robkappow-blog

[robkappow-blog]

Death on a Honeymoon - Chapter 4 (A Death in Paradise fan-fiction)

Chapter Four

Naomi and Marlon arrived at the Azure and walked through the courtyard. The imposing bulk of the new hotel loomed over them a short distance away. It was easy to see why holiday makers might choose the glossy new hotel, over the slightly shabby establishment that had once been one of the Island’s finest spots.

The pair walked into the reception. Marlon could certainly see why this hotel used to bring in big numbers of tourists. Although it was very much ‘of a certain time’ - it had that quaint shabby-chic vibe that the Caribbean was traditional so famous for. A wall on the far side of the room caught his eye. He wandered over, seeing a young man shaking hands with a plethora of celebrities over the years.

If you followed the wall from left to right, you saw a sort of timeline of a man’s life. This man, Marlon assumed, was Francis. He knew from his notes that Francis was a local man who worked in a variety of fancy hotels and eventually, aged just 25, secured a huge amount of finance to buy the Hotel Azure, and turn it into the best hotel on the island.

The celebrity faces ranged from US presidents, to Arab Sheiks. In the middle row, a few columns in, there was a red-haired woman who Marlon couldn’t place, he’d hoped the picture might say who she was, but there was just a hand-written message: “To Francis, thanks for a wonderful holiday. We had a lorra-lorra laughs! x" - this meant nothing to Marlon, but he made a mental note to ask the Inspector who it might be. 

The wall continued to age Francis as Marlon walked along it, eventually finding a photograph of Francis with the victim. They were smiling from a boat, and looking at the camera. They’d clearly been fishing and it looked like they were both happy. It looked like a good friendship, admittedly from one snapshot, it was impossible to tell, but Marlon’s gut told him that these guys were very good friends. Or at least, they had been.

Naomi had already engaged the receptionist in conversation when Marlon approached. He caught the tail end of the conversation, the receptionist was just turning away saying “I’ll see if he’s free, I think he’s with the chef, preparing for the banquet night”

Naomi turned to Marlon and asked, “anything good over there?” Nodding her head towards the wall of pictures.

Marlon followed her gaze and said “Quite a few big celebrities have stayed here over the years. But what was interesting, was the photo of Francis and the victim. They looked like very good friends to me.” 

Naomi sighed, she took in the wall of images and said “Money is the root of all evil, or so they say” looking at the photograph of the two old friends. But it drives a wedge in even the best of friendships.

At that moment, an elderly man came out from the kitchen area and introduced himself. “Hello, my name is Francis, I understand you would like to speak to me about poor Victor” he said. He had a very authoritative voice, and Marlon could imagine him holding the attention of everyone he spoke to when needed.

They followed the old man through to a back office, where he offered them a small glass of rum both refused, but that didn’t stop him from pouring himself a large glass. Naomi subconsciously checked her watch, it wasn’t even 11am. 

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, sir” said Naomi. “We just have a few questions in regard to your friend, Victor Sparrow.” Her pronunciation of the word friend was strained, wether on purpose, or without meaning to, but Frances picked up on it.

“I think you’ve heard some things, young lady?” He said, with a little smile. “But let me tell you my side of things, so you have all the facts”

Naomi simply nodded. He really did have the sort of voice that commanded attention.

“I have known that old bastard for close to 60 years. We are old, old friends. I will miss him dearly. He was my confidant. You may ask,” he continued, correctly anticipating Marlon’s impending interruption, and correctly assuming what he was about to say “then why did he build that big old hotel overlooking mine and drive my business away?”

It was Marlon’s turn to nod. He remained silent, he knew that at this juncture, he wasn’t meant to interrupt.

“Well, let me tell you this” continued Frances “when you have been in business as long as I have, you will know that friendship plays second fiddle to a good business deal”

Marlon was quite surprised by this answer. “But he was driving you out of business. How can you be so pragmatic?”

The old man sighed, looked up to the ceiling and chuckled “You really haven’t had a chance to do your due diligence yet, have you, young man?” Did you see the name of the holding company. The company who owns both hotels?

Naomi checked her notes quickly, with an air of someone who didn’t like to be a step behind in anything. “Yes,” she said, sounding a little rattled, the company name is “Moineau Faucon”

“Correct” he said, with a grin “and, I assume you speak French?”

“Oui” she said immediately, “Oui, Je parle français…” but the last word tailed off.

He immediately knew she’d understood.

“What happened?” Asked Marlon? My French isn’t brilliant.

“You own the holding company with Vincent?” She asked, “how did I miss that?”

“Correct” said the older man, turning slightly to face Marlon, “You see, young man, Moineau is French for Sparrow… and in French, the word Faucon can be translated to Hawk”

Marlon came to the conclusion as soon as the last word was out of the man’s mouth, “Your surname is Hawkings…”

Smiling again, the man said “Correct, my surname is Hawkings. I’m affectionately nicknamed Hawk, and have been since I was a kid.

“So you stand to take over the hotel?” Asked Naomi “That still sounds like a motive to me”

“Young lady, when you have lived as long as me, you don’t want to run hotels. My name is on that paperwork and I get 50% of the profits regardless. Young Ronald will take over the running of the company now, and I still get my 50%” the old man said. 

“And as for this place?” He said, as though he was expecting a question about why he effectively destroyed his own hotel in the creation of a new one, “this place is due to be completely renovated next year, all through the new holding company and will be a companion hotel. It’s for overspill. They’re brothers, not competitors.”

Marlon looked around the room, and then asked his big question, “Mr Hawkings, you said that he’d ‘stabbed you in the back’ and ‘what goes around, comes around’ - care to explain that?”

The man chuckled “I shouldn’t laugh really, but it was a horrible choice of words considering what has happened. But he stabbed me in the back by taking a lady out for dinner, a lady I was very keen on and he knew about it!” He smiled, as if remembering some of their escapades as younger men.

Marlon pressed him, “that still sounds like you were holding a grudge”

The man chuckled again and said “No my lad, I was planning on waiting for him to get a lady friend, and I’d swoop in myself.” He said with an almighty laugh. “What goes around, comes around. We used to talk like this all the time, ask anybody. We were good friends. And I’ll miss him terribly”

Naomi was making some notes. She surveyed the man, as he sat there, drinking rum at 11am. He had a kind, but sorrowful look about him. But she still had to ask “Sir, can you account for your whereabouts last night, when Victor was killed?”

“Of course I can, and I have a room full of witnesses that saw me”, he started to get up as he was speaking, “we had a large banquet on that night, and I was mingling with the guests all night.” He finished up. 

“We will need to check that sir” said Marlon, but he knew that they were not looking at the face of their killer.

“Please do that, young man” Frances said, “my receptionist can provide you with any CCTV footage you need.”

“One last question before we go” asked Naomi “as you are partners, do you know the chef he recently fired? Marie?”

“Oh yes, Marie - of course, she wasn’t fired. She was transferred. She works here. In fact, she was the chef at the banquet. So if you are thinking she’s done something wrong, you can think again. She didn’t leave that kitchen last night until after midnight”

[robkappow-blog]

Death on a Honeymoon - Chapter 3 (A Death in Paradise fan-fiction)

At 9.30am the next morning, with Marlon and Naomi assembled and ready for action, Neville checked his watch. Humphrey was meant to be here at 9am, so where was he?

15 minutes later, and profuse apologies later, Humphrey was ready for action. “So sorry, the ferry was running late and I didn’t want to just leave Martha on her own.

“No problem, I totally understand” said Neville, walking over to Humphrey with a mug of tea, the exact colour of creosote that all Brits worth their salt enjoyed. “I didn’t add sugar” he added, “I wasn’t sure if you took it or not”

“No thanks, I’m sweet enough” came the reply from Humphrey, and both detectives chuckled away, whilst Marlon and Naomi looked thoroughly confused. Was this what passed as a joke between middle aged men in the UK?

They got down to business fairly quickly after tea and biscuits were circulated. Neville taking the lead, and bringing Humphrey up to speed.

“It would appear that we have three credible suspects,” he said, looking at the team, “we can probably assume this wasn’t a random murder. He wasn’t mugged. So we’re down to three people we can immediately see.”

Naomi stepped into run DI Goodman through the board. “This is Ronald Sparrow. He is Victor’s son. 58 and he isn’t married. He’s a bit of a playboy by all accounts, but a workaholic too, and the hotel business is his life. He’s a shareholder in Moineau Faucon, the company that his father owns.”

Humphrey nodded before asking “Any other family? I think Victor mentioned another son when I spoke with him”

Naomi continued, without missing a beat, as if this had been where she was going next anyway. “Yes, sir. He had another son, Nigel, who was older than Ronald. He was also married and had a son called…” she looked for her notes and Marlon interjected: “Nicholas; that was his name.” He offered up.

“Yes, that was it. Nicholas” she continued “Nigel and his wife Lucinda moved to the UK before Nicholas was born.” She continued, “Then, about 15 years ago, both Nigel and Lucinda were killed in a traffic accident just outside of London”

Okay, said Neville “so with regards to family, it would seem that Victor had Ronald here with him, and a grandson of around 40 who lives in the UK. Marlon, would you see if you could track Nicholas down. First off, to pass on condolences, but also to check his whereabouts. Just for belt and braces really.”

Marlon looked very confused, “what about my belt, sir?”

“No, it’s just a saying, Marlon. Just find Nicholas and we can let him know the sad news, but also just ensure he isn’t wandering around Saint Marie with a knife” replied Neville with a wry smile.

Naomi continued with her monologue. “Ronald didn’t seem to be in any financial trouble, but his father did keep a tight hold on the family money. There was an argument a few nights ago, but we don’t know exactly what about”

“I can help there” offered Humphrey, “it was on my first night back. We were grabbing a drink at the bar and as we walked back towards our room, we saw them arguing in the lobby”

“Did you catch the crux of it at all?” Asked Neville, intrigued.

“I only got a bit,” admitted Humphrey, “but it was definitely about money.” he continued.

“Okay, that certainly could give us a motive. Although he lived a good life. We should run some financials on him, see if he was in any debt. Naomi, can I leave that with you?

“Certainly can sir” she said with a mock salute. She then went on “and our other credible suspects are Marie Saunders and Francis Hawkings. Marie was the head chef at the hotel until about a week ago, when she was fired from her role. We don’t know why, but a huge argument broke out between her, Ronald and Victor. In the statements I got, she was heard shouting ‘You are going to regret this!’ At Victor as she was leaving.”

Neville looked to Humphrey, reading from his face a lack of belief that the chef was involved. “You aren’t sure, are you?”

Humphrey sighed and said “Well, it’s possible of course. But she’s had a while to calm down. If she was planning a murder after a week or so, surely it wouldn’t be stabbing someone in the back?”

“Point taken,” said Neville, “but we’ll need to talk to her. Marlon,” he said, turning to the young officer, “would you track this Marie down and we’ll go to see her”

“Sure thing, Chief” he said with a smile, “I’m on it”

“And Naomi, I think you said there were three suspects?” Asked DI Goodman

“Yes, sir. We have one more. A man named Francis Hawkings. He owns the Villa Azure, which is a smaller hotel.” Naomi replied.

“Okay, and what makes him a suspect, Naomi?” Asked Neville, chewing his pen

“Well, sir, Francis and Victor go way back. According to reports, Victor was meant to invest in the Azure. But then he got planning permission to build his own hotel, and cut Francis out completely. Not only that, the new hotel is so big, it blocks out a lot of direct sun to the Azure pool and Francis said that it was killing his business”, Naomi said with her usual degree of perfection. Her reports were always very thorough, Neville noted.

“Okay, well it is hurting his livelihood, but is that a motive for murder?” Asked Humphrey.

Marlon stood up and walked over to the board, saying as he went “But, the kicker is, that only last week, Francis was heard telling Victor at a regular poker game, that Victor ‘stabbed me in the back’ and ‘what goes around, comes around’ - and then we find Victor literally stabbed in the back. That cannot be a coincidence, sir.” Marlon finished

Neville pushed himself out of his leaning position on his desk and said “I agree, Marlon, that certainly sounds bad on the face of it” he began to pace a little, as he did when his sharp mind was working things out, “but people say things all the time. It doesn’t mean he did it. Let’s check everyone out, get alibis, take statements and then we can re-asses.”

Humphrey likewise pushed himself away from the post he’d been leaning on and added his thoughts to the mix “What would you like me to do, Neville? Shall I interview someone?”

Neville thought for a moment, as if contemplating the best division of labour for the team. He had to be mindful that DI Goodman didn’t actually have any jurisdiction here. He was only on holiday. His brain ticked over, before saying “I think what is best is for you and I to team up, Humphrey. You come with me and we’ll interview the son, Ronald.”

Neville started walking, with purpose, to the front door, the jeep keys in his hands.

“Marlon, you and Naomi can go and find out about Francis and Marie - see if you can get any alibis and we can rule one of them out early on. It will make our lives easier if we only have one suspect to focus our attention on.”

Naomi stood up, grabbing her notes and making for the door too. “Sure thing, sir, Marlon and I will go to the Azure now and try to speak with Francis. We’ll keep you informed”

“Thank you, we’ll reconvene here later on and work out next steps” said Neville, as he tossed the keys to Humphrey and said “You can drive if you want?”

[robkappow-blog]

Death on a Honeymoon - Chapter 2 (A Death in Paradise fan-fiction)

Neville was momentarily taken aback. He’d heard about DI Goodman, but he’d never met him. The two detectives’ paths had never crossed in the UK, being at almost opposite ends of the country. 

“Oh wow” said Neville “I’ve heard a lot about you from The Commissioner and also from Catherine. What brings you back to Saint Marie?”

Humphrey smiled “It feels nice to be back. This is the island that Martha and I fell in love, so we thought it would be nice to return to the scene of the crime” he said, with an awkward look at the victim, “sorry, poor choice of words” he added.

Neville looked around the room, taking in the victim and the scene in general. Finally, after a walk around, checking windows, doors and cupboards he said “Well I hope you are enjoying your stay, we’ll try not to keep you too long. I am sure you want to get back to Martha, and back to your honeymoon”

Humphrey had an odd look on his face, like he was puzzled, or deep in thought at least. He looked at Neville and said something that was quite unexpected. But then, if you knew Humphrey, you’d know that this wouldn’t be out of character for him. “I’d actually like to work the case, if that would be alright with you, DI Parker?” The words tumbled out of him, like he couldn’t help himself. Mysteries to solve and he just had to be in on the party.

“But you are on your honeymoon, sir” said DS Thomas “Won’t your wife mind you working?”

“Oh, she’s very used to me by now - she knows that I can’t help myself” said Humphrey “In fact, we were just about to hop over to one of the other islands tomorrow to see some friends, I know that Martha will be fine to go on her own, and I can stay here for a few days to help out” Marlon and Naomi gave each other a look that said “If my honeymoon was interrupted by murder, this is not how it would play out!”

“Okay, of course, yeah, any help we can get, we’ll take it” said Neville, extending a hand to Humphrey to shake it again “Welcome back to the team. What I thought we’d do, is get Marlon to take photos, Naomi” he said, spinning around to address her “if you can take statements from everyone please, that would be great.” He turned back to Humphrey and said “I think you and I should go to the station, and talk suspects. Do you have any idea who might want to kill Victor?”

Humphrey started to walk towards the door, Neville matching his speed, despite being almost a foot shorter. “Well, my instinct is always that murder is about money or sex. And considering Victor’s age and wealth, I’d say money. First thing’s first, we need to look at who is set to inherit and start to collate out pool of potential suspects.”

“Agreed” said Neville, “let’s get back to the station and I’ll pop the kettle on. I expect you could do with a brew?”

“Absolutely” came the enthusiastic reply from Humphrey 

“Great, I would say we’d go to Catherine’s so you can say hello, but… you may already know this? Her and The Commissioner have gone to a conference in Guadeloupe, they’re not back until Thursday.”

Humphrey looked like he already knew this, and Neville suspected that DI Goodman had looked up all the people he knew on the island. It must be a big change for him, thought Neville.

“Yes,” said Humphrey, “I went to Catherine’s on the first night here, but there was a chap I didn’t know who explained that to me. I didn’t know the Commissioner had gone too. I thought she was just on holiday.” He looked a little melancholy, but continued “When I was here, we had a great team. I am sure you have too. But Florence and Dwayne were such fun. I expect you knew Florence?” “Yes, she was marvellous” said Neville, a little starry eyed, “as a police officer of course. She was marvellous as a police officer” but Neville had a feeling the Humphrey knew what he meant really.

“Shall I meet you at the station then?” He said to Neville, who was marching towards the jeep at a rate of knots. “It’s just that I have to go and see my wife, explain things to her and then pack her up on her way and all that” he stated, matter of factly “I can join you in perhaps an hour?”

Neville inwardly berated himself “Oh course, sorry, I got immediately swept up in it all” he said “yes, of course, why don’t you go back to Martha, get things sorted and we’ll reconvene at the station tomorrow morning at 9am?”

“Sounds like a good idea, Neville” replied Humphrey, “I’ll bring some biscuits”

Neville grinned “Only if they’re rich tea!”

And with a small wave to each other, the two detectives parted ways for the evening. This could be rather fun, thought Neville. Humphrey on the other hand, had other thoughts occupying his mind.

[robkappow-blog]

Death on a Honeymoon - Chapter 1 (A Death in Paradise fan-fiction)

Chapter One

It had been a rather quiet night on St Marie. Not just quiet. But still. Serene. Relaxing. DI Neville Parker was sat on the beach, listening to the waves crash and enjoying a cold beer. It had been a good day. A rare day off. He managed to re-organise his underwear drawer. He sorted his bookcase into alphabetic order, but then realised that it made no sense, so re-sorted into genre, sub-categorised by author name.

He'd decided to call it a night and take in the night air. It was so peaceful. A million miles away from the constant buzz of Manchester. The hustle and bustle. Yes, he was busy here. The small island was no walk in the park. But it was a happy place. It really was paradise.

Neville grabbed his beer, walked back up to the cabin and hopped into the hammock. He wasn't intending to sleep here. Just have some time enjoying the sounds of nature. He saw Harry as he scurried past, no doubt on the prowl for a juicy cricket or some other creepy-crawly. Neville relaxed. He felt all of the air leave him as he exhaled. He was very peaceful.

He slipped into sleep easier than he'd expected. His dreams however, were not as peaceful as real life. In his dream, he was alone in the middle of the jungle. He had no phone, no torch and the sun was setting fast. It was the sort of dream, that no matter where you go, you tend to end up back where you started. Neville was beginning to panic now. Before long, one of his greatest fears were invading his dreams. Mosquitos. Not just one. But hundreds. Thousands perhaps. Buzz, buzz, buzz. He batted them away frantically. Buzz, buzz, buzz. He couldn't get away from them.

BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ. He woke with a start. He phone had been buzzing by his head. How long had he been asleep? Checking the phone, he decided not long at all. Marlon was calling. His heart still racing from the nightmare, Neville answered the call. "Marlon, what's up?" He asked.

"Are you okay sir? You sound a little odd..." Marlon's reply came. Neville composed himself quickly and said "Yeah, I'm fine - I dropped off for a moment there and was having a weird dream. Anyway, what's up?"

"I'm sorry to call you on your night off, sir. But there's been a murder at that fancy new hotel." Marlon said gravely. Neville knew the hotel in question. It had been opened up under a cloud, the planning permissions were a little dubious, and Neville felt that palms had been greased to ensure the build went ahead. There was a fortune to be made in the travel business, if you had the right location.

"Okay, Marlon. Pick me up on your way, thanks." Neville hung up without waiting for a reply and went to splash some water on his face.

20 minutes later and they were on the road to the hotel. Neville had wanted to ask Marlon who was dead, and try to get as much information from him as possible before they'd arrived. But the load clack-clack of the motorbike and side-car rendered a conversation impossible.

Once they were through the hotel doors, they went through to the games room, where, as Marlon had briefly explained, an elderly man was laying face down on a pool table, with a small knife in his back.

The only other people in the room was DS Thomas, and a man of about 40ish. He was white, rather tall, slim and looked a little too comfortable surrounded by murder. "What's the situation, Naomi?" Asked Neville, his sharp eyes darting from the victim, to the unknown man, and then around the room.

"Well, sir, here is what we know. The victim is 82 year old Victor Sparrow, and he owned this hotel. He was found by a couple of kids who came in to play on the pool table, and they screamed, alerting their parents who called us." Naomi said, closing her notebook.

Neville needed a little more. But time would tell him all he needed to know. Looking again to the man in the corner, who appeared to be fumbling with a button on his blazer, he asked Naomi "And who is this chap?"

Upon realising he'd been addressed, the man walked over with a small grin. "Oh yes, do let me introduce myself. I might be of some assistance" he said, with a very childlike smile.

"Oh yes, how so?" Replied Neville.

"Well, I'm here on my honeymoon" the man began, "and I'd got chatting to Victor a bit in the past couple of days" he continued

"Right," said Neville, "okay, that might be helpful mr...?"

"Oh sorry, didn't I say? DI Humphrey Goodman. I used to be you, I suppose!”