Authors: Jenn McKinlay
As expected, Inspectors Franks and Simms just happened to be in the neighborhood during Viv and Fee's segment with Elise Stanford.
While the cameraman and his crew person packed up their equipment after the shoot, Elise and her producer, Sam, chatted with Viv and Fee.
I paced in front of the doors since it was my job to keep out any customers who wanted to come in during the filming. Viv and Fee had spent the morning staging the shop so that when Elise and crew arrived, they managed to get the interview done in about twenty minutes. I had to give it to Elise, she asked insightful questions about the hat business, Viv and Fee's creative process, and what they projected the future of hats to be.
About halfway through the interview, I spotted Franks
and Simms, standing across the street. They looked as if they were debating whether to come over or not. I considered sticking my head out the door and inviting them in, anything if it would get Elise in the perp chair and Harrison out, but I resisted. The interview was to air tomorrow and interrupting it would be detrimental to the shop, no matter how much I wanted to see Elise hauled away in handcuffs.
It was nothing personal, I just wanted to save my future boyfriend, yes, I had decided Harry would be my boyfriend just as soon as my ban on men was lifted. And I did not want my first boyfriend in forever to be one I only got to visit in the prison yard for an hour every other Saturday.
The hats in the front window didn't need rearranging but I fussed with them anyway as it gave me something to do. Since I wasn't a designer and couldn't talk intelligently about hats, I had not been invited to participate in the interview. This was fine with me. If I never had a camera pointed at my face again in this life, well, I would consider it a blessing.
Franks and Simms both had cardboard cups of coffee. I watched as they stood next to each other, talking as the steam rose out of their cups. I wondered if they were reviewing suspects. I squinted and tried to read their lips but Simms was a mumbler and I couldn't see Franks's mouth through his mustache.
It would have really made my day if one of them had mouthed the words “She's our killer,” but no, as far as I could tell, they were either debating the weather or comparing football scores.
I fluffed the enormous purple plume on a matching velvet mushroom hat. This was one of my favorites. Like
the cloche, the brim went down but this one also went out like a mushroom cap, hence the name, and I had yet to meet a woman who did not look good in the style.
When I glanced back up to where the inspectors had been standing, they had moved and were crossing the street in our direction. I wondered if they had been waiting on some crucial bit of evidence before moving forward. I closed my eyes and fervently hoped that Elise was arrested, yes, because I am an awful person.
I hurried over to the door and unlocked it. The camera crew thought it was for them and they thanked me on their way out.
“See you at the station,” the main guy called to Elise as they left.
“Editing room at three,” she called back. She waved with a genuine smile.
As the last of the crew departed, Franks and Sims made their way inside.
Viv called out, “So sorry, we're closed. Scarlett, you're supposed toâ”
“Good afternoon, Vivian, Scarlett and Fiona, isn't it? How are you?” Inspector Franks said.
There was a moment of surprise, well, not so much for me and Viv, but for everyone else, yeah, it was awkward.
“Oh, no, you're here to arrest me, aren't you?” Elise cried out. She put her fist to her lips as if to keep herself from saying any more. Then she fainted.
“Elise!” Sam Kerry, her producer, caught her right before she would have cracked her head on one of our tables.
He struggled under her dead weight and Inspector Simms darted forward to help him get her into a nearby chair.
“I'll get her some cold water,” Fee said and she hurried to the back room.
Inspector Franks strode forward, considering the newscaster carefully. He looked at Sam Kerry, who was rubbing her hands, and asked, “Does she faint often?”
“It's the first time that I know of,” Sam answered.
He was a burly man with a thick neck and hairy knuckles, but I liked him. I had the feeling that he was the sort of guy you wanted to have at your back in a fight. And I liked how he cared for Elise with such gentle concern. Regardless of the rest of us in the room with them, he seemed only aware of her.
It was clear to me that on his part, there was a lot more going on than a producer to talent relationship. I wondered if Elise had any idea or if she was one of those women who is so accustomed to being treated well because she is pretty that she had no idea that the amount of care and concern he was giving her was above and beyond.
“Why does she think we're here to arrest her?” Franks asked.
I saw the back of Sam's neck turn deep red. And when he swung around, I saw his face was just as flushed. He glared at Franks. “You're not going to, not if I have anything to say about it.”
“Well, you don't have anything to say about it, do you?” Franks snapped.
It was clear he was losing his patience. I glanced at Viv and she looked as wide eyed as I felt. Simms cleared his throat and Franks visibly pulled himself together.
Fee came dashing back into the room with a glass of water and a cool cloth. Sam put the cool cloth on the back
of Elise's neck and she slowly roused out of her faint. She looked startled to find herself draped in a chair with six people staring down at her.
She clutched Sam's hand and asked, “What happened?”
I glanced at Franks. His eyes were narrowed and I wondered if he was trying to decide how good of an actress Elise was. If she was faking this, I had to give her two thumbs up. She looked genuinely distraught and I felt bad that I had engineered the entire meeting, but if it saved Harrison, I would learn to live with it.
“You fainted, love,” Sam said. His voice was gentle and kind. “You've been under a lot of stress and I think it best if we get you to a doctor.”
“No!” Elise shook her enviable mane of thick brown hair. “The inspectors are here for a reason; I'd hear it now and be done with it.”
Sam shook his head, but Elise sat up and took the cloth off the back of her neck. Fee held out the water to her and Elise smiled her thanks and drank it down. The color came back to her cheeks and she turned her gaze on Inspector Franks.
“I apologize for my behavior. It's been a trying few days,” she said. She gestured for him to take the seat across from her.
Inspector Franks took the seat and braced his elbows on his knees. He was still giving her the squinty eye, but I could see her apology had smoothed his ruffled feathers a bit.
“I imagine it has been,” Franks said not unkindly.
Sam stood beside Elise's chair and I noticed that Simms mirrored his position. If I didn't know better, I would think
I was watching a live chess match. So far, it seemed Franks had checked her at every move but now it was my turn.
“You know, don't you?” Elise asked me.
I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle. Sweat dampened my palms as I took a steadying breath.
“About the true nature of your relationship with Mr. Dashavoy?” I asked. I felt Franks turn to look at me in surprise. I'd had a few days to think about Elise and Win and I didn't like what I'd determined. “Yes, I do.”
Elise gasped and shot me a hurt look. Yes, my conscience spasmed, but I ignored it. She glanced down at her lap. Her hands were clasped so tightly that her knuckles were white.
“At the party when Win was . . .” I paused. What had he been doing, making a pass? No. His actions had been aggressive and mean; that wasn't a pass which was open to refusal. It was unwelcome attention that had been forced upon my person, which in my book was assault.
I cleared my throat before I continued, “When Win was assaulting me . . .” I had to pause again for the collective gasping. Yes, I imagined speaking so plainly was a bit jarring. I really didn't care. I wasn't going to pretend what had happened was okay. It wasn't. “He was drunk and he spoke about not letting
her
get away with it. That he was tired of being told how to act and how to behave and to smile pretty for the camera. I didn't know who he was talking about until I heard that the two of you were involved.”
“So naturally you decided to mention it in front of the inspectors,” Elise said.
I shrugged. “My friend is being accused of murder and I know he didn't do it.”
“Neither did I,” Elise protested. She glanced at Viv, Fee and then me. “You don't believe me.”
“If you'd prefer, we can continue this conversation elsewhere,” Franks said.
“No,” Elise said. “I imagine it will all become public in a matter of hours anyway.”
“Your relationship with Winthrop Dashavoy wasâ” he began but she interrupted.
“False,” she said. “The entire thing was a fabrication created by my agent to boost my profile with the press.”
“You weren't engaged then?” Simms asked. It was the first time he had addressed Elise directly, and I saw Franks give him a look.
“No,” she said.
“And you were not dating?” he asked.
“Not in the traditional sense,” she said. She gave us a rueful glance. “Ours was a match made in media heaven. A morning show anchor dating one of the richest men in London; it seemed like such a good idea when my agent pitched it to me.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“Win was great in the beginning,” she said. “Clever, charming and very photogenic, he really did boost my status at first.”
“What happened next?” Franks asked. This time I saw Simms give him a look. I didn't think that I was imagining a tension between the two of them.
“He became increasingly demanding,” she said. “He seemed to forget that I was the arm candy that was supposed to bolster his credibility, which was suffering after several business ventures went awry.”
“Did he harm you?”
“Fat chance of that!” Sam said. “I never left her alone with him.”
Elise gave Sam a tender smile, the sort of smile a girl gives only to her knight in shining armor. This told me more than anything that Elise's relationship with Win had never been more than window dressing.
“No, he didn't harm me, but he was beginning to tarnish my reputation with his behavior, the drinking, the drugs, the public scenes with tawdry girls,” she said. “I wanted out. I begged him to end the phony relationship but he refused.”
“Why?” Viv asked. “Clearly, it wasn't doing him any good or he would have valued it more.”
“I think he liked torturing me,” Elise said. “The more upset I got, the more outlandish his behavior became. He was sick and twisted that way.”
“What happened at the party?” Franks asked.
Elise and Sam exchanged a glance. It was obvious they were trying to decide if they needed to call for an attorney before they continued talking.
“As I said, we can always do this elsewhere, such as the station, if you'd be more comfortable,” Franks said.
“You're quite the pushy git, aren't you?” Sam growled.
“Oy, mind your tone,” Franks barked.
“Everyone calm down, yeah?” Fee asked.
“I'm sorry,” Elise said. “It's been a very difficult time. My ratings are down and the network has put me on probation.”
Her eyes watered up and I glanced away. Now I was beginning to feel the guilt of having her walk into what was essentially an ambush.
“Win was drunk, not a surprise, at the party,” she said. “The
Daily Mail
had just published another story about him and I told him I was fed up with it. I told him I was ending the arrangement.”
“Then what happened?” Franks asked.
“He told me that if I ended our relationship, he would ruin my career,” she said.