Chapter 13
Heathcliff
Iwake to the sound of an angry mob.
There’s a distinct cadence to mobly anger, one I’ve become profoundly familiar with over my years as a hated villain. No matter what I do and how much I try to stay out of people’s way, my very existence seems to generate ire.
I crawl over a bunch of old clothing, shove open the window, and poke my head outside.
A group of villagers have gathered outside the shop. Some stomp through the overgrown flowerbeds and peer in the windows, while others shake their fists at the building.
“I always knew there was something off about that place!” a man mutters.
“A precious daughter of Argleton was killed there, and it’s still allowed to open?” a woman huffs. “Disgraceful.”
“Everyone who works there should be arrested!”
“No one who works here is a murderer,” I snarl down at them. I don’t care what they say about me, and Morrie probably has a skeleton or two in his closet (and I do refer to literal skeletons), but Quoth and Mina are innocent. I won’t stand for them to be drawn into angry mob justice.
“That’s for the police to decide!” a man yells back. I recognise him as a frequent customer.
“Right. The police. Not you! And if you think I’m getting those Spider-Man comics in for you, you’ve got another think coming.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man’s cheeks colour.
“Oh, look, that’s Mina. She’s the one who found the body.
” Mrs Ellis leans out her window across the street to wave at Mina, who has just walked around the corner wearing cuffed tartan pants and a red silk shirt, her wavy hair loose down her back.
“Good on her, I say. It’s time we had a little excitement around here. ”
Mina’s carrying an armload of coffee and scones and hasn’t yet noticed the crowd.
“I heard she used to be friends with the victim, but they had a falling out.” Mrs Ellis’ friend in the crowd stage-whispers back. Mina’s head snaps up.
“So she was the murderer, the little minx! I always knew she had it in her. Her mamma’s name ain’t Wilde for nothing.”
I toss a pair of Morrie’s shoes out the window at them, but that only makes them talk louder.
“I heard she lives on the council estate,” another old lady sniffs. “It just goes to show, doesn’t it? They’re breeding criminals out there.”
“I heard she just came here from New York City, which has the most stabbings per capita of any city in the world. That’s not a coincidence, you know.”
“I knew that Heathcliff was up to no good. Now here he is, hiring criminals to work in his shop. What would Mr Simson think? No wonder this village has gone to the dogs.”
Mina’s cheeks redden as she pushes through the crowd. I toss Morrie’s laptop out the window. The man yelps as it hits him. I stomp down the stairs just as Mina pounds on the door.
“Heathcliff, open up, or someone else is getting stabbed today.”
I yank the door, but it catches on the chain, giving me a three-inch gap through which to regard the outside world. Mina stands outside. Her cheeks flush pink.
“That better be the strongest fucking coffee in the world,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes. In the early morning light, Mina is stunning. Or maybe that’s because she has coffee.
No, she’s definitely stunning.
“Good morning to you, too,” Mina growls back. “Hurry up and get this chain off. I’m stuck out here with the village gossips.”
“Heathcliff, have you seen my laptop?” Morrie flounces down the stairs, his hair wet from the shower.
“Nope. No idea where it could be.” I push off the chain and fling open the door. Mina tumbles through, straight into Morrie’s arms (curse his long legs for getting him here so quickly).
Mrs Ellis cheers. I can hear her regaling her friends with an anecdote about the time she had sex in the bookshop. Several people in the crowd surge towards the door, eager to rubberneck the crime scene.
“Shut the door!” Mina yells.
“We’ve closed.” I slam the door. I turn around to face them, and my mood only gets worse. Mina rests her head against Morrie’s crisp white shirt, breathing hard. Quoth crouches in the shadows, his flame-ringed eyes like two pricks of firelight in the gloom.
The door handle jiggles menacingly.
Morrie shuffles Mina aside as I shove a heavy bookshelf in front of the door, leaning it against the wood. “That should hold them off.”
I pluck my coffee from the tray in Mina’s hand and take a long, appreciative sip. Maybe this murder isn’t actually so bad. This is a dream come true.
Alone in the bookshop with Mina, and absolutely no way for any customers to get in.
Too bad Morrie and Quoth are also here.
Mina squints at my barricade. “Um, guys, much as I appreciate the show of solidarity, how are you going to open the shop with a giant bookshelf in the way?”
“We’re not opening today,” I growl.
“Yes, we are. You can’t let what happened put a taint over the shop.
People are going to gossip no matter what.
If nothing else, it makes us look guilty.
I don’t want to see this place suffer just because of what happened.
Nevermore is special, and all you need to do is get more people in the door and I know they’ll see it for themselves. ”
“Those people just want to gape at a murder scene and get a look at the Argleton Ripper in action,” Morrie says, his expression serene as he tightens his grip on Mina. I glower at him, but unfortunately, he’s so used to my glower that it can’t bring him to his knees the way it does others.
Mina slumps in his arms. “Don’t ever call me that again.
I say let them gape. They might stay and buy things.
Trust me, I’m no stranger to people talking shit about me behind my back.
I can handle the village gossip mill. Besides, I need something to do, or I’m just going to sit at home obsessing and staring at my mother’s wobbling stomach. ”
“Huh?” I finish my coffee and crumple the cup in my fist. I notice there’s a second black coffee in the tray. As though Mina has noticed how much I need in the mornings to make me mildly human.
“Never mind. Long story filled with visuals you cannot ever unsee, kind of like everything Mrs Ellis says.”
“You holding up okay, gorgeous?” Morrie leads Mina – and the sweet, sweet black nectar of the gods – into the main room. I trail after him as he settles Mina into his favourite velvet chair. “You don’t look like you got much sleep.”
“Thanks for the compliment.” She sets the tray of coffees on the desk and wraps her hands around her cup, bringing it to her lips with an appreciative little sigh.
“Honestly, I’m pretty shaken up. Ashley was my best friend for more than eight years, and now she’s dead.
I don’t know who would want to hurt her, apart from myself. ”
“Neither do we. But we’re going to find out.” Morrie leans against the desk. Quoth peers in from behind the door, his lips pursed in a worried frown. He’s hanging back because he’s nervous and he doesn’t want to shift in front of Mina.
“You said you’d tell me why you know Quoth didn’t do it.” Mina sips her coffee. She holds out my second cup to me. “I’d like to know now.”
“Quoth suffers from what we medical folk call ‘vasovagal syncope.’ He faints at the sight of blood,” Morrie says. “That’s why you hardly see him in the shop. Too much risk of a paper cut.”
“Be serious.”
“I am. It’s a real condition. I can find you a medical dictionary if you want to look it up.”
“I’ll take your word for it. But if it’s as simple as that, why couldn’t I have told the police?”
“Because I’m off the grid,” Quoth says from the doorway, his shoulders sagging.
He doesn’t want to lie to Mina. “I’m hiding from people who want to hurt me.
If the police look into my background, they’ll notice that I don’t have a birth certificate or any other official documentation, and I’m screwed. ”
Most of that is true. Quoth doesn’t have a birth certificate. Morrie offered to forge one for him, but Quoth thinks it’s better to stay off-grid. I bet he’s regretting that now.
Mina’s eyes sparkle. “I knew it. I knew Quoth couldn’t be your real name.”
Quoth smiles back at her, but there’s no mirth in his eyes. “Thank you for what you did. Morrie shouldn’t have asked you to lie for me, but it may have saved my life.”
“You can pay me back by not being a murderer,” Mina says. “And also by kicking Morrie’s arse.”
“My pleasure.” Quoth bows.
“He’d never dare, not when I was helping him out. Even if the police knew about Quoth, they’d still be looking at you, Mina. And not because you’re hot as sin,” Morrie drawls.
I groan. Can he give it a rest? She’s already chosen him. I know it. Quoth knows it. Morrie definitely knows it. If he keeps rubbing it in my face, his face is going through a window.
“I get it. I’m a suspect because Ashley and I fell out and she showed up in my place of employment.” Mina runs her fingers through her hair. “But why was she here?”
“That’s what we’ve got to figure out if we’re going to solve this murder.” Morrie turns a legal pad towards him and starts doodling. He’d better not be making a murder board. He’s been at the centre of too many of them. “Does Ashley have any enemies?”
“The cops asked me this. I don’t think so, except me.
” Mina slumps in the chair. “I mean, she could be selfish and self-obsessed, so it’s likely she crossed a few people in the industry, but she’s still too small fry for anyone to bother with.
She was trying to become a social media influencer, so maybe she pissed off some Instagram celebrity, and this is all about an internet feud. ”
“A social Insta-what?” Sometimes Mina talks like she’s from another planet.
“A social influencer. It’s when companies pay you money to take selfies of yourself with their products and post them on the internet. It’s like being a corporate whore, except the pay is worse.”
I glare at Morrie in horror. “And you claim I’m missing out on life by not using the internet.”