The message that came back from Sara had suggested Josie Achter was not about to be very accommodating. Friday was a busy day for her. The only time she could make a meeting was at eight in the morning. As the supplicant, Jude was in no position to argue.
They had agreed that Sara would let her in at seven forty-five for her meeting with Josie at eight o’clock, which was also the time at which Polly’s Cake Shop opened to the general public.
Once inside, Jude said, ‘Well, can you show me?’
‘Show you what?’ asked Sara, already changed ready for work into her black dress, white apron and cap.
‘The store room. Where you saw the dead body.’
The young woman blushed. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’
‘You don’t know whether you can let me see it?’
‘No. I don’t know whether I saw it.’
‘The body?’
She nodded awkwardly. ‘Yes, I … I was in a bad state then. You know, like when I first came to consult you. I was seeing things.’
‘You gave me a pretty convincing description of the man you found.’ Sara looked even more uneasy. ‘And then there was the blood on your handkerchief …’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you put that in the wash?’
A shake of the head. ‘It still worries me … the thought of going back to where I was when … you know, mentally.’
‘Yes. You’re not going back there, Sara,’ said Jude forcefully.
‘But if I’m starting to see things that aren’t there again …’
‘And you seriously think it wasn’t there? You didn’t see a body at all?’
‘No, I’m sure I didn’t.’
But Sara still sounded confused and Jude wasn’t so sure. ‘Well, whether you did or didn’t, you can still show me the store room.’
Silently, buttoning up objections, Sara Courtney did as she was told. She led Jude through the kitchen, where a whistling chef was opening plastic boxes of bacon and sausages ready for the breakfast orders. He waved cheerily at the two of them. ‘Morning, gorgeous,’ he said to Sara.
‘Morning, Hammo. This is my friend Jude.’
‘Morning, other gorgeous,’ he said. ‘I’m Hammo.’ He wore a striped bandana tight round gingerish hair and his green eyes flickered with mischief.
‘Pleased to meet you.’
He must have read a slight hesitation in her voice and felt an explanation was needed. ‘Yes, Hammo. Unusual name, I admit. And it’s nothing to do with the quality of my ham sandwiches. It comes from school – take too long to explain but its origin follows impeccable twelve-year-old logic.’
‘I’ll take your word for that.’
‘Can I get you a coffee or something, Jude?’
‘No, just had some, thank you.’ And no doubt, she reckoned, she’d be offered more when she got up to Josie’s flat.
Hammo looked up at the sound of someone else coming in through the street door. ‘Ooh, I’m spoilt for choice this morning, aren’t I? Another gorgeous woman coming into my kitchen. And a highly intelligent one too.’
‘You don’t fool me, Hammo,’ said an approaching female voice, smoked to a turn by cigarettes. ‘I know you only want me for my body.’
Jude turned to face the newcomer. A tall woman with grey hair bundled into an old-fashioned ballet dancer’s bun, she wore a bright orange coat and pink shiny boots.
‘Morning, Binnie,’ said Sara and Hammo together. ‘This is Binnie Swales who—’
But the woman called Binnie interrupted the introduction. ‘I know you. Jude, isn’t it? You like éclairs.’
‘I certainly do. Yes, you’ve often served me over the years.’
‘Over the years?’ Binnie blew out a sceptically thin column of air. ‘Yes, a good few years they’ve been too. I’ve been here since before the Flood.’
‘Oh, you mean three or four years ago, when those freak high tides—’
‘I was referring to the biblical one,’ said Binnie. Then she set off towards the Ladies. ‘I must just slip into something less garish,’ she said.
Hammo and Sara grinned at each other. Binnie Swales was clearly something of a character around Polly’s Cake Shop.
Hammo returned to his breakfast preparations as Sara said, ‘Come on. Have a look.’ And opened the store-room door.
It was exactly as she had described it. Two large upright freezers against one wall and deep wooden shelves on the other. A lot of mostly janitorial supplies stacked up on them. The only food items were big boxes of dried packaged items like crisps, noodles and pasta. The whole area was scrubbed spotless. Any residual thoughts in Jude’s mind that there might be visible evidence of a corpse having rested on the store-room floor nearly a fortnight before were quickly dispelled.
She looked around the space. ‘And where did you say you saw the gun?’
It was a cheap shot which she wasn’t very proud of, taking Sara off balance like that, but it worked, eliciting the reply, ‘On the windowsill by the back door.’
‘Right.’ Jude moved quickly on before Sara became aware of her lapse. ‘I noticed the door wasn’t locked. Does everyone have access to this room?’
‘Yes, of course. Whoever needs to stock up from something in here, they just come and get it.’
Jude nodded. Apart from the one through which they had entered, there was another more solid-looking door at the far end. ‘That’s the one that leads out to the beach?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Well, it leads out to the yard, then the service road, then the dunes.’
‘Can you open it?’
‘Sure.’ Sara pushed a horizontal bar on the door and it swung open. The wind was riding up over Fethering Beach and the smell of the sea was almost overpowering.
‘Can the door be opened from the outside?’
‘Not without a key, no.’
‘And is it on the burglar alarm system?’
‘Yes. When that’s set, it works for all the entrances to the café.’
‘And what about the flat upstairs? Is that on the same system?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never thought to ask. But I would assume so.’
Jude wandered out into the little yard. It was tidy and uncluttered. Wide gates leading to the service road were held closed by a chain and padlock. When opened they would have allowed delivery lorries to back in to get as near as possible to the store room. They could also presumably, if required, have allowed a corpse to enter and depart.
She turned back and looked into the dark eyes of Sara Courtney. ‘Did you really see a dead body in there?’ she asked.
Sara broke eye contact. ‘I prefer not to think about it.’
Which was, Jude reflected, a rather strange answer. Particularly from someone who had just inadvertently admitted to having seen a gun on the store room’s windowsill.
The sitting room of Josie Achter’s flat looked out over the grey expanse of Fethering Beach, but its interior was functional rather than comfortable. Though everything was perfectly clean and tidy, the place looked somehow unloved. There were no family photographs on display and the pictures on the walls appeared to have no personal resonance. The lack of emotional investment in the place was emphasized by the cardboard boxes on the floor into which Josie had been packing books.
Jude’s expectation of being offered coffee was not realized and the vibes she was getting from the owner of Polly’s Cake Shop suggested that her presence there was something of an imposition.
After truncated pleasantries about Pilates, Jude cut straight to the chase. ‘You are aware, I hope, Josie, of a plan to run Polly’s as a Community Project?’