“Indulge me, please.”

  “We had words at Jayne’s party. Obviously, it was an important night for me, and I was trying to be the host, not the chef. I relied on Martin and he let me down. To be fair, we all have rough nights and personal problems sometimes get in the way, but something was eating at him that night.”

  “You’ve no idea what?”

  “No, I didn’t ask.”

  “Martin smokes, right?”

  “Yeah, he does. Lots of people in the food business still smoke. A way of letting off tension. Or so they tell me.”

  “Did he go out onto the deck for this smoke?”

  Andy looked at me in surprise. “How do you know that?”

  “Just a guess. So he did?”

  “Rachel told me she saw him going out onto the deck and lighting up. That’s strictly not allowed.”

  “Even to take a break?”

  “Of course, they can take a break. But not out on the deck. That area’s for guests only. Staff have their own space.”

  “Did you tell the police this?”

  “Tell them what?”

  “That Martin was on the deck?”

  His face crinkled in thought. “I can’t say. I don’t know if I mentioned him in particular. A lot of people were in and out all night and I mentioned that. I didn’t think my cook’s dissatisfaction with his job was pertinent. Do you think—?”

  And that is why I have the reputation for solving cases the police cannot. Even when they’re asked not to, people make assumptions about what they should say to the police or not. They don’t want to waste anyone’s time. They don’t want to seem as though they’re making something out of nothing or inadvertently getting someone in trouble. They decide on the spur of the moment, often under stress, whether a fact is pertinent or not. So they don’t say something that might be important or, on the other hand, they flood the police with so much irrelevant information, it conceals the main point. Time passes, memories fade, details are forgotten, and the police have more than one case on their plate at any one time.

  Whereas no one ever worries about wasting my time, nor do they fear they’ll get an innocent person in trouble by telling me secrets. On more than one occasion, they’ve told me what they consider mere gossip of the sort they’d never share with the authorities. And that gossip turns out to be the key to the entire case.

  Jayne slipped her arm through Andy’s. “What are you two looking so serious about?”

  “Nothing,” I said.

  Jayne tugged at Andy’s arm. “If you don’t come right now, your dad’s threatening to leave.”

  “Go,” I said. “I’m only speculating here. Everything can wait.”

  “That means you too, Gemma. You need to be in the pictures.” Jayne let go of Andy’s arm and took mine. The wind stirred her fair hair and soft tendrils drifted across her face. She tucked them back with a laugh. “Come along, Gemma. Don’t dawdle.”

  Chapter Thirty

  More than once, the photographer had to order me to smile and to stop fidgeting.

  Finally, the photographs were taken and everyone headed to the warmth of their cars.

  I put my coat back on and lingered by the railing of the pier, watching lights flicker in the Blue Water Café as the first of the dinner guests arrived.

  “Okay, something’s up.” Ryan stood beside me. “Spill.”

  I spilled.

  “I can’t act on that,” he said. “Way too nebulous. Yes, I can haul this person down to the station, ask a few more direct questions. No guarantee it will lead to anything, and if not, we have nothing. Are you really wanting me to do that tonight?”

  “No. Maybe I’ll have a quick chat. If I’m a few minutes late arriving at the reception, no one will notice. You go ahead. I’ll grab a cab.”

  “I am not going ahead, Gemma. Nor am I letting you do this alone.” Ryan sighed. “If you don’t get that curiosity of yours satisfied, you’ll be restless all night. Let’s do it. As this is not exactly an official visit, I’ll stay in the background. Observe and listen only. If you do learn anything, promise me you’ll hand it all to Louise.”

  “Promise,” I said sweetly.

  Ryan rolled his eyes and we headed for the lights and laughter of the Blue Water Café.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  It was early, and the restaurant was largely empty as it likely would be for most of a Monday night in January. The hostess greeted us with a confused look. “Gemma? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Andy’s wedding?”

  “We’re on our way,” I said. “I want to talk to Martin about something first. Is he in?”

  “Yeah. He’s in the kitchen. Want me to call him?”

  “No, thanks. I know the way. Ryan?”

  “After you,” he said. Clearly, Ryan was not at all pleased with this development, but he trusted my instincts. He sorta trusted my instincts. Someday, he’s said to me on more than one occasion, I’ll go too far. What he’ll have to do then, he never says.

  The kitchen was in full dinner preparation frenzy. Cooks dodged each other, fat spat from frying pans, water bubbled on the red-hot elements of the gas stove. Martin Eagerton was chopping onions, knife moving so fast it was a blur. He looked up when we came in, and he did not smile. “You again? Andy’s not here.”

  “I know that. I’ve come to talk to you.”

  He went back to the onions. “Not a good time.”

  “I want to ask you about Tina Armstrong and what you said to her the night she died.”

  The knife stopped moving, but Martin did not put it down. “What business is that of yours?” He glanced behind me at Ryan. Ryan said nothing.

  “None, except that, as I’ve been told many times, I’m the curious sort. And I am curious about that. Humor me.”

  “You brought the cops with you to satisfy your curiosity?”

  “A coincidence. This is my date for Andy and Jayne’s wedding, and he insisted on tagging along.”

  “In that case, get lost. I’m busy.”

  All around us the staff were obviously listening, while pretending to continue going about the business of getting food on the table. Tables.

  “Okay. We’ll talk here, then. The night of Jayne’s party, you went out to the deck at least once, even though staff aren’t allowed there when the restaurant’s open. Tina was having a cigarette. You spoke to her. She died not long after that conversation. That’s if she didn’t die then and there.”

  “Is that true, Martin?” a waiter asked.

  Martin threw down the knife. “Okay, you win. Let’s get out of here. Mandy, get these onions caramelized. I’ll be right back. Anyone thinks they can slack off tonight, you’ll be looking for another job tomorrow.”

  He headed for the door. A wave of whispered conversation swept through the kitchen behind him.

  “Why don’t we go out onto the deck,” I said. “No one’s out there at the moment.”

  I didn’t wait for Martin to agree or not, but I led the way. He followed me, and Ryan brought up the rear. As darkness arrived the temperature dropped rapidly. The wooden boards of the deck were beginning to take on a thin layer of ice. I placed my wedding-suitable, high heel clad feet with care.

  Ryan and I were in our coats, but all Martin had on was his indoor clothes. I wouldn’t be long, though, One or two quick questions, and I’d decide where to go from there.

  I looked out over the calm ocean. The lights of the town twinkled in the distance. Below me, the dark, sleek shape of a seal bobbed in the water. I turned around. “You and Tina dated recently,” I said. “Nothing too serious, not on her part anyway, and it didn’t last long. Why didn’t you tell the police that?”

  Martin shrugged. He didn’t appear to be particularly concerned at my question. “They didn’t ask.”

  I didn’t know, not for sure, that Martin had been the ex-boyfriend Tina’s parents told the police about. But everything else I surmised flowed from that premise, and so I acted on it.

  “They didn’t ask me if I’d dated her either, but if I had I might have mentioned it,” I pointed out.

  “You were asked, along with all the other staff, if you’d seen anything out on the deck that night we needed to know,” Ryan said.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t see anything out on the deck you needed to know. I spoke to Tina, briefly, and then went back to work. She came in behind me. I didn’t want to get involved in whatever happened after that. We see a heck of a lot of things in this line of work.”

  “She came inside after you? Are you sure about that?” I said.

  “I’m sure. I shut the door in her face, not feeling much like being a gentleman. When I turned the corner to the kitchen, she was coming in.”

  “What time was this?”

  “I can’t say for sure. Nine-thirty maybe. Main courses had been served.”

  About half an hour before she died.

  “Did you ask her to give the ring back?” I asked.

  “How’d you—?” Martin snapped his mouth shut.

  “The ring she was wearing that night looked to be an heirloom of some sort. Not particularly valuable as jewels go, but it might have had some sentimental importance to someone. As I said, I’m the curious sort, and I recently saw that ring in a picture on a social media account. An elderly lady wore it to your brother’s wedding, which took place a few years ago. Your grandmother, I assume.”

  The ring had simply flashed past as I flipped through social media pictures, and I paid no particular attention to it at the time. I’d forgotten what I so recently told Jayne: the little things can be the most important. As they say, the devil can be found in the details. Only when Madison told me Martin resembled the actor Julien Best, did I start to wonder how Madison knew what Martin looked like. Yes, the kitchen staff took seats in the restaurant after the police had been called, but Madison specifically said she noticed the resemblance before Tina died. Guests didn’t normally mingle with the kitchen staff at a restaurant. If Martin had left the kitchen and gone onto the deck for a smoke—as Andy told me he did—he would have walked past the bar and Madison saw him then.

  Once I remembered that, down the rabbit hole of memory I went. The ring on Martin’s grandmother’s hand. What appeared to be the same ring on Tina’s. An antique ring that suited the elderly lady but was totally out of place on Tina.

  If Tina had Martin’s grandmother’s ring, he had to have given it to her. And the only reason he would give it to her would be if they dated at one time. The relationship hadn’t lasted. According to her parents, she ended it.

  He’d gone out on the deck, where he wasn’t supposed to go, while Tina was still alive.

  Martin dug in his breast pocket and pulled out a lighter and pack of cigarettes. He took one out and lit it. “Yeah,” he said at last. “I gave Tina my grandma’s ring. She refused to give it back when she dumped me. Frankly, I didn’t much care that she dumped me—she wasn’t worth the hassle—but I knew my mom would be out of her mind if she found out I’d given the ring away. Like you said, it wasn’t worth a lot, but it’s been in my grandma’s family for a long time and she intended for me to give it to my wife someday.”

  “Tina refused to return it.”

  “Yeah, she did. She said she liked it. She said I’d given it to her, so it was hers now.”

  I studied Martin carefully as he spoke. He was alert, not entirely relaxed, obviously aware of Ryan standing behind him, but not frightened or worried at the direction my questions were taking. He took a drag on his cigarette and half turned his head, to avoid blowing smoke directly into my face. Thoughtful of him.

  “What did you do then?” I asked, also aware of Ryan, tense, alert, ready to move.

  “I still don’t see how this is any of your business, but you’ll follow me into the kitchen and start making accusations in front of everyone if I don’t give you what you want. So let’s get this over with. I started arguing with her. I’ll admit I yelled at her. Told her she had no right to keep it. Told her what I thought of her. She laughed at me, made a crude joke, so I made a grab for her. She pulled away, and I could see I’d frightened her. I’m not proud of that, and I can honestly say I don’t know what would have happened next, but a bunch of guys at the bar started laughing at some joke and I was reminded of where we were. I turned around and walked away. I went back to work. I promise, she was alive when I last saw her.”

  I studied his face. I saw no fear there, only wariness. He knew he hadn’t killed her, so he wasn’t afraid of being arrested for Tina’s murder.

  “Why didn’t you tell us this?” Ryan asked.

  For the first time, Martin turned to face Ryan. “Because I know how you bunch operate. You would have blown it up out of all proportion. You would have stopped trying to find out who killed her and started harassing me. Like you’re doing now.”

  “Hardly harassing. Gemma is asking you to tell us what you did and saw that night.”

  “And now I have. Okay?” Martin’s voice was steady. He was annoyed at being found out, irritated at having, as he saw it, his time wasted.

  “What happened after you left Tina?” I asked.

  “I went back to work and didn’t think about her again. It was a busy night, right? You know that. You were here. I didn’t leave the kitchen until someone said a guest had gone into the water and the cops had been called. Even then, I didn’t know it was her. Not for a while longer.” His face fell. “I was sorry, sorry she died. She didn’t deserve that. I didn’t kill her, and I don’t know who did.”

  Ryan nodded. He was thinking along the same lines as me. It was possible Martin was a heck of a good actor and he was stringing us a story, but if that was the case, he’d break eventually.

  “I need you to come down to the station and tell Detective Estrada everything you’ve told us,” Ryan said. “You’re working now, so it can wait until morning. If you don’t …” He left the sentence hanging.

  “Thanks. I’ll do that. Promise.” All the tension flooded out of Martin’s body. The muscles in his neck relaxed, his shoulders sagged. He threw his cigarette over the railing and started to walk away.

  “One more thing,” I said.

  He turned back to me, slightly wary, not too concerned yet.

  “Did anyone observe this altercation between you and Tina?”

  His eyes narrowed. He took a quick glance at Ryan. He wiped his hands on his trousers. “No. I mean I didn’t see anyone else out here.”

  “You didn’t see anyone at the time, but later you learned someone had been watching. This person saw the whole thing. Am I right?”

  He shifted his feet. His eyes moved rapidly back and forth, subconsciously seeking escape.

  “Robbie Ellis saw you arguing with Tina. He saw you grab her. You didn’t kill her, but you didn’t tell the police about your argument with her. Robbie didn’t tell the police about it either. The only reason he wouldn’t have done so was if he intended to use the information for his own benefit.”

  The blood drained from Martin’s face. His eyes continued moving. He didn’t look at me. He snorted. “Ellis? That loser?”

  “That loser. The one with a prior record for blackmail. Detective Ashburton, you might want to ask Martin here where he was last Thursday around ten o’clock. Now that I’m facing him, I’m pretty sure he was the man I saw fleeing Robbie Ellis’s apartment. Based on that evidence, you should be able to get a warrant to search his home. Compare any shoes you find there with the muddy treads left on Robbie’s carpet.” No shoe treads had been left in the apartment, but I glanced down, as though I was checking out Martin’s shoe size.

  That was a mistake.

  He let out a roar and leapt toward me. I yelped and jumped backward. Ryan moved, but he was too fast, not taking care, and his foot skidded on a patch of ice. His legs shot out from under him and he fell. Hard. I yelled, but before I could move, my own feet left the deck.

  No one had lifted Tina Armstrong up and thrown her over the railing. But Martin was strong enough to have done so, and I’d foolishly stood too close to the edge.

  Next thing I knew, I was in the icy sea. I went under and freezing water rushed into my lungs. I was wrapped in a heavy wool coat, which began absorbing water immediately, pulling me further down. I tried to kick, to push myself up toward the light, but the weight dragged at me. Panic began to take control. If I let it, I’d be done for. Thankfully, the coat was not buttoned. I struggled to get my arms out. If anything, the water was colder than the last time I’d been in it, and I hadn’t had time to clear my lungs and take in a fresh gulp of precious air. Over my head, the waters splashed and churned. Pieces of wood dropped next to me. Legs appeared. Legs kicking, arms flailing. Bodies struggling.

  One arm out of the coat, then the second. It drifted down, and I kicked up. I was almost out of air and rapidly losing contact with my limbs. I scarcely knew which way was up, and I didn’t know if my legs and arms would obey my commands. With one enormous push of effort, my head cleared the surface. I sucked in air, tried to blink salty water out of my eyes, and looked around me. Ryan was a few feet away, struggling with Martin. “Help, help!” I yelled. “Woman overboard! Man in the water!”

  Faces appeared at the railing. An orange ring hit the water not far from me. I swam toward it, although by now I could hardly swim, just flail about in the icy ocean. I could vaguely hear voices calling encouragement to me.

  I grabbed the life preserver and clung to it. I kicked hard, trying to turn around, trying to locate Ryan. It was hard enough keeping myself above water, never mind fighting for my life as he was. I spotted him and Martin, still grappling with each other. Martin put his hand on the top of Ryan’s head and pushed. Ryan went under, but he managed to break free and swim a few strokes away. He came up not far from me, spitting and choking.

  Martin’s dark head was slowly heading for the shore. Tonight, the ocean was calm, with little in the way of undertow, but he was struggling as the cold and the shock took over.