Authors: Chrystle Fiedler
“This garden is modeled after the Chelsea Physic Garden in London, which both my aunt and I visited. The Chelsea Garden was founded in 1673 by the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries so that their apprentices could study the medicinal qualities of plants. Today it is one of the most important centers of botany and plant exchange in the world. With the
help of my team, especially Jackson Spade and Nate Marshall, I've modeled this garden on their vision. I hope you enjoy it!”
Jackson handed me the scissors, and I cut the ribbon as a photographer from the local paper snapped a shot. “I now proclaim the Claire Hagen Memorial Physic Garden open!”
The crowd cheered and Jackson pulled me into a hug. “Congratulations, Willow. You did it!”
“
We
did it,” I said, taking his hand, feeling happy and proud. “Now everyone, let's take the tour of Greenport's new garden of medicinal plants!”
I walked under the arch and entered the garden, the crowd trailing behind me. The lot was generous, a little over two acres, and I'd designed it in a grid pattern and packed it with plants. There were two main pathways, one on the left and one on the right, with the entrance on Front Street and the teahouse at the north end. The entire garden was surrounded by a six-foot fence. It felt safe and secluded, an oasis from daily life.
“Here you'll find a wide array of plants that contain proven therapeutic compounds,” I explained. “The beds are arranged according to area of treatment, from dermatology to cardiology.”
I pointed to the first section on the left. “These plants produce compounds that have anesthetic or pain-relieving properties.” I touch a long-stemmed herb with small, creamy-white flowers that bloomed from June to August. “For example, this is
Filipendual ulmaria,
or meadowsweet, which contains small quantities of salicylic acid, the active ingredient that is used in aspirin.”
The crowd moved in and inspected the plants and
the plaques in front of them, each with information about the Latin name, where the plant originated, and its properties.
Next, I moved on to the plant collection with anticancer properties, like
Catharanthus roseus
, or Madagascar periwinkle, which contains alkaloids used in anticancer drugs. I continued with my tour, introducing medicinal plants that had benefits for the skin, including aloe, which was for sale at our booth, as well as plants for lung disease, neurology and rheumatology, psychiatry, ophthalmology, and gastroenterology.
I headed to a sunny area of the garden next. When everyone gathered around, I said, “Here, we've planted a cardiology garden. I gestured to a tall plant with purplish flowers. “This is one of most well-known cardiac herbs.
Digitalis lanata,
or wooly foxglove, contains a cardiac glycoside known as digoxin that is extracted directly from the leaves and is used to control and prevent abnormal heart rhythms and strengthen the heartbeat.”
I turned back to look at the plant and noticed that there was something on the ground behind it. I asked the crowd to wait a moment and stepped around the plant bed. It looked like a piece of pink cotton cloth, but when I knelt down and tried to pick it up, I found that it was attached to an arm. I started to scream.
The arm belonged to Dr. Charles White. Burgundy-red blood dribbled from a gash in his forehead down into his sightless blue eyes. His rimless glasses lay next to him, broken and twisted. The not-so-good doctor was very, very dead.
chapter four
Willow McQuade's Favorite
Medicinal Plants
BILBERRY
Botanical name:
Vaccinium myrtillus
Medicinal uses: Bilberry, a close cousin to the blueberry, is a tasty plant with bright blue berries and verdant green shrubbery, used in jams, pies, and wines. But this antioxidant powerhouse also has many medicinal and healing purposes. Since the Middle Ages, it has been used to treat diarrhea, scurvy, and other conditions. Today, the fruit is also used to treat menstrual cramps, eye problems, varicose veins, venous insufficiency (poor blood flow to the heart), and other circulatory problems. The fruit and leaves of the bilberry plant can be eaten or made into extracts or used to make teas.
It was a good thing that we were in the cardiac section of the garden, because my heart felt like it had just stopped. I looked at the body again, hoping it was just a bad dream. No such luck. “It's Dr. White. He's dead,” I said, feeling light-headed. I stumbled backward, wanting to get away. But the crowd moved closer, anxious to see what was going on. A low murmur of whispers filled the air.
Jackson ran up to me, and I leaned on him as I pointed to the body. “You were just here,” I said, trembling. It suddenly seemed cold. Had we really eaten breakfast outside on the porch this morning? “How . . . how did this happen?”
He pulled me into a protective hug. “I don't know. But obviously someone killed him, and it happened after I left, in the past hour or so. We'd better call Koren.”
I tried to think clearly. “I just saw Koren at the parade.”
Jackson pulled out his phone and quickly texted the detective. Within minutes, Detective Koren was pushing through the crowd, holding his badge high, a crime-scene tech behind him.
“Police, coming through. Move aside, people, please!” He spotted us and walked over. “Don't tell me that you've found another dead body, Ms. McQuade.” He drilled me with a look.
I felt like crying and pressed my head into Jackson's chest.
“See for yourself, Koren,” Jackson said.
Koren squatted next to the body and took a pulse. “He's dead, all right.” His eyes scanned the body.
“Looks like he was whacked over the head. That's a nasty-looking wound.” He stood up and gazed around the area. “It could have been made with something like that.” He pointed to the shovel that leaned against the fence. “What exactly happened here?”
“I don't know,” I said. “Whoever did this must have done it during the parade, after Jackson left the garden.”
“What do you mean? Give me a timeline, please.”
But before I could answer, Simon pushed through the crowd and came over to us. “What's going on? Are they hassling you again, Willow?”
“Stay out of this, Lewis,” Detective Koren said. He had placed Simon under arrest last fall for the murder of a Hollywood producer. I had cleared Simon, but it didn't mean that Koren liked him. “You want to get yourself back in it again?”
“I just don't want Willow to say anything she shouldn't.” This was ironic, as Jackson and I had counseled him to do the same last year. Simon pulled me to the side. “I'll call my lawyer. He'll take care of this. I owe you one, Willow.”
“Thanks. I think I'm okay but I'll let you know.” I composed myself and turned to Koren. “To answer your question, Detective, I was working on setting up our booth until the parade started.”
“Yeah, she was with me,” Simon said. “I'll vouch for her.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lewis,” Koren said, and scribbled
something down in his notebook. “And you, Spade? Where were you?”
“I was in the garden, checking things out, making sure everything was ready for the opening,” Jackson said. “I spotted a plant that needed replacing, put in a new one, then went out to meet Willow to watch the parade. Whoever did this killed White between eleven, when I left the garden, and now.”
The detective pointed to the shovel. “You used this to replace the plant?”
Jackson nodded. “Yes, and that's all. Don't get any wild ideas in your head, Koren.”
“That's Detective Koren to you, Mr. Spade, and I heard about your fight with Dr. White last night.” Koren put on a plastic glove, stepped over to the fence, and picked up the shovel. “Sure you weren't getting back at him for harassing your girlfriend?”
“Of course not. White was making a scene, and Willow was upset. But if you think I would kill a man because he was being a jerk, you're crazy.”
Koren turned to the crime-scene tech. “Make sure you get this shovel.” He pulled out his phone and texted someone, probably his partner, Detective Coyle. While he did, I puzzled over the murder scene. How had this happened? Why was Dr. White here, of all places? Had he intended to cause trouble during the dedication and something had happened?
Koren finished texting and turned back to Jackson. “Men do strange things in the name of love, Mr. Spade. Are you sure you don't have anything else to say?”
“Jackson, you don't have to answer his questions,” Simon said. “Let me call my lawyer.”
“Back off, Lewis. I'm not going to say it again,” Koren warned him. “And I'm not going to hurt your ex-girlfriend's boyfriend. There's no need to call your big-shot lawyer.”
“He's just trying to help,” Willow said.
“Exactly,” Simon said. “Willow can help, too, Jackson. Look what she did for me. She's a great amateur detective. She's solved two murders already.”
It was ironic, but when we were living together in L.A. and I was working at a holistic clinic, Simon had been unsupportive and uninterested in my work. He began to look at me differently after I solved Aunt Claire's murder and later cleared him of murder charges.
“Hell, she's probably got a better track record than you do,” Simon said to Koren.
The detective went up to Simon and poked him in the chest. “I told you to back off. Stop interfering with my investigation.”
Mayor Hobson pushed through the crowd and went over to Detective Koren. “What's going on here? What's happened to the tour? I just stepped away to take a quick phone call. Has something happened?”
Koren turned to him and lowered his voice. “Yes, it seems that Dr. White has met an untimely demise in Ms. McQuade's garden.”
“What?” The mayor's cheeks became flushed. “This can't be happening, not now, not this weekend, not when we've worked so hard to make it a success. This is going to ruin everything!”
“So you were close to the deceased?” Detective Koren said. “You seem really choked up about it.”
The mayor turned on him. “Of course I'm not happy that the man is dead, but this is the Maritime Festival, Detective! Something like, this, well, it's just a disaster.”
Detective Coyle, also dressed in casual weekend clothes, came toward us with Joe Larson, my favoriteânotâtrustee behind him. Koren pulled Coyle to the side, while Larson zeroed in on the mayor. “Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?” He gave a short bark of a laugh. “Of course I didn't. This whole thing is a joke.”
“Shut up, Joe,” the mayor said. “White's dead.”
“What are you talking about? Charles is
dead
?”
“Yes,” Detective Koren said. “He's dead, Mr. Larson, please step back.”
Koren said something to Coyle. After which, Coyle said, “Okay, everybody, I want you all to back up and head for the entrance in an orderly line but do not leave. We'll need to talk to all of you.”
The crowd groaned but did as he asked. So much for my garden tour.
“This is all her fault,” Larson said, pointing at me.
“How do you figure that, Mr. Larson?” Detective Koren asked.
“It's exactly what Dr. White said last night. Ms. McQuade got this land illegally, and now this tragedy is going to shine a very unfavorable light on Greenport during the festival.”
“That is a blatant lie,” I retorted.
“That's enough, Joe,” the mayor said. “Leave it alone. Let the police do their work.”
“I'll need to talk to you, Mr. Larson, and the rest of
you,” Koren said. “This garden is officially closed for the rest of the weekend.”
“You can't do that,” I said. “It will ruin everything. We have tours scheduled.”
Tom Coster, a town trustee, a prominent local attorney, and a loyal customer of Claire's, who had advocated giving the land to me, said, “This seems capricious, Detective. This will ruin the opening weekend for the garden. Ms. McQuade and her friends have worked very hard to be ready for the festival. Surely you can work through the night and let her have the garden back in the morning, can't you? We're a tight-knit community here. Let's work together.”
“You're just saying that because you liked her aunt,” Larson replied, giving him a disgusted look. “Hell, that's why she got the lot in the first place. No one bothered to look further.”
“Joe, I told you to leave it and I mean it,” Mayor Hobson said, and pulled Detective Koren aside.
They spoke for a few minutes and then Detective Koren said, “Mayor Hobson and Mr. Coster are your new best friends Ms. McQuade. The garden will be closed but only until tomorrow morning. You can begin your tours again then.”
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
The police staked out the
garden, gathered evidence, and began to question everyone who had been in the garden for the opening. After they'd finished talking to Jackson, Simon, and me, we headed back to the store, first stopping to check the booth out front. Wallace and
Nate were busy with customers, and I noticed that half of the medicinal plants and some of the merchandise was already gone.
Wallace finished chatting with a customer, handed her a bag, smiled, and wished her a good day. I tapped him on the shoulder. “How is it going?”
He turned to me and said, “How are you doing? One of the people on the garden tour told me what happened! Is it true? Are you okay?”
“It's true and we're okay,” I said. “I'll tell you all about it later. Have you been busy? It looks like you've sold a bunch of stuff.”
“We have,” he replied as new customers made their way to the booth. “I don't think most people know what went on in the garden. In fact, we need more plants from out back.”
“I'll get a pallet.” Jackson grabbed the wagon and headed out back. Simon remained with me, which wasn't a surprise as he didn't enjoy manual labor of any kind. I wondered how long his stint at Nature's Way would last.
“I can go back to Ollie's later if we run out,” Nate offered. With his friendly personality and Peter Parker good looks, customers loved him almost as much as Wallace. “I'll need to get some for tomorrow, regardless.” He handed a healthy-looking aloe plant to a customer.
“Sounds good,” I said. Perhaps there was hope for my medicinal garden after all. “Thanks, guys. I'll check on you later.”
I looked at my watch and realized that it was already 1:25 p.m. I turned to Simon. “You and I are due at the Maritime Art and Photography exhibit in Mitchell
Park at two. We'd better get something to eat and go.” Simon and I had both been asked to be judges for the show, after which all the items would be auctioned off.
“Wait a minute,” Simon said as we climbed the stairs to the store. “Aren't you going to do something? You know, investigate, like you usually do?”
Investigating this murder would be an absolutely crazy thing to take on, given that it was Maritime Festival week and that I was trying to get my new garden project off the ground, so to speak. But I had to admit that part of me was interested in solving another puzzle. I was good at it. As Simon had said, I'd solved two murders, both before the police. Still, I couldn't imagine immersing myself in an investigation with everything else I had going on.
Then again, if the cops went after Jackson, because of the argument he'd had with White, I would have no choice. I would have to act.
I put the key into the lock and opened the door to Nature's Way. For a moment, I couldn't remember why the store was closed but then I realized that Merrily was competing in the pie contest, also in Mitchell Park, until two o'clock. This wasn't a problem since all of the action was outside today. “I'm not sure what I'm going to do,” I told Simon. “Right now, I'm hungry and I need to eat. How about you?”
“I could eat.”
I smiled. “You can always eat.” I went into the kitchen and proceeded to make lunch for the three of us. While I worked, Simon leaned across the kitchen counter and kept talking. “I mean, someone was killed in your garden and Detective Koren did seem
interested in Jackson. It also doesn't make the garden or Nature's Way look so good. You need to solve this thing, and quick. I know you can do it.”
“Thanks, Simon. I appreciate your confidence in my abilities,” I said as I placed the organic cheese quesadillas topped with sour cream and guacamole, blue corn chips, a bowl of salsa, and three glasses of passion fruit iced tea on a tray. “But I need to talk to Jackson first.”
“Talk to me about what?” Jackson walked into the kitchen.
“About investigating this case,” Simon said.
I handed the tray to Jackson. “I haven't decided anything yet.”
“Why don't we eat by the window?” Jackson carried the tray to the table near the plateglass window at the front of the store so we could see outside. Our booth out front was still drawing plenty of customers. After we sat down, he said, “How are you doing, McQuade?”
“Not so great,” I admitted. “We all worked really hard to make the garden perfect for the opening and then this happens. And even though I never liked Dr. White, I feel bad for his family.” I gave a shudder. “I have a feeling that I'm going to have nightmares about finding him like that.”
Jackson nodded. “It's not the kind of sight you get used to.”