Kittens and Killers Read online

  “What sort of charities does she support?”

  “Anything to do with women’s issues and women’s rights. As I said, she never married. She lived with her parents until her mother passed away. A short while later, she moved her father into a care home. He had memory problems as well as mobility issues. As far as I know, Donna still lives in the same house where she grew up, but it’s hers now, of course.”

  “I’m going to meet her tonight. It will be interesting to see what she has to say about Mabel’s murder.”

  “She’ll have plenty to say,” Mona predicted. “I doubt any of it will be at all interesting or useful, but you’ll get an earful.”

  “What about Jeanne Richardson?” Fenella asked.

  “She was the other woman who worked for Mr. Neil. It was obvious that she was just holding down a job while she was waiting to get married. She went through men at an alarming rate, never seeming to find one who was willing to make any sort of commitment. I believe she was nearly thirty and still living at home when she finally got married.”

  “Are they still together?”

  “As far as I know, yes. She’s Jeanne Reese now. They had three or four children in fairly rapid succession. The first arrived about six months after the wedding. Anyway, I’m sure I heard that she’s in a care home now. All of the women will be in their mid-seventies, if I’m doing the math correctly.”

  “That sounds about right,” Fenella agreed. “What about Marilyn Marshall?”

  “She’s Marilyn Coleman now, and has been since not long after Mabel died. It’s all coming back to me now. It was her engagement party that Mabel was meant to be attending on the night she died. They went ahead and had the wedding a month later anyway. Marilyn told everyone that they’d scaled it down out of respect for Mabel, but it was a lavish affair by island standards, whatever she said.”

  “Really?”

  “Her fiancé was just a police constable, but Marilyn’s mother had grand ideas. She’d been planning Marilyn’s wedding since the day Marilyn was born and she wasn’t going to give up on her dreams for anything. I believe she and Marilyn’s father spent every penny of their savings to throw the most lavish wedding they could afford. They had the reception in the ballroom here.”

  “What was Marilyn like?”

  “I’ve no idea, really. I was at the wedding. They’d invited Max and he took me along. From what I could see, she was completely dominated by her mother and more than a little afraid of her.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  Marilyn’s father passed away about two years after the wedding and her mother moved in with Marilyn and her new husband. Poor Constable Coleman ended up leaving the police and going to work at ShopFast. Clyde was working there and I’m sure he helped the young man advance in his career. The pair had three children, but all three had serious health issues and I don’t believe any of them survived much longer than a year.”

  “How very sad.”

  “I used to see Marilyn’s mother once in a while at events and she would talk endlessly about how tragic it was, which it was, of course, but she always seemed to think that it was more her tragedy than Marilyn’s. I don’t know. I didn’t like the woman and I always felt as if Marilyn would have been better off if she could have escaped from her.”

  “Surely she isn’t still alive?”

  “No, she passed away about three years ago, but Marilyn has been in a care home since before her mother died. Her husband passed away about ten years back, and Marilyn was in a bad car accident not long after his death. She’s never fully recovered and her mother eventually agreed to move her into a home so that she could get the sort of care she needs.”

  “Poor Marilyn. It sounds as if she’s had a difficult life.”

  “I don’t think it was a very happy one,” Mona said.

  “Can you think of any motive any of the three women might have had for killing Mabel?”

  Mona shook her head. “They were all close friends. I didn’t really know any of them, but because of my connections through Mr. Neil, I probably would have heard if there had been a serious fight between them. Young women tend to fight over men. I’m fairly certain Mabel wouldn’t have been interested in Constable Coleman. She may have gone out with some of Jeanne’s former boyfriends, but as I said, Jeanne went through them very quickly. I don’t believe Donna was interested in men.”

  “What if one of the three started a relationship with Clyde? Would that have upset Mabel?”

  “What an interesting thought,” Mona said. “Marilyn wouldn’t have done any such thing, not when she was getting married soon. If anyone had a fling with Clyde, it would have been Jeanne. I can imagine it happening, too, now that you’ve said it. I’m just not sure how Mabel would have reacted.”

  “I can’t see why anyone would kill Mabel over it, anyway,” Fenella sighed.

  “Maybe Mabel was angry and Clyde was so in love with Jeanne that he killed his sister so that he could be with Jeanne,” Mona said dramatically.

  “I thought you said he adored Mabel.”

  “He did, but maybe he was crazy in love with Jeanne.”

  “Since you knew them both, does that seem likely?”

  Mona thought for a minute. “Not even the least little bit,” she admitted. “Jeanne wasn’t the type to inspire that sort of passion, and I can’t see Clyde killing Mabel over anyone or anything.”

  “Maybe Jeanne wanted to get involved with Clyde, but Mabel didn’t like the idea, so Jeanne killed her,” Fenella suggested.

  “More likely, but still farfetched,” was Mona’s opinion.

  “What about Howard and Patricia Quinn?”

  “I’d be more than happy to see Patricia Quinn arrested for murder.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “She’s one of the most annoying women I’ve ever met. She never approved of my lifestyle and she made sure to tell me and everyone else that at every opportunity.”

  “Gee, I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Don’t tell her we’re related and you should be fine,” Mona told her. “Also, don’t tell her that you live alone, and don’t mention having men in your life. Patricia doesn’t approve of women who aren’t married unless they live with their parents.”

  “My parents are both dead.”

  “Yes, well, then you should live with one of your older brothers so that he can look after you.”

  “This is the twenty-first century. Ideas like that went out of fashion years ago.”

  “Not for Patricia. She is in her eighties now, so one must make allowances, I suppose.”

  Fenella sighed. “Do you think she might have killed Mabel?”

  “If she happened to walk in on Mabel with a man, she may have. I’m sure she had very strict rules about what Mabel could and couldn’t do in that house. If she thought Mabel was using her house for immoral activities, she’d have kicked the girl out.”

  “That’s a rather different thing from killing her, though.”

  “Yes, but maybe she walked in on an intimate moment and lost her temper.”

  “What do you think happened to the man involved, then?”

  Mona frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe she killed both of them and took the man’s body away to get rid of it. While she was gone, Jeanne found Mabel’s body.”

  “What about her husband?”

  “Howard? He was, and probably still is, completely under her thumb. I met him once or twice at charity events. Patricia liked to support a few children’s charities. They never had children of their own, but she used to volunteer in the children’s ward at Noble’s.”

  “If she’s so opposed to women living on their own, why did she rent out the house to Mabel in the first place?”

  “I suspect Mabel found a way to get Howard to agree when Patricia wasn’t around. Once Howard said yes, Patricia would have gone along, even though she didn’t like the idea. Husbands get to make the important decisions in a marriage, of course.”


  Fenella snorted indignantly. “Mabel would have had a chance to get Howard alone? Maybe the pair were having an affair, then.”

  Mona shook her head. “I can’t see it. As I said, Patricia dominated the relationship, even though she always insisted that he made all of the decisions. He and Mabel’s father were good friends, though. I’m sure Mabel would have had opportunities to talk to Howard on his own. For that matter, her father may have been the one to talk to Howard. I’m sure Howard would have been happy to do his friend a favor, like letting his friend’s daughter rent out his house.”

  “But it was really Patricia’s house, wasn’t it? I’m sure I read in the paper that she’d inherited it from someone.”

  “She’d inherited it from her father, so yes, technically it was hers. I believe she was the one who wanted to keep it and rent it out, actually. She’d grown up in the house, and I don’t think she wanted to sell it, at least not straight away. If I’m remembering correctly, Mabel was their first tenant.”

  “What happened to the house after Mabel’s death? Do they still own it?”

  “They sold it almost immediately. The new owners tore it down and built a new, much larger house on the property.”

  “Maybe I’ll take a walk past the site later,” Fenella mused. “I know there won’t be anything to see, but it might be interesting anyway.”

  “It isn’t far from here.” Mona gave her directions. “Maybe you should settle for driving past. Don’t you need to get back to the kittens?”

  Fenella frowned. “I suppose I do. Do you have any other thoughts on the case?”

  “Nothing specific. I’m going to think about it while you’re gone, though. I hadn’t given Mabel Gross a single thought in years. Maybe I’ll be able to remember more now that you’ve reminded me of her.”

  “Maybe you could ask Max what he remembers,” Fenella suggested. Mona often talked about spending time with Max. According to Mona, Max spent most of his days in what had once been the hotel’s ballroom. It had now been divided into offices for the various employees of the apartment complex, but Mona always said she didn’t think Max noticed.

  “His memory isn’t reliable, unfortunately. I may mention the case to him in passing, but I don’t expect him to be able to help.”

  Fenella nodded, not sure how much to believe of what Mona said. “I’d better get going,” she sighed. “I’ll drive past where the house used to be and then get back to Poppy Drive before the kittens destroy all of the furniture.”

  “You’ll be back tomorrow?”

  “Yes, to see Katie, mostly.”

  “Thanks,” Mona said dryly.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I look forward to hearing about your conversation with Donna Cannon tomorrow, then,” Mona told her.

  “I’ll tell you all about my class, too.”

  “Oh, good,” Mona said flatly.

  Fenella made a face at her. “I’m really excited about the class. I’ve never been able to do research with original sixteenth- and seventeenth-century documents before. Learning how to read them is going to be fascinating.”

  Mona yawned and then shrugged. “And yet we’re related in some way.”

  Ignoring the comment seemed the safest thing to do. Fenella picked up her handbag and headed for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she told her aunt. Mona nodded and then slowly faded away. That was a neat trick, Fenella thought to herself as she locked her door behind her. She thought about popping back over to Shelly’s apartment, just for a minute, for one last snuggle with Katie, but she didn’t want to become an annoyance to her friend. Shelly was being kind enough to look after Katie. She didn’t need Fenella knocking on her door every five minutes for the duration of Katie’s stay.

  Following Mona’s directions, Fenella quickly found the house that had replaced the one where Mabel had been murdered. She was surprised to find a small crowd gathered in front of it. Unable to resist being nosy, she parked at the curb and joined them. A quick look around didn’t give her any clue as to why they were all standing on the sidewalk in front of the house.

  “What’s going on?” she asked eventually.

  A tall woman in a long black trench coat turned and looked at her. “It’s the murder house, isn’t it?” she replied. “A girl was murdered in there.” She nodded at the house in front of them and then went back to staring at it.

  Fenella looked at the house and then shook her head. “It’s not the same house,” she told the woman, hoping that Mona was right about what the new owners had done to the property. “That house was torn down.”

  “It’s the same thing,” the woman retorted, never taking her eyes off the house. “I can feel the girl’s ghost. She can’t get out because she was brutally murdered in her bed.”

  Except Jeanne had found the body in the kitchen, Fenella thought. She was sure she was remembering that fact correctly, but she didn’t want to argue with the woman.

  “The body was in the kitchen,” someone else from the crowd said.

  “That doesn’t mean she wasn’t murdered in her bed,” the first woman countered. “The killer might have dragged the body to the kitchen. Maybe he was going to take the body away and hide it, but then he was interrupted.”

  “Or maybe she got killed in the kitchen,” someone replied.

  “The ghost told me she was murdered in her bed,” the first woman said emphatically. “She should know.”

  “Ask her who did it,” a man urged. “Then you can tell the police and they can solve the case.”

  “She said it was a stranger,” the woman told him. “A man she didn’t know came to the door, and she was foolish enough to let him in.”

  “I think you’re crazy,” the man said. “You aren’t talking to a ghost. You’re just imagining things. Ghosts aren’t even real, are they?” he demanded, looking around the group.

  A few people muttered noes. Fenella kept her mouth shut. She took another look at the house and then headed back to her car. The house looked different enough from its neighbors to suggest that it had been built at a different time than the others. Mona was probably right. This was probably a completely different house. As for the ghost that may or may not have been in residence, she’d ask Mona about that. As she slid behind the steering wheel, another car stopped at the curb. Fenella recognized the driver of the police vehicle, and she quickly put her window down to eavesdrop.

  Constable Corlett stepped out of his car and approached the group on the sidewalk. “Good morning,” he said brightly to the small group.

  “Good morning, Constable,” one of the women replied. “We aren’t doing anything wrong. We’re just standing here.”

  “You’re worrying the neighbors,” the constable replied. “I’d appreciate it if you’d move along.”

  “But this was the murder house,” the woman in the trench coat told him. “It was in the paper today.”

  “That house was torn down years ago,” he told her. “This is a completely different house. No one has ever been murdered in this house.”

  “The ghost told me who did it,” she replied. “It was a stranger, someone from across, maybe.”

  Constable Corlett nodded. “I’ll pass that along to the inspector. If I could get your name, he may want to talk further with you.”

  The woman gave him a suspicious look and then began backing away from him. “I don’t need to give you my name. You need to talk to the ghost, not me. Anyway, I should be going.” She spun around and fled up the sidewalk, turning at the first corner and disappearing.

  Constable Corlett shook his head and then smiled at the others. “I really would appreciate it if you’d disperse.”

  “That was Annie Logan,” one of the men said. “She lives at the end of the road.”

  “Yes, I know Ms. Logan,” the constable replied. “I didn’t get your name, though.”

  The man nodded. “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?” He nodded at the group and then walk
ed over to a newer model luxury car. As he drove away, Fenella saw the constable making a note of the car’s plate number. That seemed to be all the other people needed to see. By the time the man’s car reached the end of the road, all of the others had scattered. The constable smiled and then walked over to Fenella’s car.

  “Hello, Ms. Woods. I wasn’t expecting to see you here today,” he said.

  “I was driving past and I wondered why the crowd had gathered. They were all just staring at the house.”

  “Yes, a lot of people have a macabre interest in murder.”

  The constable’s tone suggested that he would include Fenella on that list. She flushed. “I should be going,” she said. “I have kittens to look after.”

  He nodded. “I heard they’re hard work. Good luck.”

  As Fenella drove away, she wondered who’d been talking about the kittens with the constable. It wasn’t hard to imagine that the young constable who’d visited the house the previous evening had been telling everyone about it, of course. The fact that a police inspector had been involved would probably have made it an even more interesting story for the man to repeat over and over again.

  Back at the house, the kittens had managed to spill what looked like the entire contents of both food and water bowls all over the living room. Fenella corralled all four animals in with their mother before she cleaned up the mess. Once that was done, she let all five of them out and made herself some lunch.

  The rest of the day was mostly about cleaning up after kittens. The mother cat took a short walk around the house and then went and stood next to her playpen, mewing softly. Fenella put her back inside and the animal curled up and went to sleep. Wondering how long it had been since the cat had felt safe and secure, Fenella rubbed her head gently and then made sure she had plenty of food and water. The kittens chased one another everywhere around the house as Fenella sorted out what she needed for her class.

  “A notebook, three pencils, three pens. What else might I want?” she asked the kittens. They didn’t pay her any attention.