Up from the Grave (12 page)

Berdie loved this time of year, spring in its resplendence. The twilight of evening approached at a much slower pace. The cherished sunlight lingered a bit longer each day as if to enjoy the scent of spring florals. The meeting at Ivy’s now far behind her, she stood in Timsley, here at the entrance of Le Petit Chaumier, which only added to the delight of dusky shadows and light breezes.

The immensely popular, prize-winning French restaurant was housed in what was once a stone washed garden cottage. The size of the structure, petit, and the fact it had a thatched roof, invited the romantic vision of a jolly chaumier, humming as he worked, grooming the thatch which kept warmth within and storms without.

Even though they had reservations, Berdie, Lillie, and Loren, joined other expectant diners on the front walk, while Hugh still circled the nearby car park for a coveted spot. The area buzzed with conversation as hungry humanity waited and happily sated patrons departed.

Berdie smelled of rose from her pampering soak she enjoyed earlier. She chose to wear her tailored celery green silk top. The sensuous feel of it against her skin delighted. Her very comfortable straight black skirt, she decided, complimented the top quite well. It struck just the right note between style and ease.

Lillie, on the other hand, looked luxurious in a black sheath with a white organdy shrug that absolutely teased. It exposed her slender arms and curved shoulders, a move Berdie recognized as a counter attack to the oversized tatty jumper of two days ago.

Loren stood close to Lillie. The allure of his smoky dark eyes and graying temples was given a boost by his darkest-of-blue suit.

Berdie took in how really handsome Lillie and Loren were as a couple. However, it appeared to be a tender truce that held them together at the moment, Loren a bit off his game and Lillie hardily entrenched in hers.

“Perhaps we should call out the local constabulary to search for my dear husband.” Berdie created a light note to the evening air.

“Ah, yes, speaking of constabulary.” Dr. Meredith moved his eyes in a quick sweep of the crowd. He lowered his voice. “We’ve made some headway on the ID of your garden bones.”

“Indeed?” Berdie kept her voice subdued. “Go on then. Don’t keep us on tenterhooks.”

“It seems the victim, a lad approximately two and a half to three years of age, died about twenty-some years ago.”

“You can tell that?” Lillie quizzed.

“Not especially easily, but yes. He was well nourished with no apparent signs of battering.”

“But you said there were indications of trauma,” Berdie recalled.

“Yes.” The doctor once again glanced about the crowd. “The injuries are more consistent with a sudden impact.”

“Like an auto accident?”

“Perhaps, but we believe the child may have had a severe fall and from a fairly significant height, died on impact.”

“Poor tot,” Lillie murmured almost under her breath.

“So, from a tree, a balcony, or a landing, down a stairwell.” Berdie reasoned.

“Quite possibly.” The pathologist nodded. “Most likely a firm surfaced interior, not out of doors.”

“That’s a very broad sketch.” Berdie was keen to know if there could be something more.

“We’ve one hopeful detail that could be central for the investigation.”

Berdie’s ears stood at attention.

“Not much mind you.” The doctor looked Berdie in the eye. “This information is given in confidence that it will be used well.”

“Indeed.” She knew the truth of what he was saying. “In the right hands, not much can become a great deal, Loren.”

Dr. Meredith became pensive. “We found a shard of very distinctive glass lodged at the base of the skull. Very rare glass and worth a small fortune when intact. It’s opalescent. Produced in Venice during the seventeen hundreds.”

“But you just said the death occurred twenty years ago,” Lillie interjected. “How does eighteenth century Venetian glass fit with a child that died in the eighties? And in English soil at that.”

“Perhaps you should ask Berdie that question,” the doctor recommended. He lifted his dark brows.

“Well?” Lillie directed towards Berdie.

“One of the first lines of inquiry: where would you find antiquated, expensive, Venetian glass in England?”

“A museum, in my thinking.” Lillie shrugged.

“Or a collector of that design.” The doctor dipped his chin.

“Right. Museum is too public for a clandestine cover up. But now, collectors. Yes. And it’s highly unlikely that a worker at the Super Sudsy Launderette would collect costly, rare glass,” Berdie twittered with a note of irony.

“So a rich glass collector with a landing,” Lillie summed up. “Well, that narrows it down to only one third of the population of England as suspects, I should think.”

“Well done, Lillie,” Berdie congratulated. “It’s taken only two minutes to eliminate two thirds of the populace.”

The doctor laughed. “That’s certainly glass-half-full thinking.”

“The point is, it’s a place to start, and our little village is ground zero.” Berdie smiled. She had a distant thought that came tumbling forward. “In fact…”

Berdie was interrupted by a rush of laughter. “Imagine seeing you here.”

A high-spirited Charles Swindon-Pierce deposited himself next to Berdie. “Hello, all.” He grinned, Robin Darbyshire at his side. Both were in trendy dress. “Where’s the collar then?”

“If you mean my husband,” Berdie worked at being agreeable, “he’s due to arrive any moment.”

“I see,” the man responded.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” Robin smiled.

Lillie was quick to introduce Dr. Meredith.

Charles tipped his head politely, but Robin seemed completely uninterested.

“Just arriving?” Charles asked. And before any could respond, he went on, “Let me recommend the
Boeuf Fumé au Truffes
, a cut of superb beef, laden with fresh and,” he raised an index finger, “they’re truly fresh mind you, aromatic shaved truffles. Absolutely a five-star dish.”

And a five star price I shouldn’t wonder
. Berdie made a step back as the animated Charles, so wildly exuberant, just missed giving her a bump. It was very unlike the man she met at Bampkingswith Hall. And his words were also bumping—into one another, that is.

“Come Charles,” Robin said warmly. “You’re boring them.”

“Not at all.” Dr. Meredith grinned.

“Ah, my husband approaches.” Berdie wanted the couple to notice how handsome and stately the “collar” was.

“Vicar,” Mr. Swindon-Pierce acknowledged. “I’m just making recommends you know.” The young man swirled into an accolade of the featured dessert. “
Chocolate du la Fleur
,” he raved. “Truffles, not the earthen ones,” he said shaking his well-groomed head, “no, these are fine chocolates infused with
eau d’orange
blossom. Absolutely brilliant, weren’t they Robbie?”

“Charlie,” Robin pleaded. “Yes, absolutely brilliant.” She giggled. “Now let them go have their dinner.” She gave Hugh a tip of the chin, slipped her arm around Charles’ elbow, and began a forward motion. “Please excuse us,” she offered as a fare-thee-well.

“Robbie never finishes her food.” The young man continued pontificating even when taking steps. “But she ate all her
Chocolate du la Fleur
.” He called over his shoulder, “And they’re served with as much champagne as you wish.”

“Of which I’d say his wishes were fully granted.” Hugh had a gracious way of expressing things.

“That certainly explains his affable behavior.” Berdie looked after the couple who hailed a taxi.

“Affable and then some.” Lillie did not seem remotely amused.

“Thank you for the suggestions,” Loren called out to the man as a postscript then turned to Hugh. “He’s right, you know. The chef has been offering more truffle dishes, ‘earthen ones that is,’” he parodied. “The beef with shaved truffles is a gourmand delight. I had it just last night.”

“Just last night?” Lillie tipped her head. “But you didn’t say.”

The doctor looked like a child who’s just gotten caught eating an Easter bun before mealtime. “Didn’t I?”

“Dare I ask with whom?” Lillie had a hard edge in her question.

“Lillie,” The doctor spoke softly and took her hand, but she appeared unaffected. “Some from work.”

“Some from work.” Lillie’s hard edge became sharp. “Could that some include the free-as-a-bird Roz?”

“Lillie, please. It was a late night reprieve, a bit of a lark, after being at it all day.”

“Oh, I can imagine.” Lillie thrust the words like bullets.

“Please, let’s enjoy our evening.” Loren squeezed her hand.

Berdie hooked Hugh’s elbow. “I’m parched, love.” She stretched the truth. “Perhaps we can go get Pimm’s in the lounge.” She looked knowingly at Hugh, that discreet We-Should-Leave-Momentarily look.

“Oh, indeed.” Hugh nodded. “We can meet you at the dinner table.” He cautiously looked to Loren and then Lillie.

A barely audible vibrating bzzz of a mobile phone cut into the conversation. It may as well have been the ear-piercing spring call of courting grouse.

Berdie’s shoulders went taut.

Hugh raised his left eyebrow.

Lillie churned and Loren took a deep inhale.

Hugh stuck his hand into his trouser pocket feeling for his mobile phone.

“Not mine,” he said with relief. Berdie then realized that Hugh’s respite was probably Loren’s demise.

“No.” Lillie squeezed the single word out of her tightened lips.

Loren took another deep breath then pulled the mobile from his inside pocket.

“Meredith,” he answered.

Lillie pulled her hand from his grasp so abruptly it made her dark curls dance.

Dr. Meredith’s jaw tightened. “Now?”

Lillie lifted her chin and crossed her arms.

Berdie, Hugh in tow, took a step towards the restaurant door, but Lillie caught Berdie’s arm. “Stay,” Lillie mouthed without speaking.

Dr. Meredith spoke into the mobile. “Did you try to get Harry, Roz?”

“Even worse.” Lillie’s eyes narrowed. “Did she know we were having dinner together, here, this evening?” Lillie’s volume was not polite.

Loren raised his palm, indicating a need for Lillie to quiet. He muted his voice, but every word was clearly overheard, “Give me forty minutes.”

Judging by Lillie’s stiff posture, Berdie had the sense the worst was yet to come. Mind you, the doctor clearly had his duty, but was Roz really his duty? Still, Berdie felt compelled to reason with her friend.

“Lillie, try not to overreact,” Berdie said discreetly. Her comment was met with not even an ounce of acknowledgement.

“Yes, all right, OK,” the pathologist sounded frayed. “Thirty minutes, then.” Loren snapped the mobile back into his pocket. “Lillie…”

“Thirty minutes.” Lillie had a face like thunder, and her voice matched it. “You have the nerve to offer me, us, thirty minutes of your precious time.”

Several people in the crowd had stopped chatting and were now staring at what was unfolding.

“Well, let me tell you how many precious moments I have to give you this evening.” Lillie blazed. “None.”

She turned on her heel and began a rapid push down the walk. With great drama, she lifted her hand and moved to the road’s edge. “Taxi,” she bellowed, her face gone scarlet.

“Lillie, it’s the demands of my job,” Loren appealed.

“Of your job. Demands of a designing woman you mean.”

By now, all eyes were on the lovely Lillie turned raging storm. She stood in the street flaying her arms. “Taxi,” she shouted again.

“Can’t you do something?” the perplexed and desperate Loren asked Hugh.

Hugh balked. “Sorry mate, it’s between you and her.” He said it with some sympathy.

Loren looked to Berdie.

“I take Hugh’s part.”

A taxi screeched to a halt, and Lillie clamored inside. Like a startled April hare, the vehicle hastily retreated down the road.

Loren put his hands on his head and drew them to the back of his neck. He released a heavy sigh.

Murmurs swelled through the awaiting diners. A young woman who had observed the entire episode approached Loren.

“Swine,” she breathed and huffed off.

Loren looked startled. He became stunningly aware of the crowd who gazed at him then turned away. His bewildered eyes fell upon Hugh and Berdie.

“Well,” was all he could muster.

“Yes, well,” Hugh restated.

“I’m so sorry. Perhaps I should push off.” The doctor’s voice sounded like a Sunday balloon that’s lost all its air. “Roz is waiting for me at the lab.”

“Yes,” Hugh agreed. “No need to hang about on our account.”

“Loren, if I may.” Berdie heard the swirling words inside exit her mouth. “I should be very careful. Your work, and loyalty duly noted, is one thing. But, an attractive female who certainly gives off the sense that she’s willing to, well frankly, put it about a bit, is quite another matter.”

“Berdie!” Hugh scolded. Face flushed, he turned his full attention to Loren. “When you feel up to it, ring me. We can meet for coffee.”

Loren smiled weakly. “Right.” He nodded. “I should think I’ll need that.”

Berdie could see Loren work at standing tall. She had never known him to lose his moorings as he apparently had now, at least momentarily.

“Cheers, then.” He nodded again.

“Cheers,” Berdie and Hugh said simultaneously.

Loren pulled car keys from his suit pocket and began a lonely trek to the car park.

“God go with you,” Hugh offered.

And with us all, Berdie thought. “Hugh, did we have such fuss and speculations when we were going out?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Oh, dear.” Berdie was circumspect. Then a distant memory of Hugh’s first days in the military popped into her present psyche. Ah, yes, Hugh’s dutiful and gorgeous assistant. “Lieutenant Julia Goodwin.”

“Right in one.”

“Yes, well we managed our way through that one, didn’t we?”

“Quite well, as I recall.”

He glanced about, looking past the voyeuristic crowd. He inhaled the freshness of the spring dusk. Berdie could see by Hugh’s expression that he was taking in a new opportunity to find goodness and all it had to offer. “You know, I believe I fancy a good sausage and mash.” He smiled his enigmatic smile that never ceased to win Berdie’s heart.