Dead in the Garden by Dahlia Donovan

Author:Dahlia Donovan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing

Chapter Thirteen

That is a dead bird on my pillow.

And a smug cat sitting beside it.

“What have you done?” Valor inched away from the feathered carcass while glaring at Staccato. “I thought the cat ate the canary. You’ve left it as a present. Thank you. Is it my birthday? It’s not, is it?”

As the dead bird wouldn’t handle itself, Valor decided to get up. He dressed quickly, wanting to remove the temptation before Staccato chose to play with it. The cat usually brought them the occasional gift of a twig or leaf, maybe a mouse.

Never a bird.

“This is not how I want to wake up in the morning.” Valor gingerly lifted the pillow to carry it and its passenger outside.

Dumping the entire pillow complete with befouled fowl in the rubbish bin outside, Valor froze when he turned back toward the cottage. Dead skylarks had been carefully placed along the posts of the fence—on every single one he could see from the front. He walked a few steps to look into the garden to find his guess had been correct.

Staccato didn’t do this. He couldn’t have. What is going on here?

Valor stared at them for almost two full minutes before grabbing his phone from his pocket and calling Detective Inspector Spurling. Am I being paranoid?

“Reggie.” Spurling interrupted his internal debate. “Hello?”

“It’s Valor.” He hesitated for a second trying to determine how to explain. “I’ve a dead bird problem.”

“Could you elaborate?”

“Dead skylarks on every post of the fence going around my garden.” Valor scrubbed his fingers tiredly across his eyes. “Not sure what you could even do about it, but it seemed something you’d want to know about.”

“Dead birds.”

“Lots of them. My cat brought one and left it on my pillow.”

Spurling coughed a few times, obviously trying to hide a laugh. “Are you sure the cat didn’t do the rest?”

“Look. I’ll take a video and text you.” Valor hung up with an angry huff. He made sure to capture the birds in all their horrific glory. The detective called him back after a minute. “Well?”

“Don’t touch them. We’ll be out in under an hour. Maybe we can get prints from the gate.” Spurling didn’t wait for a response and disconnected the call.

Rude.

In the time it took the police to arrive, Valor managed to shower, get properly dressed for the day, and fix breakfast for himself. He’d poured his third mug of coffee when the first vehicle pulled up behind his little hatchback. The forensic team immediately moved towards the fence while Detective Inspector Spurling headed to him.

“Valor.”

“Reggie.” Valor lifted his mug in greeting to the man. Spurling had insisted on first names during their meeting the previous day. “Want tea or coffee?”

“Why don’t we step inside to talk?” Spurling followed Valor inside the house. “Assuming we find fingerprints that don’t belong to either you or Bishan—”

“Or Mrs Harris,” he interjected.

“Who?”

“Slightly bonkers and overly nosy frog lady who lives next door. You’ve probably seen her peeking over the fence.” Valor pulled down several mugs and cups in case the other detectives wanted something to drink.

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