Murder At The Festival

CRIME SHORT STORY BY EIRIN THOMPSON

In this crime short story, Being involved in a crime case wasn’t Lisa or Marco’s idea of a fun time…

By the time anyone noticed that Gabriel Fox was dead, any decent forensic evidence had been comprehensively destroyed.

There had been hundreds, or perhaps even thousands of festival-goers who had ploughed unwittingly through the crime scene.

After heavy rain all day, it had been a warm night and lots of revellers had chosen to sleep outdoors, not even bothering with their tents.

It didn’t raise any suspicion then that one attendee lay in their sleeping bag with the attached hood over their head.

Someone was tired or drunk, or very likely both.

By the time a neighbouring tent full of young men and women had risen, and the sleeping bag still hadn’t stirred, there was a first hint of concern.

“Hey, mate,” Lisa had said, approaching and gently nudging the foot of the bag. “You OK in there?”

Something wasn’t right.

“Marco?” she called. “Can you come here?”

So it was Marco who stooped over the sleeping bag and turned the sleeper’s face towards him.

He wasn’t sleeping.

He’s dead!

Marco cried. “The guy’s a goner.”

Lisa felt a scream rise in her throat, but she held it down.

“How? Drugs?”

“I don’t think so,” Marco replied. “Look.”

He held up his fingers. They were smudged with blood.

“Where’s that come from?” she asked.

“His head, I think.”

“We have to call the police,” Lisa stated.

Marco stood up again.

“I’ll ask Cal to go to the helpdesk and see what they can do. There must be officers here already.

“You and I should stay with the body, since we’re the ones who found him.”

Marco stomped off to speak to Cal while Lisa remained with the sleeping bag.

Maybe the man had hit his head on a stone as he bedded down for the night, Lisa thought.

But she knew that was unlikely to kill someone.

It was hard to believe that at a good-natured summer folk festival like Suntime a man could have possibly been murdered.

“What time did you find the body?” a police officer asked Lisa and Marco.

“About ten-thirty?” Marco said. “I don’t wear a watch.”

“It was 10:38 exactly,” Lisa piped up. “I checked.”

The officer made a note.

“And was that when you first noticed that someone appeared to be sleeping there, or did you see them there last night?”

“There was no-one there last night,” Marco replied. “Not when I went to bed, anyway, and I was the last of our lot to turn in. Is this a murder inquiry?”

“It’s too early to say,” the officer replied. “For now we’re treating it as an unexplained sudden death.”

The police officer asked a few more questions of the group, but no-one had noticed anything.

“Nevertheless we will need full statements from all of you in due course,” the officer advised them.

“In the meantime,” he added, “your tent forms part of the crime scene, so I’ll have to ask you to leave the immediate area.

“A marquee has been set aside for you and other campers similarly affected.”

“Before you go, do you have any idea who the poor guy is?” Lisa asked.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

Within a couple of hours, it was all round the campsite that the dead man was Gabriel Fox.

“Gabriel Fox?” Lisa exclaimed. “Surely not!”

Gabriel Fox was the owner of Findcastle Farm, the venue for the annual Suntime festival, which he had founded and in which he was still deeply involved.

“Who would want to kill him?” Cal added. “He was the nation’s favourite cool uncle.”

“Well, someone didn’t think so,” Marco answered.

Just then, a different police officer approached them.

“Have I found Marco and Lisa?” he asked.

Lisa glanced at Marco.

“That’s us,” he confirmed.

“I have a message from Flavia Fox – Gabriel’s niece,” the officer explained. “She’s up at the house.

“She very much wants to meet the pair who found her uncle, reported his death and remained with him.

“She’s also offering to accommodate you at the house. In fact, she’s insisting.”

Lisa looked round the faces of her friends.

“But there are six of us,” she pointed out.

“I’m afraid the invitation is only for the two of you,” the officer stated.

“Don’t worry about us,” Cal told Lisa and Marco. “Go and meet Flavia. If I’d lost someone, I’d want to meet the folk who treated them kindly at the end.

“If nothing else, you’ll get to see inside Findcastle House.”

The rugged limestone house might have looked inviting any other day, but this morning Lisa feared crossing the threshold, anticipating a world of grief inside.

The tall, blonde-haired woman who came to greet them wore a long, stylish dress and had a white handkerchief tucked into the strap of her watch.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m Flavia Fox. Please come in. What can I get you?”

“We don’t want to put you to any trouble,” Lisa said, as Flavia showed them into a large drawing-room.

“It’s no trouble,” the woman said. “Anyway, I want to keep busy. If I sat down for long, I’m afraid this would all be too much.”

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Lisa offered. “It must have come as such a shock. We were shocked when we heard who the man was.”

Flavia snatched the hanky from her watch strap and dabbed her eyes.

“I’m going to have a glass of wine. I think I need it. Please join me, so I don’t feel like some terrible lush.”

“OK,” Marco agreed, glancing at Lisa, who gave a tiny nod. “Count us in.”

While Flavia fetched the drinks, Lisa looked round the room.

There were huge, comfortable sofas, an armchair with two cats sleeping, and an ornate fireplace and walls covered in framed fine art prints of all sizes.

Suddenly, a face appeared at the window.

It was a young man with a ruddy complexion, scowling.

“Someone’s not a happy chappy,” Marco murmured.

“Who do you think he is?” Lisa asked.

Flavia returned with three glasses on a tray, each filled to the brim.

“That, I’m afraid, is Roland,” she explained. “He works on the farm – for now. Uncle Gabriel gave him his cards on Friday.

“Gabriel hated doing it. He’d put it off for months. But Roland’s just so difficult.

“He can’t get along with any of the other staff, and he’s a sneak. Uncle Gabriel gave him until the end of the month, and Dad will honour that.”

“So your dad is head of the family business now?” Lisa enquired.

Flavia took a sip of wine.

“I hope so. Until the will is read we can’t be sure of anything, but I’d be very surprised if Gabriel left his share of the farm to anyone else.

“Dad was his kid brother and my uncle doted on him.”

Flavia, who had been shading her eyes from the sun, turned away from the window and lowered her hand.

Then another man appeared in the drawing-room doorway.

He had distinctive cheekbones and a dimpled chin.

“Giles Fox,” he said by way of introduction. “Younger brother of the deceased. I won’t come in.”

He pointed down at a pair of muddy boots.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” he went on, “for finding my brother and doing the necessary. You came here for fun and got a dead body instead. It must have been dreadful.

“You’re to stay with us here until this business with the police is finished.”

“Oh, but you must have so much to do,” Lisa protested. “We’d be in the way.”

“To tell you the truth,” Flavia began, “we’re sort of in limbo until the police release the body. It means a lot to have you here in the house. Please say you’ll stay.”

After such insistence, how could Lisa and Marco refuse?

The day passed with Flavia shuttling between the Rayburn, where she was cooking a stew, and the television news channel.

News of Gabriel Fox’s death dominated every bulletin.

“It sounds like they can’t officially state it, but journalists are treating this as murder,” Lisa said quietly to Marco when Flavia left the room.

Word came that the rest of the festival had been cancelled as a mark of respect.

That evening, Chief Inspector Hynes came to the house and officially informed the family.

Gabriel’s injuries were consistent with blunt force trauma to the back of the skull that could not be accidental.

Flavia wept and Giles wrung his hands.

A hardy-looking chap with a purple nose, introduced as James, the estate manager, joined them for a drink.

This was James Sackville, whose father had famously lost Findcastle Farm to Gabriel and Giles’s father in a card game.

“I don’t understand it,” James said, leaning his forearms on his thighs as he sat. “Was it a random attack?”

“We know no more than you,” Flavia replied. “The police aren’t telling us anything. When Gabriel was alive, he belonged to us.

“But now that he’s dead, it seems he belongs to them.”

A string of visitors came to the house and Flavia insisted they all be brought in and given refreshments.

She had a drink with all of them.

Eventually Lisa said she would have to go to bed.

“Of course. It’s been a long day for you.” Flavia nodded. “I wasn’t sure of your relationship to Marco, so I’ve had two rooms made up.”

“Thanks,” Lisa replied. “Marco and I are just friends.”

“Then I’ll show you to your room and fetch you a nightdress from the linen cupboard.”

The bedroom was quaint, with exposed beams and a little window made of nine small panes of glass.

“It’s beautiful,” Lisa gushed.

“It was my room when I was a little girl,” Flavia told her.

“You lived here?”

“Yes,” she replied. “After my mother left, Dad found it too lonely in our house with just the two of us. Uncle Gabriel welcomed us back to the farm.”

“And you’ve been here ever since?” Lisa asked.

“Oh, no,” Flavia said. “I married young and ran away to France with my husband. He turned out to be a bad lot, so I came back here. No-one judged me.

“I’m lucky to have such a wonderful family, which makes it so hard to understand why anyone would want to kill Uncle Gabriel. He was a genuinely lovely man.”

“I’m sorry,” Lisa said again.

“Don’t worry about me,” Flavia reassured her. “I’m as tough as old boots. Although . . .”

“What?” Lisa prompted.

“Well,” the older woman began, “I just wonder if, between us, we could solve the mystery where the police can’t.

“You must have heard or seen something,” she added. “If not you, one of your friends. You can’t all have slept through a murder.”

Lisa looked at Flavia’s distraught face.

“I’d help you if I could,” she said. “But I can’t.”

Flavia shook her head then placed a cool hand on Lisa’s arm.

“I’m over-tiring you. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Lisa woke up the following day to the unexpected sound of children’s laughter.

It sounded like they were playing on the landing outside her bedroom door.

She hopped up and opened the door a crack.

Two eager little heads looked up at her.

“Who are you?” the girl asked.

“I’m Lisa,” she replied, opening the door wider. “Who are you?”

“I’m Alice and this is my brother, Noah.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Alice and Noah. Do you live here?”

“Sometimes,” the little girl replied. “Our mummy is marrying Giles next month, and then we’re going to live here all the time.”

“Lucky you,” Lisa said. “It’s a lovely house.”

“Everyone is sad today,” Noah chipped in, “because Uncle Gabriel died. We can’t be noisy unless we come up here.”

“And is your mummy with you today?” Lisa asked.

“No,” Alice replied. “She’s at a meeting. Jenny, our nanny, brought us to see Giles.”

“I see.”

Suddenly, footsteps sounded on the stairs and a young woman with her hair in a ponytail appeared.

“I’m afraid I overslept,” Lisa explained. “Are you Jenny, the nanny?”

“That’s me,” Jenny confirmed. “You must be Lisa – Flavia explained.

“I’ll take this pair out of the way so you can have some peace to get to the bathroom.”

“That’s kind,” Lisa said. “But I wonder if we could go for a walk with the children? I’m in need of some fresh air and cheering up after yesterday’s events.”

“I have to warn you,” Jenny replied. “They’ll talk your ear off.”

“No problem.” Lisa smiled. “Just give me five minutes to get ready.”

An hour later, Lisa joined the rest of the household, including Marco, for brunch at the big refectory table in the kitchen.

She made sure to sit beside her old friend and, as they were finishing their food, she pressed her foot hard against his.

“Marco and I were just saying that we must pop down to the marquee and speak to our friends. I can’t get a phone signal, so we need to touch base.”

“No signal is an occupational hazard, I’m afraid,” Giles commented. “Of course you must go and check in with them. Feel free to return here for supper, or whenever you wish.”

“You have been so kind to us at such a dreadful time for your family,” Lisa replied.

Flavia dismissed the remark with a waft of her hand.

“Perhaps it’s actually making us feel a little better,” she said.

“Why were you in such a hurry to get out of there?” Marco muttered as Lisa and he set off down the rutted laneway towards the marquee.

“Because I think I know what happened, or at least why it happened,” Lisa muttered back.

“We need to speak to Chief Inspector Hynes,” she added. “There might be another life at risk.”

“So you haven’t remembered anything more about the night of the murder?” CI Hynes checked, sounding frustrated.

“No, but having spent twenty-four hours at the family home, I think I know why Gabriel Fox was killed,” Lisa explained.

The story had begun years earlier, when Giles Fox had met and fallen in love with a beautiful woman called Estella Grant.

But there was a problem.

Estella was married and had a child, Flavia.

The marriage was not a happy one, and when Giles pursued Estella, it was not so very difficult for her to decide upon a divorce.

Daniel Grant didn’t let go easily, however – at least, not until Giles Fox paid him a considerable sum of money.

At that point, he became excessively compliant, even allowing Giles to formally adopt Flavia.

They saw nothing of him after that.

For a time, Giles felt happy with his new wife and daughter.

But just as Estella had proven she could walk out on one marriage, she proved she could do it again – this time leaving Giles with his adopted daughter.

As Flavia had told Lisa, their life was unbearably lonely, which was why Gabriel had come to the rescue in opening up his home to them.

“I honestly don’t know if Flavia ever loved her adoptive father,” Lisa told Chief Inspector Hynes. “But I do know she is capable of deceit.

“All through yesterday she pretended she was throwing back glass after glass of wine. But I was watching, and she only took a sip or two from each glass.

“I think she was trying to get Marco and me drunk so she could find out if we knew anything about the night of the murder that we hadn’t revealed.”

The chief inspector exchanged a look with his sergeant.

“I also think,” Lisa continued, “that Gabriel Fox was not the intended murder victim.

“I think Flavia set out to kill Giles before he changed his will to reflect the new marriage he was about to make.

“I’ve seen photos of Gabriel and I’ve met Giles. They’re both extremely tall and have very similar facial features.

“It would be easy to mistake one for the other – especially in the dark.”

It was the next summer, and there was no Suntime festival, but Lisa was following the murder trial closely.

Flavia had initially denied any part in killing Gabriel, but then Roland, the disgruntled farm worker, had revealed himself to be her accomplice.

“Lies!” Flavia had reportedly shouted. “Does he have a single text message?”

No, but he had had the presence of mind to make a voice recording on his phone when Flavia came to explain her proposal.

And even though disgruntled, Roland had no taste for murder.

Flavia alone had tracked Gabriel down towards the festival campsite, believing him to be Giles.

In the dark, with so many campers sleeping the slumber of the happily intoxicated, she had taken her chance and struck Gabriel several times.

On the day of the guilty verdict, Chief Inspector Hynes rang Lisa to thank her for her part.

“You would have got there without me, I’m sure,” Lisa told him.

“Possibly,” he replied. “But who knows.

“And as you feared,” he added, “she might have struck again.”

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