The Game is Somewhat Afoot

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Author's Note:

I doodled the Mayor's and Imogen's last dance before it's time for them to leave for the airport to go on their honeymoon :) (I found the base for the drawing on Pinterest so I unfortunately can't give credit for it) I know it's all in the future, but I just love them so much <3 You can see more of my doodles on my Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kkolmakov/

Cheers! xx

Katya (kkolmakov)

***

"Do you think we should make a mind map, or perhaps a board like the police do?" Viola asked, steepling her fingers in an uncanny semblance to a certain telly consulting detective.

Imogen sipped the excellent Turkish coffee the doctor had made for them and dangled her feet. They were sitting in Viola's kitchen at a tall counter island. Everything in the cottage was rather oversized. Imogen seemed to recall the cottage belonged to Dr. Holyoake's husband and had been renovated years ago, before Imogen's time in the Town Hall.

"Do you mean like a white board, or one of those cork ones that you can put drawing pins in, and stretch bright strings from the suspect's picture to the motives and the photos of evidence?" Imogen offered.

"I think I prefer a white board," the doctor said and picked up her mobile. "More professional, don't you think?" She quickly typed something. "I'll purchase one right away. For now, we should write everything down, so we don't forget some little detail." She pushed a large notebook and an elegant fountain pen towards Imogen. "I apologise for making you do it, but I'm a medical professional. You can imagine my handwriting!" she said with a lilting laugh. "Still, I do want to be perfectly clear: you are the detective, I'm your sidekick."

Imogen smiled shyly. "And a doctor," she murmured. "Which makes you an excellent Watson."

Imogen wrote Burglaries: Info and Details on top of the first page and decisively underlined the words.

"Alright, so what do we know?" she said and peered at the page.

"We have the list of the burgled houses," Viola started naming their assets. "We also have the email from Mr. Guthrie, with everything that has been stolen from his cottage, so we can make assumptions about what sort of valuables the burglars are after."

"Well, they don't shy away from precious gemstones," Imogen said, diligently scribbling in the notebook. "Which makes me think they have the means to evaluate and to sell the stones."

"Which they would need a gemologist for," Viola pointed out. "During my little excursion to the jewellery shops in Abernathy, I asked around, pretending I have some sort of an heirloom that I'd like to sell without my nonexistent siblings knowing." The doctor dramatically widened her grass green, cat eyes, and Imogen giggled. "Most of the shop owners were obviously reluctant," the doctor continued, "but one person told me that there was a gemologist who could help me. His name was Ted Kingsley. I tried to obtain his contact information, but it turned out he's dead."

Imogen's hand froze above the paper.

"Ted Kingsley?" she repeated - and it took her only a second to scour through her memory to remember where she'd heard the name. "Oh my goodness, this can't be!"

"What is it?" the doctor asked greedily.

"What shop was Ted Kingsley a gemologist at?"

"The Abernathy Jewellery Gallery," Viola answered. "I specifically remember that it surprised me because it's the largest shop in two counties, and it seemed unlikely that they would be involved in any sort of dealings of questionable legality."

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