Deadly Clementine

“How he has managed to keep going and not have someone bump him off before now. He has all the finesse of a charging bull and doesn’t care who he annoys, but he is a straight-talker.”

Moss sighed. “Is that it?”

“Mr Aldwych, but he is no better. Still, they do their bit for the fair every year, so we mustn’t grumble.”

“Who do the villagers think is next?” Moss hated to ask but needed to know.

“Nobody knows, but we all know it is going to be one of them,” the Captain replied dourly. “From a location point of view, Clementine would be the hardest to kill because she is out and about a lot. All the villagers have been murdered at home. However, that is not to say that the killer isn’t averse to popping anybody off at any given moment, even when they are out on the street.”

“She is at risk no matter where she goes.” Moss nodded his understanding.

“What are you going to do about it?” The Captain asked after several moments of thoughtful silence. “Do you intend to go back to the town and leave her to get killed?”

“I can’t do that. You know I cannot. I just have to finish my investigation first.”

“People are dying here, Moss.”

“I know,” Moss sighed again. “I just need to try to understand what might have triggered the killer to take action. I mean, why strike now? Is the time of year relevant? Are the victims chosen for one reason or many? Do the deaths really have something to do with the fair, this committee Clementine is on, or did the deceased have something in common we don’t know about yet?”

The Captain snorted. “That’s your job to find out, not mine.”

Moss rolled his eyes. “It’s going to be damned difficult trying to do anything in a village like this.”

When the Captain looked at him, Moss nodded to a small face in the window of the house they passed. As they both looked at it the face darted out of sight leaving the men to share a rueful look.

“People are wary and on edge. It helps in a strange kind of way because people are now more observant. It is going to be a lot harder for the killer to walk amongst us without being noticed,” the Captain murmured.

“It is going to make it a lot harder for me to walk amongst you without being noticed.” Moss looked ruefully at his friend.

The Captain grinned. “Which is why you need Clementine.”

“She cannot be involved in the investigation.”

“Which is why you need Clementine,” the Captain persisted.

“This is a dangerous situation.”

“So, protect her.”

“Now I am supposed to protect her and solve this investigation at the same time?” Moss snorted. “You really don’t know much about my line of work, do you?”

“I know enough. I also know that you care about that young woman. No. No. Don’t try to fool me. I can see it every time you look at her. Besides, this village has nothing to offer a man like you, I know that, yet you keep coming back. While I do enjoy seeing you and enjoy your company, I know you only come here just to see her. However, there are two things I should like to point out.”

“Only two?” Moss snorted sarcastically.

The Captain pointedly ignored him. “Firstly, Clementine is pretty and single. I know for a fact that there a several estimable suitors vying for her attention. It is only a matter of time before she has her eye caught by one of them.”

“What?” Moss demanded, outraged at the notion.

The Captain sighed. “She is going to get married at some point, and probably not to you if you keep dawdling.”

Moss rolled his eyes. “Is there anything else?”

“Secondly, someone wants her dead. If someone else doesn’t come along and sweep her off her feet, the killer will. Can you really live with your conscience if you don’t do everything possible to keep her alive while you have the chance? What would you do if I told you that this fourth woman who has been murdered is Clementine?”

Moss stared at the Captain and went cold. Icy, bone chillingly frigid. Horror froze every fibre of his being and held it in death’s firm grip. It took him several moments to absorb what the Captain had just said, before the shock of it finally receded and left behind a hollow, aching, empty feel that seemed to be summoned up from his very soul.

“Is it?” Moss whispered.