Deadly Clementine

Mr Smorsley paused in the process of picking up his cane and glared at her. “We don’t need to meet that damned soon. This is a waste of time as it is. We have better things to do than keep traipsing here to tell you that everything is fine. I suggest we don’t meet again until the end of next week.”

“Then we can all sleep safely in our beds at night,” Mr Aldwych muttered beneath his breath but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Oh, dear. Are we all in danger still?” Mrs Kinnerton gasped. “I had hoped that was all over now and everything had died down.”

“Wrong analogy,” Mr Smorsley snorted crisply. “Let’s hope nobody else dies, eh?”

Clementine sighed and threw Moss a rueful look as she pushed out of her seat. Moss took his cue and rose as well.

“Are you that private detective person I have read about in the local broadsheets?” Elaine asked curiously.

“Yes, it is,” Clementine replied. “Moss has a reputation for being the best there is.”

“I didn’t realise you knew him,” Elaine gushed, her gaze lingering on Moss with something akin to hero worship hovering in the depths of her avid gaze.

“He is friends with the Captain,” Clementine replied.

“I know a few people in the area,” Moss interjected, not least because the ladies were talking about him as if he there. He was, for the first time in his life, starting to feel more of a commodity rather than a person, and it was annoying. What concerned him more was the scrutiny of Clementine’s friend. She was sizing him up as if he was a piece of beef she was deciding whether to buy or not, and it made him damned uncomfortable.

“Well, you are welcome to join our committee, if only so you can investigate the murder of the next poor sod to drop, eh?” Mr Smorsley muttered.

“That’s not very helpful,” Clementine chided.

“This whole damned village is falling apart,” Mr Aldwych interrupted. “It never used to happen when I was growing up, I can tell you that much. It is about time someone looked into what was behind it.”

Clementine sighed because she knew Mr Aldwych was apt to ramble on for hours if he wasn’t stopped.

“Look, now that the meeting is over, let’s all just go home so we can get on with our lives. We shall meet here at the end of next week. Everyone knows where we all live so if there is a serious problem we can call in on the others and tell them. Otherwise, we will just have to assume that everything is going according to plan,” Clementine announced.

“But the fair is so close, we need to have the meetings twice a week. I think we have to stick to the original plan and carry on as we are,” Elaine argued impatiently.

“But each time we have a meeting someone dies,” Clementine snapped.

“There is nothing to gain from being here. What have we achieved today?” Mrs Kinnerton interrupted; her apparent girlishness forgotten like a breath of wind. Her voice instantly turned stringent as did the militant glare in her eyes. “We have just checked in and made sure that everything is going according to plan. There hasn’t been the need to make any decisions. I suggest we all get on with it now and get this damned fair over and done with before there is no committee left to meet.”

Clementine’s brows shot up at the decisive tone of the older woman’s voice. There wasn’t even a hint of nervousness about the otherwise dithering older woman. This new facet to her character was such a contrast to how she had behaved when introduced to Moss just now that Clementine wondered what else she didn’t know about the woman.

“Let’s just set the deaths aside for now, shall we?” Moss interrupted, throwing Clementine a worried look. “The more people discuss it the more it is just going to worry everyone. For now, there is nothing to concern yourselves about. Everything is fine. Everybody is fine. Let’s just get on with our lives and put it all in the past where it belongs.”

“Here, here,” Mr Smorsley boomed.

“It will do no good pretending they haven’t happened,” Mr Aldwych retorted. “It is in the back of all of our minds because the poor sods are – were – our neighbours.”

“Speak for yourself,” Elaine snapped.

“Elaine doesn’t believe that there is anything suspicious about the deaths,” Clementine informed them.

“No, I don’t,” Elaine admitted, her eyes flashing. “And I am not going to stand here and pretend there is.”

“I never expected you would,” Clementine countered. Determined not to fall out with her friend, she busied herself putting on her shawl before turning to lift her brows at Moss. “Are you ready?”

“As I will ever be,” he replied readily, eager to get out of the village hall and away from the dour looks the committee were now throwing at each other.

For a group of people who seemingly didn’t like each other very much he had to wonder why they bothered to meet up at all.

But that is the eccentricity of village life, I suppose. I can only be glad that I am out of it.

When Moss looked at Clementine, he wondered if she would be better off out of it too.