A Woman About Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book IV)

One and a Half Puzzle Pieces

The next morning Imogen was slowly stirring her tea, when the Mayor sat down on a chair next to her.

"Darling, you haven't put sugar in your cup," he said softly. He took a sip from his mug and gave out a small cough. "And evidently, put it in mine twice."

Imogen smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry." She sighed. "I'm just trying to fit all these bits and bobs of information in some sort of a coherent picture." She scratched her head with the other end of the spoon. "The queens told me that eventually Barnett escorted Staunton out of the club. And Alexander Fergusson stayed behind. He was still in the club when Ethan Harris came to pick up his brother. Did I mention that Staunton was killed with Ethan Harris' hammer?"

The Mayor nodded.

"And Mrs. Harris was late that morning," Imogen continued her musings. "She'd messaged you in the middle of the night, telling you she wasn't coming in. It makes sense. Her son had just been assaulted, she wanted to stay with him. But then she still showed up, and the timeline of her movements that morning doesn't add up."

"If that's what happened that night, it's understandable that she could be hazy on some details," the Mayor pointed out.

"Yes, and the queens said that Frank didn't want anyone to know about the assault. So, perhaps, he insisted that she went to work. Which means only one thing."

"Which is what?" he asked with curiosity.

"Varya Bjornsson was late with her deliveries that morning." Imogen saw the Mayor's eyebrows jump up. "You see, we know that you arrived at the Town Hall at your regular time," Imogen explained. "You didn't go into your office right away because you got delayed, swirling on my chair, apparently," she added, and he snorted. "And when Mrs. Harris came in," Imogen continued, "she bumped into Varya outside, picked up the pastries, and assumed that it was earlier than it actually was. And you're right, she obviously would be at sixes and sevens, after the events at the club. Ergo, Varya was late."

"What does it mean in terms of your investigation?"

"Nothing?" Imogen shrugged. "Something? It's rather overwhelming." She groaned and bit into her triangle of toast. "Unlike my previous amateur endeavours, I have no shortage of evidence and clues. If anything, there's an obvious excess! And the more answers I get, the more new questions appear. For example," she exclaimed and waved the bread crust in the air, "why was Will Holyoake in the Town Hall that morning? He'd just appeared, right after you discovered the body. What was Sir Niklas digging for, somewhere around the Cole farm? How did Staunton end up in the Town Hall? What do the Harrises have to do with it, if at all?"

The Mayor gave out a small velvet laugh.

"I can answer one of these questions," he announced and grinned into Imogen's, no doubt, surprised face. "In actuality, maybe even one and a half," he added.

"How does one answer half a question exactly?" Imogen squinted at him theatrically, and he chortled.

"Firstly, a complete answer," he said cheekily. "Will Holyoake was in the Town Hall that morning because I'd invited him to drop by at his convenience. I reckon, his first convenience was rather early in the morning."

"Oh," Imogen exhaled. "I didn't realise it was an official visit."

"It wasn't," the Mayor answered. "I was going to ask him to be my best man."

"Oh? I know you've been close since he moved back to the county. And you've been on all those fishing trips together." Imogen stared at him.  "But– I expected you'd choose one of your uni friends. Hadn't you bonded with a few posh boys in your boarding school; and then carried those friendships into later years; and now that you're a prominent politician, and they are– well, I don't know, an MP or a famous barrister - shouldn't you keep in touch and have an occasional dinner at the club, whatever that means?"