Chapter 15
"So what do we know about the widow?" Hiccup asked as Astrid drove them out of the town and sped along the freeway and out into the countryside. Weaving between the traffic and using the speed limit as the slowest she would consider travelling, Astrid shifted gear down and they riskily overtook a bus of elderly churchgoers, narrowly missing a truck filled with cows. The bus swerved and Hiccup definitely thought he could hear screams as they roared away from the still swerving bus.
"Much younger than her husband, former Glamour Model and quickly on the scene after the murder," Astrid reported. "She enjoyed the good things in life, being famous and rich and in the glossy magazines but she didn't spend much time with her husband. She's currently spending some time in the 'Western Oaks Country Club' so we're heading there to speak to her."
"We're defending the man who is accused of murdering her husband," Hiccup pointed out. "Is she going to want to speak to us?"
"All we are doing is checking her story," Astrid said. "Though I will start the conversation, you will need to take it over because everything I have found about her suggests that she has an eye for men. Especially those younger than herself..." Hiccup blushed slightly.
"Um...are we talking about me?" he asked and she chuckled.
"You remember I mentioned that I had to work harder because no one saw beyond my looks?" Astrid asked him and he nodded slowly. "Now, I am going to employ your looks to see if we can get the newly widowed Mrs Bludvist talking to us." Hiccup glanced over at her, seeing her eyes twinkle with amusement.
"You do know that I am not very good at talking to the opposite sex?" he checked and she shrugged.
"Doing fine with me," she reasoned calmly. He waved his hands wildly.
"But you're a lawyer and you like Star Wars!" he protested. "I mean...if this widow is so Glamorous, I may not be able to even say a word..."
"Aha. So being a lawyer stops me from being a woman?" she teased him.
"Yes. No! NO! Definitely not...it's just...I know that you won't pounce on me or make a pass or..."
"I could if you want me to," Astrid said and he turned beet red. She chuckled again. "You may want to cool down before we see her. She may not want to chat with an auburn tomato." Hiccup dropped his head back and sighed.
"Just my luck," he sighed. "A woman who doesn't like fruit."
It was only another ten minutes before they reached the manicured shrubs and stunning topiary that marked the elegant entrance of 'Western Oaks'. Driving slightly more steadily up the white gravel drive that swept up to the wide-open double glass doors of the country club. They passed a set of trees shaped into flamingos and Hiccup thought about the reason why. He'd seen other shapes but those darn flamingos just stood out. As soon as they pulled up, a valet emerged, offering to repark Astrid's car but she glared at him until he withdrew very hastily. Finally, she walked side by side with Hiccup into the pale marble lobby and reception of the Country Club and asked where Clarissa Bludvist was. Everything just screamed money here and Hiccup gulped, afraid that even breathing might get him a hefty bill.
"She's in the spa but I'm not sure she wants to see any guests while she's having a Natrinatural treatment..." the receptionist began but Astrid had already spotted the sign.
"Don't worry-we'll go and check!" she said cheerfully but one of the receptionists got in her way.
"I'm really afraid I can't permit that!" she said firmly, nodding to the second receptionist at the counter. "Please take a seat there while we check with Mrs Bludvist. This is an extremely exclusive Club with over a hundred and fifty years of heritage and prestige and we cannot permit anyone to walk in and embarrass our members." Astrid pursed her lips but Hiccup nodded, blushing because the woman had pointedly looked at him when she spat the word 'anyone'.
"That's fine," he mumbled, retreating though he grabbed Astrid's hand and pulled her towards an old but clearly extremely expensive leather sofa. "We wouldn't want to walk in on her while she was having a massage or a personal wax or any other spa things..." Astrid restrained herself from glaring at the receptionist as she sat stiffly at Hiccup's side and nudged him.
"What are you doing?" she hissed. "They're going to tell her that two poor people in suits have arrived and she's not going to talk to us. I know the Prosecution have already spoken to us so she'll know who we work for." He nodded and fished his phone out of his pocket, then thumbed his way down his documents.
"I'm sure of it," he said, nodding and pulling up a PDF. "But we aren't poor people and though they've warned her, we can still go and see her." She frowned and mouthed 'How' but he was already rising to his feet.
"Excuse me?" he said. The receptionist looked unimpressed. "I believe this establishment has a reciprocal arrangement with members of Berk Historical Viking Society and Country Club." The woman's eyes widened and she checked her computer, though it was clear that she knew what it would say.
"Uh...yes?" she asked. He flashed the image on his phone.
"I"m a member," he revealed. Astrid gaped. "My Dad's idea of making sure I remain in touch with my Viking heritage. Actually, a bunch of sexagenarians playing golf and talking about how things were better in the gold ole Viking times isn't really the definition of fun but they have a great pool for when it's frozen outside and you just want to relax." He blushed. "Actually I have only ever been with Mom and Dad." And then he smiled at the receptionist. "I'd like to look around your facilities-starting with the spa."
"But she..." The receptionist looked at Astrid.
"She's my 'plus one'," he said firmly as the first receptionist came back slightly out of breath.
"Oh I'm sorry," she reported, breathing hard. "Mrs Bludvist has in fact left some time ago. I must have forgotten." Hiccup chewed his lips and nodded.
"Maybe we can look round the grounds first?" he said. "I may be back to look at the spa in a little while." And then he headed for the door. Astrid followed.
"She's gone?" she asked as they emerged onto the drive.
"Going, I think," Hiccup said, blinking against the sunlight. "The receptionists would know exactly who was here-it's their job to know exactly who is here, what they like and what they can do to make them feel like the most important person here. So for one to say 'she forgot' is a flat out lie! Clarissa must have told her to throw us off the scent...while she runs for it."
"Question being...why?" Astrid murmured as they walked briskly around the side of the Club and past the Putting Green, a line of gleaming golf carts parked to the millimeter. Hiccup's green eyes scanned the building and then he began to chuckle as they rounded another corner-to see an elegant woman hanging out of the window with mud still on her face and a designer dress grasped in one hand.
"You want a hand?" Astrid asked, looking up at her with a smile as she started and found herself stuck. Scowling, she grabbed the window frame and tried to haul herself out.
"No...I'm fine...just checking the view..." she said briskly. "It looks like the wisteria are starting to get overgrown...I must speak to the head groundsman..."
"Hmm...while you're checking the landscaping, could we ask you a few questions?" Hiccup asked. "We work for Grimborn and..."
"I know," she snapped irritably.
"Then why didn't you just say that you didn't want to speak to us?" Astrid asked. "Why did you run?"
"I'm not running!" the widow insisted.
"Well, not now you aren't because you look kinda stuck," Hiccup admitted as he tried to hide his smile at the scene. "We know that Mr Trader didn't kill your husband..."
"Yes he did!" she spat out interrupting Hiccup.
"Why do you say that?" Astrid asked calmly, observing the woman twisting and writhing.
"Well, I just went to see my hubby since he decided to work late again and probably forgot to eat. The man rarely ate then but when I got there he was slumped over his desk. Johann was there and he pushed me aside and then ran out of the office."
"But you didn't see Mr. Trader commit the actual deed?" Astrid asked now, keeping her voice low and sympathetic.
"Who else could it be?!" Clarissa said with great venom. "That man had the audacity to try and buy out the company shares. The same company both he and my darling had spent many years building up. He had visited earlier in the day and they had disagreed over the sale of shares. And to think that after the wake he'd confront me like that."
"Mr. Trader talked to you after the wake?" Astrid asked as she fished her pad out of her bag and wrote something down.
"The day after. He came to our.....my... house," Clarissa stated, kicking furiously and budging an inch. "He was talking some crap about wanting to buy the shares I'd inherited. Saying my husband was going to sell them to him."
"Do you have any proof that your husband was going to sell?"
"No" Clarissa stated fiercely, her beautifully coiffed hair now sagging over her face. "When I wouldn't budge he dared to come onto me!" Hiccup nearly choked at this statement and before Astrid could ask him if he was alright he quickly asked the widow:
"Excuse me, could you repeat that?'
"Johann dared to put his hand on my knee and proposition me!" Clarissa alleged, becoming agitated and pushing furiously against the frame. "Don't look at me like that boy! I have a witness!"
"And.... who is your witness?" Astrid asked as she tried to calm the widow. Hiccup was staring at her in shock.
"The poolboy Enrique. He was there when Johann visited. He heard the commotion and came to check on me." Clarissa stated. "He'll testify."
"That will be all," Astrid said soothingly, elbowing Hiccup. "We are sorry to trouble you, Mrs Bludvist. You have our condolences..."
"Johann Trader is an evil piece of work," she spat. "He even tried to blackmail me..." Not saying a word, Astrid glanced back up.
"Hmm?" she managed, seeing the woman slide forward a few inches.
"Just because he thought he had some leverage doesn't mean I'll sell him my best assets!" she spat.
"What leverage could he possibly have?" Hiccup murmured. Clarissa glared at him.
"Right-this is harassment!" she spat. "You'll be hearing from my lawyers!" Hiccup looked startled as she suddenly came free and plunged face-first into the camellia bushes. There was a blood curdling scream and the woman looked up, her face covered in soil. "MY MANICURE!" she wailed. "I only just got that done. Every week at Gianni's..."
"And we're out of here," Astrid said, grabbing Hiccup and steering him to the car. "Okay, what did we find out?"
"She was too small for the window?" Hiccup suggested as Astrid floored the gas pedal.
"She really didn't want to talk to us," Astrid said. "Enrique isn't just the pool boy."
"He's the leverage?" Hiccup asked and Astrid nodded.
"I'm not sure Drago Bludvist would want to risk a substantial amount of his fortune on divorcing her over a fling with the pool boy," she said.
"Didn't he have a prenuptial agreement?" Hiccup asked but Astrid shook her head as they arrived at the main highway. They pulled out with a screech of tyres and Hiccup yelping and hanging onto the door.
"Nope," Astrid said firmly. "He fell in love with her and thought with his lower half not his head. Even ignored his lawyer's advice-Viggo was very pissed at that."
"But boy, you took a dislike to her straight away, didn't you?" she commented. He nodded.
"She asked the reception staff to lie to us rather than just say she didn't want to talk," he reminded her. "That's pretty shabby. And pretty dishonest. So maybe that's the kind of person who would think that maybe it's cheaper to kill a husband then get divorced and risk the luxury lifestyle?"
"While not risking your manicure," Astrid commented. "Well, at least we know one thing: she wasn't a witness to the murder. And that means we have a shot at reasonable doubt."