I could slash my rent by ninety percent if I moved to one of the industrial estates – there were several less than half a mile from my office – but the rich and the famous would drive by me without ever thinking to stop.
The office boasts two bowed windows, one either side of the door. Each is divided into sixteen small panes that give the boutique and displays in the windows a wonderful old feel. They don’t make shops like this now. The period features make the front façade elegant in a way that could not be reproduced using modern materials. The building is over three hundred years old.
I loved all the little features of the place and how well preserved many of them were. Upstairs, there is a fireplace in one of the back bedrooms where children had scratched their names into the brickwork. Hidden inside the flue, I might never have noticed them if the estate agent hadn’t pointed it out to me. Someone – a former tenant – had traced the history of the building back to discover the names belonged to three children living in the house in the 1860s. They would all be long dead now, but their descendants might live in the area still and there was something deeply romantic about the building still holding their names.
I found Justin Cutler at his desk. Justin is in his forties and married with two children. Lean and average height, he also has average looks but wears fabulous suits that make him stand out. He is also one of those people who is brimming with natural confidence. In front of people being the centre of attention is his natural habitat. It made him a very good master of ceremonies. Today his shirt was a dusty shade of pink and his suit was bright white with a thin purple pinstripe. His shoes were white too with purple laces.
Not for the first time, I found myself wondering where he shopped.
Looking up over the top of his reading glasses to see who was coming in – most visitors were by appointment – he said, ‘Oh, hi, Felicity. I see you got away at last. What happened?’
When I called him earlier to cancel our lunch meeting, I gave him only a cursory explanation. Now he got the full run down.
Mindy, my niece and assistant (in that order) came in from a back room where she had been sorting through marketing materials. Now free of his lead, Buster scampered across the room to see her.
‘Is this about the Bleakwiths?’ she asked. ‘Justin said something happened and the police were involved.’
Mindy is as curious as every other teenager I have ever met, which is to say not even slightly interested unless it is something that interests her. I could try to explain marketing techniques and the use of colour for advertising until I was blue in the face; none of it would sink in. However, if I mention the name of a celebrity who might come by the boutique, she is all ears.
Someone getting pushed off a balcony also fell into the category of worth hearing about. At nineteen, Mindy has that almost perfect body most of us remember having. She is tall at nearly five feet ten inches, and moves with a sinuous, almost feral, quality. She wears a lot of black, tight-fitting clothing designed to move with her body and is a black belt third dan in karate, I recently learned. Her hair is pink, undercut with jet black to give an effect which I wouldn’t want for myself, yet must accept suits her. Today, she had on office wear – a grey pencil skirt and a silk blouse. The heels were colour matched to the blouse. I give her an allowance for clothing because in this game we need to look the part.
I backtracked a little going over the events of Derek’s house again so she could hear. I ended by admitting my foolish challenge to the chief inspector.
‘Oh, cool!’ cheered Mindy. ‘I can be your sidekick!’
I sniggered. ‘Buster already claimed that job.’
I got an odd look from both Justin and my niece and worried I was going to have to laugh it off as if it were just my little joke. I told you earlier I have a habit of forgetting no one else knows about my special ability.
Justin said, ‘Seriously though, you’re not going to investigate, are you?’
‘Goodness, no,’ I found myself laughing at the idea even though I had to acknowledge I rather fancied wiping the smile from the chief inspector’s face. ‘No, I have far too much to do already.’ I really did. Pushing silly thoughts of searching for clues from my mind, I took out my tablet. ‘I have notes from today’s meeting with the Bleakwiths.’ I got down to business, calling Mindy across to my desk. If I was going to treat her as a serious assistant and teach her the ropes, she needed to start learning how to manage people.
That could start with Tamara’s very exacting pink gerbera demands. When Mindy left the boutique ten minutes later with Buster leading the way, she was heading for Carson’s florist in the High Street. They were another firm with which I had a great relationship. They made sure my boutique was always stocked with a fresh bouquet in the window and I gave them a lot of business. With Mindy planning to collect coffee on the way
