Abigail: Chapter 1
“I think I’ve killed my husband.” The voice on the other end of the phone sounded tearful.
“Let me guess,” I said. “In the library with the candlestick?” I smiled but then mentally told myself off.
“What? No!” The voice hesitated. “Is this Ms Diamond?”
“Speaking, although you can call me Charlie. And you are?”
“Abigail. Abigail Rogers.”
“Have you phoned the police Mrs Rogers?” I enjoyed getting my information fresh but a bloody corpse was likely to put me off my lunch.
“They weren’t very interested. Said he was a low risk.”
A low risk death? I could feel my head starting to throb. That made no sense at all. I glanced at the time and realised I’d completely missed lunch. I’d been sitting outside the same boring white house for nearly three hours now. It was time for a break and Mrs Rogers and her dead husband sounded like as good an excuse as any.
“And you thought I could help?”
“I was hoping so, yes.”
“Tell you what,” I said, feeling uncharacteristically charitable, “how about I pop round, you can make us both a cuppa, and tell me all about it?”
“You’d do that?” Abigail’s voice sounded instantly lighter.
“Of course. What’s the address?”
I listened as she rattled off an address in a nearby town, mentally calculating how long it would take me to reach her with traffic and agreed to be there in about an hour. With one last glance at the still deserted house, I started the van and headed home. By my calculations I had just enough time to make a quick coffee and let the dog out to do her business before meeting with Abigail. If the police were in no rush, I didn’t see why I had to be.
As I drove I thought about my morning. When people ask the, ‘so what do you do?’ question I usually tell them I’m a plumber, but very occasionally, when the wind is blowing from the right direction or I fancy a change from being quizzed about leaky faucets, I tell them about my side gig as Charlie Diamond, most sought after private investigator this side of the Severn Bridge. I can tell they think it’s really exciting and glamorous. Their eyes light up and after asking me if I’ve ever killed anyone, they usually tell me about their brother’s wife’s cousin’s friend of a friend who used to be a detective once and, do I know them? What they don’t see and would never believe is the hours and hours I spend hanging around on my own waiting. If I were less comfortable with my own company some might even go so far as to call it lonely but not me. I love the anonymity, drifting between the shadows. The invisible woman, fighting crime and going where even the police fear to tread. Or so I like to tell myself.
It didn’t surprise me that Abigail had been fobbed off by the boys in blue. Although, if she’d really killed him, that had to warrant at least a little of their time, didn’t it? I decided to hold off making any judgements until I’d met with her. Jumping to conclusions was a mug’s game and never ended well, especially not for an investigator like me who worked on commission and had a reputation to maintain.
I gave my front door a shove as I turned the key. Stupid thing always stuck in winter but Jonathan had never got round to fixing it and the only thing he was likely to fiddle now were his child support payments. As the door opened, my crazy dog Missy jumped up from her position on the sofa and came to welcome me home. She followed me as I led her in the direction of the kitchen, dancing around in little circles. As I reached into the tin to grab her a biscuit she sat obediently on her hind legs and looked at me, her head tilted slightly. As soon as the treat was in her mouth she ran off out of sight to devour it. I couldn’t help but smile, she was very easily pleased.
After opening the backdoor to let her go out, knowing that as soon as the food was eaten she’d be back, it was time put the kettle on. I was long overdue a caffeine fix although this one would need to be drunk on the road. I was about to call Missy when she started barking at the front door. I hadn’t heard anyone knock but she was always more reliable than me.
Standing on the other side of the door was Julie, my well-meaning and ever so earnest if a little overbearing, neighbour from across the road.
“Got a parcel for you Charlotte,” she said, waving a brown box in my direction.
I hid my grimace. It didn’t seem to matter how many times I reminded her that my name was Charlie, she always insisted upon trying to make me sound all girly. I’d never introduced her to my mother but I had a feeling they’d be firm friends.
“Thanks.” I took the parcel and made to head back inside but Julie it seemed, had other ideas.
“How are the children? Such a difficult age.” She shook her head sadly. She seemed to take it as a personal affront that one of her neighbours should end up a divorce statistic.
“They’re both fine thanks. In school.”
“And how are you? Busy day?” She smiled.
“Much the same as any day really.” I always hoped that by keeping my answers short she might one day take the hint and let me escape quickly. Today was not going to be that day.
“Did you hear the racket from three doors down?” Julie’s eyes had gone wide. Ah, now we’re getting to it, I thought.
“No?”
“Right old fuss and nonsense. Shouting and arguing. It’s a wonder they didn’t wake the whole street!”
“Can’t say I noticed, Julie.” I paused, waiting to see if she had anything more to say on the subject and when she didn’t speak, took that as my cue. “Anyway, thanks for this.” I gestured to the parcel. “Better be getting in. Need to feed the dog.”
“Was thinking about starting a petition. Get a cease and desist from the council.”
“I don’t think you need a petition for that Julie. Just ask to speak to someone and they’ll sort it out. Although, it’s not a cease and desist you’re after. They might not do much about a bit of arguing.”
Julie raised her eyebrows. “Didn’t have you down as the expert Charlotte.”
“It’s Charlie, and I’m not.” I shrugged. “Just trying to help. Anyway, must go. Thanks again for taking this in.” I gestured to the parcel with a smile and then closed the door. I knew that if I stopped to open the parcel now I’d be late so I stored it neatly in my office and, after calling Missy in, gave her a fuss and headed back out to the van. Julie was still standing outside her house, apparently watching the traffic in and out of the village. I gave her a wave and then jumped in the van. My tummy gave that now all too familiar flutter of nervous excitement. Okay Abigail, let’s see what you’ve got for me.