The Hadmere Players – Part 7

“So, let me get this clear,” Detective Superintendent Mick said as he prepared himself a coffee with his dusty drip coffee machine, “You want to arrest two people?”

“That’s correct,” Francesca replied, sitting opposite Mick in his office. She could see snow falling lightly outside the window.

“Two people working together. Two players. Interesting…” Mick said.

“No, wrong on both counts there, Mick.”

“Two people working independently?”

“Yes. And that’s what really confused me at first with this case. When I realised I was dealing with two separate culprits who had two separate motives, it began to make sense. To add to the confusion, one of our culprits did try to kill both victims. But they were beaten to the second murder by culprit number two.”

Mick nodded slowly and took a gulp of coffee from a chipped mug. “Dan Argenta? Two people tried to kill him?”

“Exactly. Which explains the strychnine in the bread roll and the cyanide in the wine.”

“I see. And whoever used the strychnine also used it to poison Catherine. Spit it out, Fran. I need to send the call out to make the arrests.”

Francesca was expecting him to add ‘if your theory is correct’ at the end of his sentence. The fact that he didn’t made her smile. He was clearly confident that she had the case solved. She did have her history in Nutbourne and Lornbridge Hills to back her up, after all.

“Well, once I explain their motives you can arrest Zave Wilson and Darren Wilcross.”

Mick looked at her curiously. “Darren Wilcross? Wait a second, wasn’t he one of the witnesses? In Melinda’s, if I remember correctly? He was the one who-”

“The one who told Zave Wilson that he saw Dan put the sweetener in Catherine’s coffee.”

“So he incriminated Dan and then murdered him? What’s going on here?”

“I made an interesting discovery yesterday during my visit to Dan’s house in Richmond. Dan Argenta was gay. And very secretive about it, in order to protect his public persona. He used a string of very short relationships with women to cover up his sexuality. I met a man by the name of Michael Lemac at his house who claimed to be a friend. But it was clear he was more than a friend. I think he had recently become involved with Dan. It wasn’t hard to figure out the truth Dan had been hiding. And it made sense in the context of Dan’s relationship with Gareth Lawler. I was told by more than one person that after Gareth came out publicly, his friendship with Dan weakened. I believe that Gareth was upset that Dan was able to continue his successful life and career with his sexuality a secret but he couldn’t. Certainly some resentment there.”

“But who cares if they’re gay? What does it matter? Why keep it a secret these days?”

“Very progressive of you, Mick. Well, as sad as it is, it apparently still counts for something in showbiz. I bet you there are plenty of male celebrities in the closet because the truth would affect a casting director’s decision.”

And what does this all have to do with Darren Wilcross?”

“Well, Darren is also gay. I know that from my short meeting with him after Dan’s death. Now, how does that simple connection make him a murderer you’re wondering? Well it goes a lot deeper than that. Until very recently, Darren was in a relationship with Dan.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“It was a hunch. Darren, by his admission, could not keep his eyes of Dan Argenta in the cafe. This was not solely due to Dan’s looks. Darren and Dan had recently split up, so naturally Darren could not help but watch Dan closely when he entered the cafe, hurt and upset by the break up. Yesterday I just wondered if there was some sort of friendly connection, or infatuation, however I confirmed that Darren had recently ended a relationship by checking in at his work place, Hadmere Events, this morning. A colleague of his, Miriam Baker, told me how badly Darren had taken this. The break up happened the day before Catherine Ratcliffe died. Miriam Baker told me that Darren’s boyfreind lived in London, so Darren made frequent trips there. And he kept the relationship very secretive. No one had met his boyfriend, or even knew his name. Now, Hadmere is a small town. It’s not quite a ‘the only gay in the village’ situation, but it’s close. Darren and Dan meeting in Hadmere would not be far fetched. The day Catherine died, Dan ignored Darren in the cafe, or he didn’t even notice him – which is probably worse. Seething, Darren already had a desire for revenge before Catherine collapsed. Who wouldn’t feel upset? Dan was lapping up the attention from the locals and enjoying the reunion of a famous play, and Darren was sitting at the back of the cafe, ordinary and heart-broken. Dan had beeen two-timing him with Michael Lemac, and in the end had decided to go with Michael. After watching Dan pour sweetener into Catherine’s coffee, his revenge plan was clear – he could incriminate Dan by passing on this piece of information, whether Dan was guilty or not. I thought it was strange how he went to Zave Wilson rather than us, so I was always suspicious. I think that he was concerned the police would see through what he was trying to do – get Dan into trouble. So he played on the emotions of the shocked players, not realising that Zave had in fact killed Catherine.”

“Yet in the end he decided to go one step further than incrimate Dan and actually murder him instead – going for the ultimate revenge.”

“Right. I expect he realised that with one player dead and another reunion lined up at Farfalle – which he would have known all about from being with Dan, he could murder Dan and the suspicion would fall on whoever killed Catherine. Most people would surely think that Catherine and Dan’s were murdered by the same person! I did, at first. So he entered Farfalle the following day, was able to sneak upstairs and lace Dan’s favourite wine with poison. I knew only someone very close to Dan would have this knowledge about the Chateauneuf-du-Pape. Darren would have spent more than enough time in Dan’s Richmond townhouse to know this.”

“And Zave killed Catherine and Dan? Why?”

“Well, as coincidental as it sounded at first, the evidence began pointing to Dan and Catherine covering up a seriously incriminating incident. A hit and run, specifically, after a night out at one of their boozed up social events. Dan would drive Catherine home, often inebriated. Around the same time as their incident, Helen Burbank and her husband were knocked down in a hit and run in Notting Hill. I studied possible driving routes from the West End to Shepherd’s Bush, where Catherine lived. Dan and Catherine would have passed through Notting Hill every time. I realised that Catherine and Dan were responsible! Against the odds, they hit one of their fellow Hadmere players while driving under the influence! And what did they do about it? Nothing. They kept it to themselves, Catherine struggling with guilt far more than Dan. She was a mess, and it culminated in her affair with Benjy Mantle. Michael Lemac revealed that Catherine and Dan could often be found discussing Helen’s accident in angry or upset tones. Clearly, they were trying to protect each other and their careers, but it was tough going for them emotionally and mentally for a while. ”

“Incredible! It’s like some horrific sequel to that plays of theirs. What a bizarre turn of events. But Zave killed them? Not Helen? How does that make sense?”

“Well, Helen and Zave were the principal organisers of this reunion. I was already suspicious of them both at the very beginning. In the cafe, Zave made the drinks order at the bar and Helen used the toilets before the drinks arrived at the table. Both had the opportunity to quickly place a packet of poisoned sweetener on the player’s drinks tray at the bar as they walked through the restaurant. After figuring out Dan and Catherine were the ones who ran over Helen, Helen was of course my prime suspect. Could anyone else know what had happened, though? Who could piece it together? Bill Gregson mentioned to both Helen and Zave that Catherine had done something horrible. One of them could potentially connect the dots – look at the timelines and Catherine and Dan’s whereabouts on the evening Helen was hit. I wasn’t convinced Helen would consider this. Bill certainly wouldn’t. Zave, therefore seemed more likely. But why? Why would he kill them like this if he knew this awful piece of information? Why not approach them? Tell the police? And then it hit me. The Water Ghost Beckons. In this situation, Zave was the water ghost. He took on the role gladly. He knew a terrible secret about these two people and wanted to draw them close and punish them, just like the spirit through the fog. He lured them back down to Hadmere. I suspect he suggested the reunion in the first place. Then he killed them for the sins they had committed, still wrapped up in the success of his play a decade later. A recovering alcoholic, Zave’s glory days are behind him. That play was his peak and if there’s anyone out of those players who hasn’t moved on from it, it’s him. Bill and Helen still live in Hadmere, but Helen has had quite enough on her plate to deal with and Bill left that play behind the second he walked off the stage.”

“It went to his head a bit, to say the least?”

“Oh, I’m sure jealousy was involved also. Only Hana and Bill harboured no jealousy towards Catherine and Dan. As for killing Dan, it would have been easy for him to switch bread rolls just before everyone arrived, sneak back out and come back after a few of the others had arrived. He knew which table had been booked by Helen so he was able to swap over the correct gluten free roll. Dave hadn’t seen much of Dan lately but his gluten intolerance was common knowledge.”

“Pfft. Gluten intolerance… Well, Fran, let’s bring them down to the station, but it sounds like a well done needs to be said in advance here.”

“Thank you, Mick. It’s a hat trick, I suppose? But I think that will be all for the time being. No more small-town murder investigations just yet. I need some time away, a chance to focus on my personal life. Once this is all over I think I’m going to take Jeremy to Italy.”

“For a holiday?”

“Maybe, maybe not. He could find work in the furnishing industry easily over there. If he likes it, of course. Watch this space. For the short term, however, I have a holiday in medieval Japan lined up – all with cards, tokens and a game board in hand.”

“Enjoy it. Wrapping this case up before Christmas suits me also, so I’m not going to complain. Not sure how I feel about you leaving, Fran, but we can discuss that more in the new year. Now… it’s time to pay Zave Wilson and Darren Wilcross a visit.”

 

© Intrigue Inn

 

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The Hadmere Players – Part 2

The plastic bags clinking against Darren’s front door as he turned the key were a reminder that tonight he was leaving his emotions in the hands of two mid-priced bottles of Sainsbury’s own brand red wine. It was the day before Catherine Ratcliffe’s murder. Darren had decided that he couldn’t work out for himself whether to revel in frustration and sadness or perk up, think positively and do something productive. Let the red wine decide, he had concluded. He had deliberately opted for the medium priced bottles. Go for the cheap and he was setting himself up for failure already, the feeling of sitting alone at home with vinegary tasting bottom shelf wine was enough to make anyone feel sad. Go for the higher end range and there would be high expectations; better quality wine could, perhaps, results in better quality thoughts. No, two bottles for twelve pounds was the happy medium required to throw all his negativity into them and see what the end result would be. Although if he worked his way through two of them the end result could well be passing out. He shrugged at the thought. Not a bad solution. He entered his small flat, kicked his converses off and dumped the bag on the floor. He made his way into the bedroom and flopped onto the best, arms outstretched.

For twenty-five-year-old Darren, the last two days had been a dizzying and stressful combination of extreme highs and extreme lows. He could not think of another time in his life where such good fortune had been intertwined with such negativity. This was not supposed to happen this year. This was meant to be the year or productivity.  ‘Smash it 2018’ he had called it. Yet, here he was, exhausted on his bed on a Saturday night, bottles of wine and pre-made lasagne for one at the ready, even after receiving the most promising job offer in a long time. He had been invited out tonight, but he preferred the solitude. He wanted to drink in silence, not in a rowdy pub.

Darren lived on Hadmere High Street. He had been working in event planning for the last two years for Hadmere Events, their most recent success story being the Hadmere Halloween Hijinks Festival in which Darren was pretty proud of himself for coming up with a number of the most popular events and attractions. His Ghosts of Hadmere scavenger hunt had been a particular success. He liked the job very much, although he butted heads with a couple of infuriating co-workers, but the yearning to actually use his psychology degree had been burning inside of him for at least a year now. Around two months ago he took the plunge and began applying to various counselling and social worker jobs in the area, keen to start somewhere in the field. Finally, he’d had an offer this morning and it was even better than expected. A support worker position for a three months ongoing role right in Hadmere! When he applied to this particular job he’d just assumed it was the basics, mainly admin work for the organization.  Not only did the job allow Darren to work as support to clients with mental health issues, young parents, and young people, but it offered the opportunity to work alongside the counselling team and be trained by them. It was much more than what Darren had imagined. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a start. would have jumped for joy if it wasn’t for the fact that this news was tarnished by the events of the night before, in which he’d violently broken up with his boyfriend. Although they had been together for only five months, the relationship was moving at such an alarming emotional speed in which Darren, he could now admit, had allowed himself to be carried by a whirlwind. Swept off my feet, he thought bitterly. A lesson learned – don’t get so carried away. He was, it transpired, being two timed the whole time. Easy for it to happen, considering his boyfriend lived in London. His boyfriend had been so sincere… So casual. In fact, he remained casual, which was simply bizarre and even more distressing to Darren. Darren had found out when he received messages from another man who had also been dating his boyfriend.

Darren was about to switch off his phone when a message came through from his friend Sandra.

Did you know the Hadmere Players are reuniting this week in town?! Up for a bit of stalking?

Darren laughed. He certainly did know that. The Water Ghost Beckons. What a name. He never saw it. He was only fifteen at the time. But it had been a huge buzzword.

Darren knew he would have to cancel on Sandra. He was not planning on going anywhere the next day. He got up and proceeded to open the first bottle of wine.

*

Catherine Ratcliffe was dead. Catherine Ratcliffe, star of an amateur show, now the housewives favourite, dead. Zave imagined the nation’s reaction. He and the other players would not be able to forget this in a hurry. The media would be saturated with this story for weeks. Catherine had been poisoned, the police had declared. Potentially an allergic reaction, but most likely poison. The players had stayed at the police station for two hours. The police asked for official statements and asked various questions – where had everyone been sitting? When had people left their seats to use their toilets or for any other purpose? The police were assuming the poison was in the coffee, and that one of the players had done it, Zave guessed. And that was just the start. They were all told a detective would be in touch. Zave had forgotten her name already. Some Italian woman.

He walked past The Fox and Hounds and resisted the temptation to enter. He could do with a drink. No, must resist. Now, especially, was not the time. He forced his legs to carry him past the comforting cacophony of noises emanating from the pub. I need my bed, he thought. He walked straight home and wondered how the others were doing. Shocked, of course. Hana had seemed the worse off, she was a noisy wreck and it had taken her the longest to calm down. Helen slipped into sorrow much more quickly and remained quiet at the station and during the interview process. Dan Argenta had almost been as noisy as Hana but what somewhat dumbstruck too. No surprises there, he was the closest to Catherine out of all them. Bill had been in a state of tearful silence, staring forward, even quieter than Helen. Gareth had perhaps seemed the most normal, answering question in fairly calm, even relaxed manner and betraying little emotion.

Zave arrived home and switched the kettle on. There was a knock at his door. The detective already? He opened the door. It wasn’t an Italian woman. It was a young man.

“Hi, Sorry – I know this can’t be a good time – my name’s Darren and I need to talk to you. I was at the cafe and I think I saw something important.”

*

There were times in Darren’s life when he felt like the Fates had decided to drop him into a particular situation deliberately like the little yellow man on Google Maps or someone controlling their SIMS characters. That afternoon had indeed been one of them. Darren had decided to leave his flat after all and visit Melinda’s café. It was seconds from his flat, they made a great coffee and he was quite hungover from the wine the night before. He usually preferred the Starbucks further up the High Street, but Melinda’s looked so warm and cosy from the outside he couldn’t help himself.  He took a bite of his carrot cake feeling a little older than his years and in walked Gareth Lawler. Darren recognised him immediately but perhaps he was the only one in Melinda’s to do so – Gareth did not have the same status as Dan Argenta did. Hana came in just behind him – wearing clothes more suited for a midsummer garden party than snowy early December. He knew Hana’s first name but couldn’t remember her last. A woman in a wheelchair came in. Helen Burbank. Darren couldn’t believe it. The reunion was happening here! The others all followed suit, including Dan. Darren felt foolish for watching him with so little discretion, but he couldn’t help it.

He tried to occupy his thoughts with his new job instead of staring at the reunion in front of him. He had almost managed to block out the player’s conversation, feeling like they should be allowed some privacy (although if they wanted that, why not reunite somewhere not in public?) when he was brought back into the focus when Catherine Ratcliffe made a toast. His eyes on Dan, he noticed the young actor adding a packet of sweetener into Catherine’s coffee.

His eyes drifted back to his phone but less than a minute later they darted back to the reunion as Catherine Ratcliffe fell to the floor. He remained transfixed in his seat at first, unsure of what was happening. The other customers did the same, just staring on for a minute while the players all gathered around Catherine. It was Hana Payne’s scream that made people proactive. As Darren stood up he felt his shoulder being knocked into as a middle-aged man bounded past him towards the players to help. The crowd surrounding Catherine was becoming too big and he felt like he didn’t know what to do with himself – go and join the crowd even though there was nothing he could do, or stand back and look uncaring? The young wait staff looked to be in a similar situation, the young girl who had been so eager to wait on their table before was now panic-stricken as she lingered cautiously around the group of people. Darren could hear various exclamations: “Oh God, Catherine….” “Is she…? Is she dead?” “What the hell is happening?!” A minute later, sirens rang and approached. Someone had called an ambulance pretty quickly, then.

Darren sat in a daze as the ambulance came, followed by the police, who took his contact details, along with all the other customers. Having paid close attention to the players, as he couldn’t help keep his eyes off Dan Argenta, he felt like the actions of all the players leading up to Catherine’s collapse were quite clear in his mind, and in light of her demise, some things now seemed a little peculiar to him. He went over a particular point in his head and wondered what he should do with it. He went home, lost in his thoughts when out of his window he noticed Zave Wilson walking along the High Street. He grabbed his coat and followed him to his house.

He already knew roughly where Zave lived.  Deborah Mankron at work had mentioned it a while ago when the planning of a murder mystery evening lead to a discussion of Zave Wilson and The Water Ghost Beckons. Darren remembered that his crush on Dan Argenta had come out during that conversation and had been met with nods of agreement. Who didn’t find Dan attractive? He knocked on Zave’s door a minute after Zave had gone through it.

“Hi, Sorry – I know this can’t be a good time – my name’s Darren and I need to talk to you. I was at the cafe and I think I saw something important.”

“Excuse me?” Asked Zave. “What are you talking about? You were at the cafe? You need to give any information to the police. As you can imagine I’ll be needing some time alone.”

“I did speak with the police… but then I remembered something.”

The director raised one eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Dan… Dan Argenta…  I saw him put something in Catherine’s coffee when she wasn’t looking… and then, a minute later… it happened. I don’t know if anyone else noticed this. I could be looking into it completely wrong, but given what happened seconds later…”

Zave opened the door wider and let Darren in.

Darren was guided though Zave’s smart riverside apartment. No sign of bachelor living here. Realising he was once again beginning a bachelor lifestyle, he wasn’t convinced his own apartment would buck the stereotypical trend.

“Tea? Coffee?” Zave asked, “I’d prefer to go for something a bit stronger myself, following the circumstances, but no can do.”

“No thanks, I’m okay,” said Darren.

“Take a seat son,” Zave gestured. “I’ve been thinking back to what happened myself in those moments before Catherine….” He shook his head and waved a hand away. “Anything any witness has to add will help a great deal. But I can’t imagine people were watching closely before the incident.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. There were a couple of major celebrities at that table, people were watching alright. I admit I was,” Darren said with an embarrassed shrug. “I know one of the young waitresses was watching Dan Argenta’s move.” And I wasn’t too far behind her, he considered.

“If that’s so, son – what’s your name? Darren?”

“Darren Wilcross.”

He nodded. “Darren, if that’s the case then this waitress should also have seen Dan pouring something into Catherine’s drink.”

“I expect so, yes, that’s what I’m getting at. She should be able to back me up here.”

‘You seem pretty on the ball, kid. The police will want to know all these details. But you chose to come to me?”

“Well, you were there, you knew the victim personally, I thought you might like to know. And I was worried I was reading too much into it.”

“You know, given the circumstances of her death, it would be a good guess that someone in the cafe at the time did it. Quite possibly one of the Hadmere Players. What if you just walked into the home of the killer?”

Darren hesitated for a minute, unsure of how to respond to this statement. “You’re right,” he said after a minute. “Everyone’s a suspect. Including me. I was there, what if I poisoned Catherine’s drink? I could have gone to the bar, quickly put something in her drink and then to divert attention paid a visit to you to offer some false evidence to lead you and the others on a different trial…” He breathed deeply, feeling reckless, wondering why he’d just given possibly implicated himself or given suggestion to something he’d just made up.

“Oh, nice comeback. Or somehow added poison to a sweetener packet if that’s how it happened? But! The young waitress who was transfixed by Dan Argenta, what about her? Why would you mention her if you were making up evidence…?”

“Well, there are a couple of possibilities… One, I bribed her or planted the idea in her head for whatever reason. Two, looking at this young, emotional girl she looks very… malleable, and could easily be persuaded that she saw something she didn’t, or panic if asked about it and questions her own memory.”

Zave nodded. “Well, there we go. Two armchair detectives here, aren’t we. Or two murder suspects. Sorry, Darren. You look confused. I think my storytelling nature has taken over a bit. That happens a lot. What do you for do for a living?”

“I, uh, work for Hadmere Events… event planning. Well, I might be leaving soon.”

“How come?” Zave asked, finishing off the last of his coffee.

“Well, I just got offered a job with a local counselling house, actually. It’s something I’ve been looking to get into for quite a long time.”

“Very interesting… I see. Look, thank you for this information. It will help us all on finding out who killed a woman who as I far as I knew, wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“She did seem very personable, for a celebrity,” Darren agreed. He tried to imagine how he would cope if was in a similar situation, a university reunion perhaps, seeing people who had known nearly ten years ago but since then had only kept in occasional contact with. He probably wouldn’t really know how to cope, either.

Zave sighed as he nodded. “She apparently has changed very little since the time I knew her, when she was just a local social butterfly. I don’t know for sure as I didn’t see much of here. The player who was still close to Catherine was Dan, which makes what you saw very interesting. Yes, how could that be right? They were friends; he couldn’t have possibly done something like this. But what if that friendship was in the process of a particularly nasty ending, one where some inner circle secret had been discovered… Well, that wouldn’t surprise me with Dan, He always was a snoop. His ‘nosy neighbour’ character in Water Ghost was not a difficult jump acting-wise for him, let’s say. Maybe he found something out that required him to kill Catherine?”

“I wouldn’t know… So, do you think I should mention this to the police?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t you? Tell them everything else you saw, even if you may not think of it as important. If anything else comes to mind don’t hesitate to let me know, either.”

*

That evening, DCI Francesca Palandri poured herself a glass of Australian chardonnay. She smiled at what her proud Italian mother would say if she knew she was drinking something made outside of Tuscany, let alone Italy. Francesca had to cancel board game night this evening with her boyfriend, Jeremey, so she allowed the small things to make her smile. Since working on the Billy Grahame case in Nutbourne, the idea of playing a board game had started to take hold of her. She hadn’t cared at the time, but the enthusiasm the members of the Nutbourne gaming group had for their hobby had rubbed off on her. Out of curiosity, her and Jeremy invested in Carcassonne. They enjoyed it and had since acquired more gateways games in Pandemic and Takenoko. This week Jeremy had purchased Tokaido and the plan was to try it tonight. However, Chief superintendent Mick had assigned her to investigate Catherine Ratcliffe’s death. Everyone knew who Catherine Ratcliffe was and Mick wanted this handled with care. After Francesca’s success with the Billy Grahame case, and most recently the Sian Kowlinski murder in Lornbridge hills, it was an easy choice for Mick to opt for Francesca. So now Francesca was doing her research on the Hadmere players of 2008, and the play that put them on the map.

Francesca had already begun reading about Zave Wilson. He penned the popular play while working as a chauffeur and was keen for a change of career. The Water Ghost Beckons was quite a misanthropic play in Francesca’s opinion. And the reviews were extremely over the top. Although she had to admit it was well written. Catherine Ratcliffe and Bill Gregson had played the parents. Hana Payne and Gareth Lawler the children. Dan Argenta played a neighbouring young man who interfered and Helen Burbank played Catherine’s haphazard and clumsy sister who joined them on their trip to Dorset. The second act revealed that all was not as it seemed amongst the ‘perfect’ family, with each member holding their own dark secrets and personal issues. One by one they were lured by a frightening water ghost in the foggy Dorset countryside who said nothing, but instead sang an ethereal yet deadly song, leading them to the icy cold depths of a lake.

Catherine Ratcliffe clearly struck a chord with her performance. Francesca read how she was always keen to get a foot into the acting world and was prepared to put the hard work in, but it was not necessary. Parts were offered to her in order for her to become the new face of ‘housewife TV’ starring, to begin with, in various gentle dinner time dramas in supporting roles, and then eventually leads. She was currently starring in the second season of Dance, Mary, Dance which Francesca had never seen, but it was a buzzword she found herself constantly subjected to online or overhearing in passing conversation. To Francesca, Catherine had always seemed an amiable, vibrant woman.

Catherine was not completely unattached to scandal, however. Francesca remembered hearing about her affair with high-profile director Benjy Mantle roughly a year ago, who’s awarding winning London gangster movies had elevated him to Hollywood known status. Benjy Mantle was already married to morning TV presenter Hilary Dent, although they were now divorced – not altogether surprisingly, following his affair with Catherine. Catherine had little to say on the matter once the news story broke, but simply apologised publicly to Hilary. She had, Francesca could tell, been a private woman when it came to personal issues. Darren scrolled through old reports on the matter which generally included, inevitably, a picture of Catherine walking down the street in loose-fitting clothes in an attempt to make her look worse off than usual. Before the affair, Catherine had also been keeping a relatively low profile given her success. She had been all over every TV channel and then took an unexpected break. The affair happened half a year later. Some cynics wondered if it was her way of getting back into the public eye.

When it came to privacy, there was no player who came close to Bill Gregson. Bill Gregson rejected fame and acting opportunities completely and carried on as normal running his shop. Francesca had been into the shop a couple of times whenever she was in Hadmere. Bill had always seemed a tad belligerent, but not aggressive or unkind. Just a man with grumpy tendencies who liked to keep to himself, and had once branched out into amateur theatre to try something a little different. Bill Gregson was known as a man who wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotional inklings towards Catherine Ratcliffe had been quite apparent to the other players, and word spread. It was common knowledge these days that he had always had a thing for Catherine, but for whatever reason, he had never acted on it, not that anyone knew of, anyway. The only time he had made a voice for himself was during the weeks of press scandal involving Catherine and Benjy’s affair. Reporters who had discovered his unrequited love for Catherine wanted to hear what Bill had to say on the matter, and for several days Bill had to keep reporters at bay, saying little except a few reported quotes, which Francesca read on a popular British entertainment website, “She would not have knowingly dated a man who was still married, I am sure of it. What’s been reported is utter nonsense.” Since then there was really nothing of note to say about Bill Gregson.

Dan Argenta was handsome with a rough, working-class appeal. Francesca was quite convinced that Dan’s success was based on his looks and not acting talent. That was not to say he was a bad actor, just mediocre given the roles he had landed. And what well-paid roles they must have been, as she clicked up headlines such as ‘Dan Argenta and model girlfriend Lucy Barnes move into 1 million pound Richmond townhouse.’

Francesca didn’t know too much about Gareth except for the media drama with Hana Payne and his eventual coming out, but she did vaguely remember him having a small role in a popular mid-week hospital drama. The character suffered a dramatic death when Gareth wanted to pursue other roles, although he suffered the fate of many soap opera stars who leave the show with a bang and never actually land anything bigger afterwards like they hoped. Gareth had, it turned out, been appearing in various London stage productions and according to his bio was currently preparing for a minor role in an upcoming musical celebrating the greatest UK chart hits of the eighties. Most information online covered the reveal of his sexuality. Before his hand was forced, Gareth and Hana had been notably close. With her striking facial features, Hana had gained some moderate success abroad in modelling and then had returned to Sussex to begin work as a local TV presenter in a show about garden wildlife, a show that Francesca was quite sure she couldn’t care less about – the fake ‘oh’s’ of surprise after seeing a dormouse scurry past on a night vision camera following an all-night camp out just did not ring true to Francesca, unless she really had been harbouring a fascination for small English rodents her entire life. She was also known as a bit of an ‘It’ girl, her picture and/or name sometimes being mentioned at various fashion shows and trendy nightclubs in London. A year ago it had come out, thanks to a friend who had betrayed Hana’s trust and sought a quick cash deposit by reporting to the papers, that Hana had always held feelings for Gareth. The story grew bigger however when Gareth laughed it off and ignored the rumours. Hana had been quite upset at his reaction. The pair were then spotted in a London cafe having what looked like a heart to heart. Another customer heard Gareth tell Hana he was gay and went to the press immediately. Gareth then decided to come out publicly. Gareth and Hana have since remained friends, although it is rumoured that Hana still wants more from the relationship.

Francesca sat back from the computer, rubbed her eyes and finished her chardonnay. She would certainly need some one on one time with this mixture of household names and Z-listers to understand why any of them would want to kill Catherine, if it had indeed been one of the Hadmere Players.

 

© Intrigue Inn

 

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Coming Soon: The Hadmere Players

Thank you to everyone who filled out our survey! The responses really helped us a lot. 

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!

Can you guess whodunit before all is revealed in the 7th instalment? Good luck!

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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.

 

© Intrigue Inn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Pearl of Taiwan – Day 4

Naomi and Josh decide to leave early in the morning and catch the train to Taipei. For Naomi, staying in Jiufen longer than necessary is clearly traumatic, however I decide to stick around for a while. They gather their things – Naomi has a lot of luggage so Josh helps her carry it, and I say goodbye and promise them that we will meet up soon. I feel they may need some space to themselves for a little while. Yesterday I didn’t know what to do with myself. Overnight, I decided to make a more productive use of my time as a witness and a link to Cindy.

I check out of the hotel with Winnie’s mother and try get the point across that I’d like to leave my bags here for a short time. Winnie is absent which is a shame, not just because of communication issues with her mother, but also because I’m keen to chat to her after yesterday’s events. In a small town like this, everyone knows about what happened. I may not be able to understand the language, but I can tell it’s the subject on everyone’s lips.

I retrace the steps Naomi and I took to Daydreams and Tea. Presumably this is the same route Cindy took – up the stone stairway. The stairway feels quiet and secluded, helped by the overgrowing fauna on either side. The cafe is closed, understandably, but the young male employee I saw on the scene yesterday is sitting outside the front door smoking. We acknowledge each other.

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“You were here yesterday,” he says gloomily. “I remember.”

“Yes. I knew Cindy, a little.”

“Oh… you are the food writer. Okay.”

“Yes… how do you know that?”

“Cindy told me. My name is Chih Ming.”

“You knew her? As a customer?” I know Cindy liked to visit this cafe regularly so perhaps got to know the staff, but it was also mentioned she knew some of the employees personally.

“I knew her. I knew her very well. We were dating before she left to work in Sweden. Now she comes back here and I can’t believe she died. Here! They say she was poisoned. And I’m so upset, and so confused.”

“Confused that this could happen?”

“Confused because I made her the drink!”

“The taro bubble tea?”

“Yes! And my manager, she told the police I made it! I don’t understand. I made it just like she always enjoys it. Semi-sweet, many tapioca balls. I used the machine like normal. The machine we use for everyone. I took the tea to her table. And five minutes later she is dying.”

I sit down next to him.

“You must be extremely shaken. Did you see anything strange?”

“Maybe something. We talked for a little bit when she came in. It was a bit stressful, the conversation. She asked for the tea. She sat down and some other people came to talk to her. Older couple. Foreigners. They were asking about something, I couldn’t understand what it was. Cindy looked very unhappy. She told them to leave her alone.”

“I see. And why was it stressful speaking to Cindy?”

“It was very awkward. Because I sort of started dating another girl recently. But now Cindy and I were getting very close again. And it was stressful because the other girl was in the cafe at the time, too. They were both unhappy with me.”

“It’s Winnie, isn’t it? I saw her hug you.”

“Yes,” he nods sadly.  “You know, other people wanted to speak to Cindy also. Yesterday morning an American woman and an American-Taiwanese man asked me about her. They said they saw her come into this cafe twice already. And they know which hotel she was staying at. But they couldn’t find her to stop and talk to her yet. It was like they were spying on her! I was a little scared. When Cindy came into the cafe yesterday she seemed a little scared herself. Very… bothered by something. I wanted to ask her about it later in the day, but…”

“Oh really? Did you notice her necklace missing at any point?”

“Oh, the necklace. It was so nice… a gift from her boss in Sweden. A beautiful necklace. They say she wasn’t wearing it when she died but I can’t remember. I must try harder to think about that. I definitely did not see anyone take the necklace from her neck, you know. I would have seen that. I’m surprised she even took it off.”

“She was wearing it when she left us to come here.”

“Well, I think she took it off before she even came into the cafe then. On her way here. Something must have happened on her journey.”

I sit with Chih Ming while he finishes another cigarette and then I walk back along the road and down the stairway. I continue walking past the hotel to visit the police station, maybe they will have an update before I leave Jiufen. The young English speaking officer looks exhausted.

“Everyone is upset here because this murder was on the news. It brings bad repuation to our town. So we want to make an arrest soon.”

“Do you have ideas?”

“I don’t think so yet, sir. But we have Ms. Xiu’s belongings now, and maybe there are some clues.”

I notice the contents of Cindy’s handbag have been casually laid out on a nearby desk – her purse, phone, a make up kit, moisturiser, a lip balm, and some loose change and receipts.

“We will be looking through her phone. Perhaps she has been in contact with someone that will provide us with more information.”

“Do you know anything more about the poison?”

“Yes. Autopsy this morning. The early autopsy results show cyanide in Ms. Xiu’s system. We have analysed the taro tea she drank, and yes there are traces of cyanide. It’s strange though, because it is a very small trace. To compare it to the amount of cyanide in the body, it is not much at all. So, we are a little confused.”

That does sound peculiar indeed. I thank the officer and ask him to keep me updated.

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My last stop before I collect my bags is Pauline and Michael’s guest house. I was planning on speaking to them either way before I leave, but now with the information Chih Ming has told me I’m extremely curious to find out what they have to say. I remember the name of their guest house from our taxi journey together, it’s just a minute’s walk from my hotel. Walking in, I see the middle-aged couple sitting on a sofa in the lobby. Their packed bags sit at their feet and they’re drinking coffee from paper cups. I greet them and take a seat on an armchair next to them.

“I’m still so shaken,” says Pauline. “Didn’t sleep a wink. How about you? You knew her, it must have been terrible.”

“I was in and out of sleep. You didn’t know her at all, did you?”

“No, no. Not at all. Still shocking to see that happen, though.”

I think about the way the couple looked at Cindy when we were at the golden waterfall, as well as the confrontation at the cafe I’ve just been made aware of. It’s tricky to think of a way to ask them about it without sounding accusatory.

“She was a soft spoken girl,” I tell them. “If you had heard her speak you would wonder why anyone would want to do this to her. I certainly do.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” says Michael. ‘”Well, it was nice to meet you, Greg. Too bad about the circumstances… We have to go back to Taipei now. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

The couple both shake my hand and leave quickly. They certainly aren’t prepared to give any information away. I watch them leave, frustrated. What are they hiding?

Despite my stops around Jiufen, there’s no sign of the mystery couple. I was hoping I might see them. They’ve been popping up everywhere else, and now when I want to see them, they’ve disappeared.

After picking up my bags, I hop into a taxi and begin the journey back to Taipei. I need some company. Some non Jiufen related company. Once back in the capital city, I decide to pay a visit to Kuo Noodles. Hopefully Freddy won’t mind my sombre travel update. When I tell him the news he orders me a large bowl of beef noodle soup immediately. He sits down with me to talk about it.

“You didn’t know anything about her, really. Maybe it was Taiwnaese gangsters. Hired to take that necklace. You said it’s five million dollars? Hm. Remember I told you about the gangsters here… she maybe got caught up in something. Jiufen is not a place for murder.”

“Yes… it was surreal. I can’t believe she wore the necklace daily. I mean, she seemed very protective of it but that’s still a bit much.”

“I think you should do some more research on this Lindholm family. If Lindholm’s second wife was Taiwanese then there could be some links here. What can you find out about the wife? Was she expecting the necklace when Lindholm died? Maybe she hired the gangsters here. She waited until Cindy came back to visit Taiwan because she had contacts in her home country that could take care of this…”

“Maybe. The cafe is a curious choice to murder her. Her old boyfriend was the one who served her the drink. If he really had nothing to do with it, then perhaps whoever did wanted to pass the blame.”

“Yes. The Jiufen police will want to make an arrest. This boyfriend is an easy choice.”

“But he has no motive. Why kill Cindy? The police should be able to see that. He was happy to see her again. He was obviously conflicted because he’s now seeing a local girl, Winnie, but that’s not a reason to kill. If anything, Winnie is the one that has a motive. Cindy kept returning to the cafe and the former couple were getting closer again.”

“Maybe the police will be bribed… they will arrest this boyfriend even if they know it’s not right. But maybe not? Perhaps the boyfriend and Winnie plotted together. Maybe they knew the value of the pearl necklace and made a plan. They both probably wanted to move out on from their current situations. The boyfriend wants to get out of that cafe, I expect. And Winnie has been helping her struggling family for many years it sounds like. But she has dreams and passions that cannot be fulfilled there. As nice as it is in Jiufen, you don’t want to live there as a young man or woman. Everyone is always looking to escape. Look at the foreigners who come to Taiwan to teach English or find other work. Often they are escaping something. But you know, that never usually works out for people.”

“This is true. I really want to speak to Winnie again. At least I know where to find her. I have no idea where the American – Taiwanese couple are. Something very strange happening there. They just kept appearing! And they asked about Cindy at our hotel and at the cafe. They were clearly intent on talking to her, and the woman seemed quite stressed.”

“Maybe you need to take another trip to Jiufen to satisfy your curiosity. You can talk to this Winnie, and maybe ask around about this strange couple.”

I finish my soup, just as delicious as last time and especially comforting today. I thank Freddy for both his food and his advice – he refuses my attempt to pay and tells me to come down every day until I leave if I like. I may well take him up on that offer.

Back at my hotel, I research a little more. Reading further about the Lindhom family, I find out that Robin had two children with his first wife in the late eighties, just a couple of years apart. The children have gone on to have successful careers, working outside of Sweden in both the USA and Taiwan, thanks to the influence of Lindholm’s second wife.

I imagine the children wern’t too impressed at Cindy being given a five million dollar necklace either. I’m not sure how helpful this all is, though. I close my laptop and realize I need a walk. I want to explore and discover something new, free my mind from yesterday’s events. I decide to visit the Chiang Kai Shek memorial, one of Taipei’s most famous attractions. The national monument was built in memory of this former president.

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After a thirty minute walk I arrive. The landmark is situated on a huge courtyard – I love how wide the space is. The memorial itself is an impressive white building with a blue octagonal roof. The multi arched gate at the entrance to the landmark and the two colorful and ornate buildings on either side of the courtyard are equally stunning. Around the area are well kept lawns, flower beds and ponds. I head towards one pond and take a seat on a conveniently placed rock by the pond’s edge. I put my headphones on, begin listening to Fleetwood Mac’s Tango in the Night album, and lose myself to the view in front of me. Behind the memorial the Taipei skyline is clear, a reminder that beyond this tranquil area is a bustling city of nearly three million people. Taipei 101, once the tallest building in the world, stands out amongst the other skyscrapers. At first I think about nothing except the music and sights around me, but gradually I begin to process the information I learnt today. In a moment of clarity, I realize I completely missed something earlier, and that’s because it was missing from the contents of Cindy’s bag that were laid out at the police station.

The pearls from the necklace are not the only pearls that have gone missing.

 

© Intrigue Inn