Alex made tea for everyone as Nancy silently sat in her husband's armchair. "I'm sorry, Mrs Fitzgerald," the sergeant began, taking a sip of the badly made beverage. The young groundskeeper had obviously never made tea before. Nancy rejected hers, too numb to drink.
"Where?" she asked, the first word she had managed to get out.
"Some workers found him down by the canal. The morgue reckons he died late Friday night."
"Friday..."
"What killed him?" Alex asked, entered the sitting room with more cups for the other officers.
The sergeant glared at him, refusing to answer the question until Nancy pushed him too. "A single gunshot wound to the chest-"
"So he was murdered?!" Alex exclaimed.
The sergeant glared again. "Yes, looks that way."
"Murdered..." Nancy trailed off, her words failing her. Her world crumbling around her.
"Mrs Fitzgerald, is there anything more you can tell us? When was the last time you saw him exactly?"
"Friday... I uh... I sing Friday's at a pub called The Scarlet Lady, Abraham always... he always starts his Friday night there. It's where we first met. He likes to hear me sing..." A single tear rolled down her cheek. "He arrives at 8 to get the best seat, I sing my first song at 9, he stays till half-past. Usually, he heads to The Golden Rose after that, the casino... he owns it."
The sergeant took note of every word she said. He asked her question after question long into the evening. Nancy's stomach was rumbling, she envied the dogs as Alex headed outside to feed them. "Mrs Fitzgerald, is there anyone you can think of that would do this?" was the sergeant's final question.
Nancy bit her lips, fear rising in her again. "He... he's a good man, he made his money through an honest living, building up the hotels and buying the casino. He bought racehorses, flash cars, this estate..." Her hands trembled as more tears streaked her cheeks. "But lately he... he uh - got in with the wrong sorts. I'm not sure of names, but I could find out."
"If anything comes to mind-"
"I'll call."
"Thank you, Mrs Fitzgerald."
When all the officers left and Alex returned home, only then did the silence begin to haunt Nancy. The eeriness left behind lingered throughout the night. She couldn't fall asleep in the large bed made for 2. She hugged her pillow, crying silent tears into the soft fabric, wishing that her husband was there beside her. An unopened bottle of rum sat on her bedside table courtesy of Ollie. She knew it had to be from him.
The next day she lay in bed until noon, feeling completely lifeless and soulless. The bottle of rum staring back at her. Downstairs she could hear Ruth Fisher her housekeeper bustling about, tending to the mess left behind by the police visit last night. Ruth brought breakfast up to her, a grim expression on her usual cheery face. "Eat," she commanded, "it'll help."
Nancy sat up, forcing herself to at least attempt something. "Has the news broken?" she asked.
"Front page news, there are reporters outside, I've told Alex to chase them."
"Release the dogs if you have to... Does Hanson know?"
"I imagine he's read the paper."
"I should go into town... speak with him."
"No one expects you to do anything, Nancy. You rest, you're in mourning. Business can wait."
On her departure Ruth lifted the bottle of rum, she tried to be discreet about it, but Nancy noticed. Not today, she told herself. When she finally rose from her bed, she dressed all in black before heading downstairs. Ruth had cleaned the entire house, hiding any evidence that muddy police boots had been there the night before. Nancy noticed an absence in today's paper, something that was always present by her husband's armchair by the fire. She's trying to spare my feelings.
Nancy wandered around the manor like a ghost, unsure of what to do with herself. Normally by now, her husband would be at work and she would either be shopping, dog walking or simply lounging about. But not today, today she was in mourning. Her mind was swarming with questions, wondering what had happened on Friday night. She had to know, she was desperate.
"Someone killed him Ruth, and I intend to find out who and why," she said over coffee late that afternoon.
"Leave that job to the police, Nancy. Don't you go getting yourself in trouble," she replied. The middle-aged woman was like a second mum to Nancy, she had been nothing but kind to her since first being employed as a nanny. As that part of the job was no longer required, she was now their housekeeper. The recent move to the manor meant they had to hire staff to help with the upkeep. Ruth and Alex were only two of the ten hired already.
Now Nancy would have to deal with all that by herself. She looked around the large sitting room, one of three, her stomach churning. "I should sell the house, I'll never be able to run it on my own..."
Ruth firmly grasped her hand. "Yes, you can, Nancy. You've got me to help you - and Alex." She only added the latter as he walked into the room, a massive bouquet of flowers in his arms.
"Another delivery, madam, from a Mr F Kennedy," he announced, placing the arrangement on the table.
"So many flowers," Ruth admired, "your husband was well loved."
"The flowers are for me, and my grief. It has nothing to do with people loving my husband," Nancy replied through gritted teeth. She had decided that when a bouquet from Sabini arrived. His had been the first. Flowers from the Shelby family came next, despite her never actually meeting them. Her husband had called on them once to discuss business, that much she did know. What had happened after that was a mystery.
Nancy smiled at Frank's selection of brightly coloured flowers. Alex handed her the card attached, the messy handwriting hard to read. Thinking of you always, take all the time you need. Love Frank x. "Are the reporters still outside?" she asked.
"Only a couple down by the gates, they're too afraid to come up the path because of the dogs."
"I hope you're not thinking about going out?" Ruth questioned, her eyebrows raised.
"I was just wondering," Nancy replied, "I might walk the dogs, clear my head..."
"I'll come with you-"
"I'd rather be on my own."
Ruth knew better than to challenge her, so said nothing more as Nancy grabbed her coat and headed outside towards the kennels. The usually hyperactive dogs were surprisingly quiet for once, they gave not a single bark as she came near. They know...
Lady emerged from the house after hearing the rattle of the dog's chains, accompanying them on their walk. The German Shepards perked up as they ran around the grounds, never venture too far from Nancy's side. Despite her husband being their owner, Nancy was their master, she was the one person (apart from Alex) who spent the most time with them.
On this, the first day of my unmarried widow life, I find myself feeling quite lost. All I have now are the dogs... and the casino, and the hotels, and this estate... But buildings cannot give me companionship, only the dogs. I have only the dogs...
She kicked a stone in her path, angry at the world. She hated this. She hated being alone. She hated her husband for leaving her. I warned him... I warned him about that life. But he didn't listen. He never listens...
Her stomach was churning with sadness and fear, her head was pounding as troubling thoughts entered her mind. Lady stayed by her side as the other two ran wild. "Max, Winston! Don't go too far!" Suddenly she wanted to be back home, to crawl into a ball and sleep until it was all over. What am I going to do now?
The thought of living alone was daunting. She turned on her heel to look back at the large estate, the grounds looked bigger than before, the building itself was like a castle. Nancy saw only a prison now. "I could always sell," she told Lady, "move into the city, I'd be closer to the businesses. How am I going to run them myself?" The vultures will be swarming already. Friends, relatives, enemies...
Vultures were already waiting for her when she returned home. For once she allowed the dogs in the house, enjoying their company and protection. They're all I have... "Gentlemen, what can I do for you?" she coldly asked, entering the study with her two German Shepards either side and Lady in her arms.
All four men in the room rose to their feet, expressing their sympathies in turn. Mr Hanson was there on behalf of the casino, her husband's lawyers Nathaniel Vincent and Peter White had sympathetic and yet somewhat gleeful expressions as they presented her with papers. Mr Fitzgerald always called them the python and the viper. Nathaniel was the python, big and fat, but not at all poisonous. He could be kind but he could also suffocate a man if he wanted to with his big meaty hands. Peter was the viper, tall and lean, extremely clever and full of poison. He terrified Nancy in more ways than some, mostly because she couldn't understand his motives and ambitions.
The fourth man in the room was Kevin McCloud, he ran the books for the hotels, overseeing parts of the businesses that even she didn't have access to. He was a balding, slim-faced, short-sighted, very intelligent man. His beady eyes watched her with caution, judging her every move. He trusted her as much as she trusted him. Not at all.
"We're here to advise," Peter began, pointing in turn to each pile of papers. Four piles for four businesses. "The Golden Rose, the Crown Hotel, the King's Palace, and the Rose Plaza will rightfully go to you with Abraham's death."
"We checked his will again today, he had made several amendments, but he left everything to you," Nathaniel added, a smile on his face that confused Nancy. She listened in silence, taking a seat at the table as he placed the contracts in front of her.
"London is talking," said Kevin, "there's a lot of interest in the casino."
"Expect offers within the next few days," replied Peter.
"Let me get this straight. My husband isn't even in the ground yet, I only just found out yesterday that he was dead, and you're all here talking to me about money?" Nancy's accusing eyes lingered on each man in the room, their expressions falling.
"Forgive their ignorance, some people only care about money." Mr Hanson had been the only one in the room not to speak and the only one to be genuinely saddened by Mr Fitzgerald's death. "I assure you they mean well, despite their bad timing."
"Might we arrange for another time, after the funeral?" Nathaniel asked.
Nancy nodded.
"We'll see ourselves out." Mr Hanson ushered them out of the room, squeezing her shoulder on his way past. Nancy stared blankly down at the papers they had left behind. Documents and deeds claiming her as the new owner once she sighed them. They've had these drawn up before today... They must have guessed he was dead long before his body was found.
Ruth entered the study, a large bouquet of white lilies in her arms. "I warned them not to come, but they were adamant about speaking with you," she said.
"They're businessmen. Trying to move on before the dust has even settled." The flowers suddenly caught her eye. "Who are they from?"
Ruth handed her the small envelope, Nancy recognised the handwriting instantly. "Always on my mind, A."
"A?" the housekeeper questioned.
Alfie... "I'm heading out," she announced.
"Out? But it's almost time for dinner. Nancy? Nancy!"
Ruth's calls went unanswered as Nancy hurried outside, to her surprise she was met by Ollie leaning against his car. He dipped his head when he saw her walking towards him. "Nancy. Terribly sorry to hear about your husband."
She made no reply as she got into the passenger seat, waiting until he had driven down the drive before opening her mouth. "I assumed you were waiting for me."
"He told me to. Said you would most likely drop by, especially with what's going on-"
"Going on? I'll tell you what's going on! My husband is dead, murdered in cold blood!"
"Sorry, Nancy. I didn't mean to-"
"Visiting the bakery is the last place I want to be right now..."
"Then why are you going?" he asked, a confused expression crossing his face.
Nancy was silent, contemplating an answer. She stared at Ollie as he concentrated on the road. "I've got some questions is all," she replied, twisting the ring on her finger.
"Oh yeah? Like what?" He glanced at her quickly, long enough to catch sight of her expression. "Jesus, Nancy. You don't think he done it? Do ya? He wouldn't!"
"I don't know what to think anymore... Someone killed my husband and I wanna know who."
"I hope you're not planning on storming in there accusing him of all sorts-"
"Of course not. I intend to be civil."
"Good."
All conversation between them faded away for the rest of the drive. As Ollie parked outside of the bakery he promised to wait for her to take her home again. She thanked him, lingering in the car for a moment, gathering her courage for a fight. He opened the doors for her, flashing a small smile. He's not so bad, she told herself.
Nancy prowled through the bakery like a panther, passing several workers who glanced up to whistle at her. She ignored them all, her mind focused. Ollie walked in front of her, asking that she waited outside while he went into the office first. She rolled her eyes, knowing that this introduction was unnecessary. He knew I was coming.
She looked back at all the workers, most of them were still mesmerised by her as she towered over them. Her eyebrow raised as a small smirk appeared on her red bitten lips. The smells of the bakery always had an effect on her, as though she was getting drunk on the fumes.
"Oi Nancy! Will we see you at the Scarlet Lady tonight?" a brave young man asked.
"Not tonight," she replied, blowing him a kiss. "Fridays only darling."
"That's a shame!" another said.
There may have been a smile plastered on her face, but inside she was rolling her eyes and reeling. She had always loved to sing, her mother would tell her how beautiful her voice was, so when she got the chance to sing for Frank in his pub she was ecstatic, a dream come true. But recently she had gone from singing songs that she loved, to performing for men who lusted after her and paid Frank a small fortune to watch her do it. She vowed to do a Friday night and a Friday night only. That was all that she could take.
The door to the office opened suddenly. Ollie emerged, holding the door open for her. She lingered there for a moment, trying to read the expression on his face. "You can go in now," was all he said. Her glistening eyes stared directly into his, forcing him to take a step aside with nerves. Nancy had a way of terrifying people without so much as uttering a word.
She pulled her furry coat firmly around her, taking a deep breath as she entered his office. He didn't even so much as look up from his paperwork when Ollie closed the door behind her. Silence broke out, with Nancy feeling even more irritated at being kept waiting.
"Nancy," he finally greeted, still refusing to look at her.
She didn't move as she watched him scribble away. "I just came to say thank you for the flowers. It's nice to know that my husband was so loved."
"Good."
Nancy felt herself fidgeting, angry at him for ignoring her so blatantly. She removed her coat, suddenly feeling flushed under the thick layers of fur, hanging it up on the coatrack to show that she was here and she was staying. "Widowed at 25... who'd have thought it? To survive the war only to be murdered in the streets."
"Unlucky."
"Luck had nothing to do with it." Her cold eyes stared him down, alas he continued to avoid her gaze. Instead, she walked towards him, resting her arms on the desk. She leaned forward, her loose hair brushing against his hand. He looked up only then, his eyes meeting hers.
"Then why do you think he was killed?" he asked.
"To get him out of the way."
He leaned back in his chair, removing his glasses to study her. "You sound convinced."
"I am." She straightened herself up, her eyes scanning the room. It had been a while since she was last in here, and yet it still looked the exact same. "I intend to find out who did it," she added, turning her icy gaze back to him.
He got up from his chair to walk around the desk and lean against it, closing the distance between them, his arms crossed over his chest. "It suits you."
"What does?" she questioned, her eyebrow arched.
"The grieving widow look."
She forced herself to look horrified, but internally she was laughing. Only he would say something like that at a time like this. "I didn't come here to talk about me," she began.
"No, you came to thank me for the flowers, which you have."
"That's not all I came for." She stopped breathing for a moment as she walked forwards, her glistening eyes holding contact with his. When they stood inches apart she allowed herself to breathe. The black silk of her dress ruffled against him, pressing her body closer. Still maintaining eye contact she leaned in closer to him, feeling his breath gently on her face. This was her one chance.
"Was it you?" she asked, her eyes studying his expression carefully. "Did you kill him?"
His face never once faltered, his eyes still glistening as they stared intently into hers. He reached up to grab her chin, forcing her closer to him still. Her heart was racing, she was waiting for him to say it. "No," he replied.
She pulled free from him, only for him to pull her right back. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, "I had no reason to." He planted a quick kiss on her forehead before releasing her. She stayed there between his legs, her heart still hammering in her chest. She could feel him press slightly against her, but neither of them acted upon it. This was not the time.
"Stop sending drink to the house," was all she managed to say.
"Noted. Anything else?"
"Don't come to the funeral."
"That it?"
She nodded.
"Then I'll see you Friday."
Friday... She walked away from him to retrieve her coat, a frown on her face. "If you hear anything about what happened to him-"
"I'll let you know."
"Thank you." She turned around to face him, managing a small smile. Once upon a time, there was plenty of things she wanted to say to him, but now today she felt there was nothing. Only heartache and pain. It would never have worked out between us, she told herself as she walked away.
Ollie was waiting for her outside by the car, he was full of questions but he never asked one. The drive home was silent, the only noise was the ringing in Nancy's ears and the rapid beating of her heart. And I still love him, I love him, I love him...