The Toast of the Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book III)

Rhys Holyoake Recalls

Since there was no way to open the container, Fiona contacted the security company. After a long series of questions confirming her identity, they finally informed her that the lock hadn't been opened since Fiona's last visit with Esther.

After discussing the matter with Andrew and promising him that Fiona would stop by the station later that day to give an official statement, the women said goodbye to the policeman and ordered another cuppa for each of them, while waiting for Rhys Holyoake to come and arrange the relocation of Esther.

"We'll lock her up somewhere for now, and then obviously, we'll need a new lock on the container and a new key. And I probably should keep the key in a safe," Fiona muttered, dangling her teaspoon in her chai.

"I'm sure the security company will be able to do it quickly," Viola said, and turned to Imogen. "But what are we going to do about Poppy Fitzroy?"

"I doubt it was Poppy who was planning to steal Esther," Imogen said.

"No, I don't think so either. But it was most likely she who cut into Fiona's mobiles," Viola pointed out. "We have no proof, but I feel like we have to do something. Mostly, for Poppy's sake, to be honest. So far she can only be charged with breaking and entering, and vandalism, but what if she manages to steal something next time?"

"Maybe you should write her a letter," Fiona drew out pensively and bit into her Danish pastry.

"A letter?" Imogen repeated and threw Viola a questioning look.

Fiona nodded. There was an adorable blotch of icing sugar on her cheek. "Yes, an anonymous letter. Tell her you know it's her and that she needs to stop."

The other two women exchanged glances, and then Viola picked up a napkin.

"Let me clean you up a bit," she murmured tenderly and wiped Fiona's face. "So, you propose we write her a–"

"An anonymous letter, yes," Fiona said and took another bite, once again smearing sugar, on her chin this time. "You can make it sound a bit threatening. As if you're the real burglars and you're angry that she's– What was that term Will used? Oh right. That she's 'gliding to your opp-block.'"

Imogen's jaw slacked.

"I cannot even imagine in what circumstances Will would be inclined to use this term," Viola said slowly.

"We were chatting about our school days," Fiona said with a giggle. "Oh I have more. Tell her she'll be wearing Baccy Tins, gulping diesel, and cheeking fags for her baron." Fiona's impression of the uneducated, low-class accent, reminiscent of Kelly in Misfits, was rather good.

"Oh wow," Imogen exhaled.

"I grew up in a pub, remember?" Fiona said with a laugh. "But maybe you should scale down the chavspeak in that letter. I doubt Poppy Fitzroy understands it. And don't lie to her that you have proof, and don't make empty threats. Don't elaborate on the 'or if's' altogether. Be concise. Let her fill in the blanks herself. That's much more intimidating."

"You are intimidating," Viola exclaimed. "Who are you and what have you done with Fiona Holyoake?"

Fiona snorted.

"But wouldn't it be a bit–" Imogen gingerly spoke up. "A bit... juvenile? Like in a Chesterton story."

"We're talking about a girl who thinks that Will Holyoake is an assassin, and who gutted a paper maché whale in search of blood diamonds." Viola's tone was sarcastic.

"It's a beluga," Fiona said distractedly, picking up the second pastry.

"Pardon?" Viola asked.