have potentially brought unwanted attention to my family. You’re the first. But you won’t be the last. Or the most worrying. You’re not the police. You’re just nosy.”

I try to stand my ground. “Yet I have connections and may be able to help you.”

She pauses and walks over to her desk. She reaches into a drawer and hands me an envelope.

“I received this last week. Even on close inspection, it is has been made with incredible accuracy. I did not evaluate it closely at the time because I was consumed with rage.”

I read the letter, addressed to Alma and detailing how evidence that Robin Lindholm did not give the Sansberg necklace to Cindy Xiu as a gift has been found. It was instead taken by threat of blackmail. Their sources have traced Cindy’s current whereabouts to Rochester, New York State.

“When I received the letter I immediately thought about how to find Cindy Xiu. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long, or travel far. Her social media told me she was back in Taipei, just visiting. Her posts specifically mentioned a trip to Jiufen. I decided to take matters into my own hands. I was going to track her down myself. My brother is currently working in Dubai so it was up to me. I’m not sure how I’d ever find her in Taipei, but in a small town like Jiufen there was a possibility. I used her socials to check what she looked like – I never met her, you see, she was a nanny to the children my father had with his second wife, Shu Chen. I went to Jiufen with my partner Kevin. A foolish act. I hadn’t even bothered to contact our lawyers. Then, Cindy dies while I’m in the town. If anyone important realises who I am and that I was there at the same time as this murder, well, it doesn’t look good for me, does it?”

“And so the letter isn’t real?”

“On the day Cindy died, Shu Chen told me she never received a letter like this and contacted the lawyers. They confirmed that they had never sent such a thing out to any of us, and that the claims were false. So I risked all that, for nothing. You can imagine how nightmarish this is for me, working for Nilsson and Wu. The fact that I didn’t go through the proper procedures after the letter had been sent, or doubt the way they had presented this information, not requesting their sources. I look like a fool. I was just so angry! I even walked straight past her at one point when we were asking various hotels if she was staying there. I realised it was her afterwards. You were with her.”

“Yes. You looked so focused you weren’t even paying attention.”

“It’s a five million dollar necklace. You can understand my emotions.”

“The big question of course is who wrote that letter?”

“Whoever did, they are probably out there right now laughing at me. I fell for that one, hard. I suppose I’ve always resented the fact that my father gave the necklace to her. It’s made me hate her. I created an image of her in my mind that is probably not correct. I didn’t even know what I was going to do once I found her in Jiufen. I don’t think I want to know. Maybe it’s a good thing someone got in there first and killed her before I could… ”

“I really think you should tell the police. This letter is evidence. If this is a fake letter written by Cindy’s murderer it means we’re dealing with a very thorough, premeditated plan here.” That’s if Alma is telling me the truth, of course.

“No. I’m not prepared to do that. Not right now anyway. I’d be happy to take your contact details in case you find out more. Why are you so invested in this anyway?”

“Something has felt very off about this situation since I witnessed Cindy dying in that cafe. I’m just trying to discover what that is.”

Alma shows me out. As I take the elevator down, I receive a message from Josh. Chih Ming has been arrested. I shake my head. I’m running out of time here. The Jiufen police were just eager to blame someone. I think I need to return to Jiufen and see what more I can learn there.

 

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