2 A Different Shade Of Death

A Storage Ghost
Murder Mystery

 A Different
Shade of Death

Chapter 1

“Are
you sure I can’t come with you?” Grace asked.

Frankie
pulled his jacket on. “I told you, the shop is too busy. Anyway, I thought you
didn’t like going to the storage locker auctions. You always complain that it’s
boring and that the other bidders smell.”

Grace
looked down at the shop counter. She wished she could tell him the truth. But
how could she tell him that she wanted to go to the auction to look for ghosts?
And not just any old ghosts but ones that had been murdered. Frankie was her
older brother and the only family that she had left but she could never tell
him that.

He
gave her a push. She looked up to see him grinning. “Do you fancy someone at
the auction? One of the other bidders? Go on, Grace, you can tell me.”

Grace
folded her arms. “I certainly don’t fancy anyone there! Some of them smell like
they’ve been living inside a locker for months.”

Frankie
snorted. “You’re right about the smell, it sometimes offends me and I’m not
fussy. Do you really want to go? We can close the shop.”

Grace
looked around their shop. They used to sell antiques but now there was a bit of
everything in the shop. It depended on what they bought at the storage locker
auctions as to what ended up on the shelves. There were customers milling
around the shop at the moment. Grace hadn’t seen that for a while. People
seemed to like the things in the shop, one customer had said it was like
Aladdin’s cave, you just never knew what you were going to find.

Frankie
had worked so hard at building the business up since Mum and Dad died, she
could hardly turn customers away. And anyway, if a ghost needed her help they
could wait, it wasn’t like they were going anywhere.

Grace
moved closer to Frankie and straightened his jacket collar. “You go, I’ll be
fine here.” She sniffed. “You smell nice, new aftershave? Is there someone
you’re trying to impress at the auction?”

He
gave her a grin. “It doesn’t hurt to look and smell my best. I’ve seen how some
of those older women look at me. A cheeky smile and a wink from me puts them
off their bidding.”

Grace
laughed. She wished she had his confidence. “Off you go. Tell me all about it
later.”

“Will
do. See you later, alligator.”

Frankie
held the shop door open as a middle aged woman stepped through. He gave her a
bright smile and said, “Good morning.”

The
woman blushed slightly and mumbled, “Good morning.”

Frankie
shot a backward look at Grace and winked.

She
shook her head as the door closed behind him. Did he have a girlfriend at the
moment? They never seemed to speak about personal matters anymore, it was
always things to do with the shop.

“I’ll
give you twenty pounds for this tablecloth!” an older woman said as she placed
a Victorian cloth on the counter.

Grace
didn’t need to look at the price tag, she knew it was priced at £100. She shook
her head, “It’s £100, Mrs Jones.”

Mrs
Jones tutted. “Your Mum and Dad would have let me have it for £20. This shop
has gone downhill since you and your brother have taken over.”

Grace
gently said, “You don’t have to shop here. There’s a stall in the market that
sells table cloths, you could get two for £20 there.”

Mrs
Jones looked down at the cloth. She ran a hand over the material. Her sharp
eyes flicked back to Grace. “I’ll give you fifty pounds, not a penny more.”

Grace
held her smile in. Mrs Jones tried this tactic with every item that she bought.
Grace had fallen victim to her sneaky tactics the first few times but she was
wiser now.

Grace
pulled the tablecloth away from Mrs Jones’ hand and folded it up. She said,
“It’s £100 and that’s my final price. This is Victorian, and you know it.”

Mrs
Jones glared at Grace. Grace held her stare.

Mrs
Jones burst out laughing. “All right! I’ll give you £100. You’re getting better
at this, Grace.”

The
old woman paid for the tablecloth and Grace wrapped it up in tissue paper. She
handed it to Mrs Jones. “Thank you for your custom, do come back.”

Mrs
Jones’ wrinkly face wrinkled up even more. “I will do, Grace love, this
tablecloth is worth at least £200!”

The
old woman actually cackled as she left the shop.

Grace
shook her head.

There
was another old woman cackle behind her.

Grace
knew who it was. It was Pearl the old woman who lived in the shop.

Well,
not lived exactly, she was dead.

Chapter 2

Pearl
was the ghost of an elderly woman, she wore a floral housecoat over a long blue
dress. She was attached to the shop. She wouldn’t tell Grace anything about
herself other than that she used to help ghosts when she was alive.

Grace
was still coming to terms with seeing ghosts herself and welcomed talking to
Pearl about it, no one else knew that she could see dead people.

Pearl
stood at Grace’s side and nodded towards the shop door. “That Mrs Jones is a
cheeky sod, she always has been. Don’t believe a word she says, she’s as wily
as a fox.”

Grace
nodded. She couldn’t speak to Pearl in front of the customers.

Pearl
said, “Don’t worry about going to the auction today, you don’t always have to
be there to see which locker the ghosts are in. I’ve got a feeling that the
ghost is coming to you today.”

Grace
mumbled out of the corner of her mouth. “Is it the ghost of a murdered person?”

Pearl
nodded. “Oh, it certainly is. I think you’re going to have your hands full with
this one. And there’s something else, you really need to know this ...”

“Excuse
me.” It was the woman who Frankie had held the door open for. She stood in
front of Grace, smiling politely.

“Yes?
Can I help you?”

“I’m
looking for a certain kind of item, well, items really. I was passing your shop
and was drawn in. I’m not sure if what I need is in here though. It’s a lovely
shop, I could spend all day looking!”

Pearl
voiced what Grace was thinking. “Get on with it!”

Grace
was thankful that no one could hear Pearl, tact wasn’t one of her strengths.

The
woman gave a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I’m not making sense. I’ve got a house that
needs decorating and it’s up to me to sort everything out. I’m sure I’m going
to make a complete mess of it, my husband used to say it’s a wonder I managed
without him before we were married. He was good at making decisions for me. I
can’t seem to decide on anything since he’s been gone.”

Grace
felt Pearl move closer. She said to Grace, “Ask her where he’s gone. Is he
dead? Has he been murdered? This could be the ghost coming to us through this
woman.”

Grace
had no intention of asking the woman that. Pearl had no manners.

“What
are you looking for?” Grace asked. “Is it furniture from a certain era?
Decorations of a certain style?”

The
woman frowned and began to fiddle with the belt on her beige coat. “I’ve always
liked the Victorian age, the deep colours and the luxury cloths. But there
again, I like Art Deco things too. The thing is, my husband wanted the house to
look authentic but it was built in 1820, I think that’s the Georgian era? I
don’t know anything about that time period.”

Grace
smiled at the flustered woman. “I studied history at university, I’ve got lots
of books on British history. You could have a look at them if you like, there
are some good websites to look at too.”

The
woman let go of her belt. She gave Grace a relieved smile. “Oh, thank you!
That’s so kind of you. Are you sure? I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“It’s
no trouble at all. The books aren’t here, I keep them at home. You could call
back tomorrow and I’ll have them ready for you.”

Grace
felt her right ear going warm. She knew it was Pearl getting closer. She was
the only ghost that Grace had met that radiated warmth, all the other ghosts
sent chills down her body whenever they came too close.

In
an urgent voice Pearl hissed, “Go to her house! You have to go to her house!”

Grace
faltered. How was she supposed to ask that?
She didn’t need to. The woman handed her a card and said, “Would you like to
come round to the house? It’s being restored to its original condition. If you
studied history you might like to see it. Sorry, was that too forward of me?”

“No,
not at all, I’d love to see it.” Grace took the card.

The
woman gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you, it’ll help having someone else there
to visualise where the new items should go. There are builders there at the
moment and I seem to be constantly getting in their way! Are you sure you don’t
mind? I think there are some modern items that I could do with getting rid of,
I could sell them to you. Oh! Sorry! That sounds like I’m trying to sell you
something.”

 “We’re
in the business of buying! I’d love to visit your house and if you have
anything to sell I’d love to make an offer on it.”

“You
would? That’s so kind. I’d better be off. The builders will be wanting their
tea, they drink endless cups of it all day long. If you think there is anything
in your shop now that would fit in, please bring it along tomorrow. 10 a.m.
okay?”

“Perfect.
I’ll see you then.”

The
woman flustered a bit more with her belt and then left the shop.

There
were no customers within ear shot so Grace said, “What a strange woman, she was
like a frightened mouse.”

Pearl
had a grim look on her face.

“Pearl,
what’s wrong?”

Pearl
pointed to the card in Grace’s hand. “I was right, that woman is related to the
murdered ghost.”

Chapter 3

Grace
looked at the card. It was a business card.

‘A-Ford-Able
Loans’

The
name underneath was ‘Charlie Ford’. It had been crossed out and replaced with
‘Amy Ford’.

There
was a website address, an email address and a postal address.

Pearl
tutted. “How many addresses does a person need? You only had one in my day, if
you were lucky. Hang on, does that say ‘Heathville’? Isn’t that the old house
up on the hill? At the top end of town?”

Grace
was still looking at the card. “It is. When I was doing my history degree I
looked into local history. That house was built around 1820 by Benjamin Heath.
He was a mill owner, one of the better ones. He wanted to be nearer his workers
so he stayed in the town instead of moving out to the country like the rest of
the rich mill owners. I’d heard that the house had been in the same family
since it was built. I wonder if Amy Ford is related to the Heaths?”

“That
doesn’t sound right to me. If the house had been passed down wouldn’t the
furniture have been passed down too? Why does she need new things? And what’s
this about a loan business? If Amy was part of the Heath family wouldn’t she
have her own money?”

“Interesting.
How do you think she’s related to the ghost that we’re supposed to see?”

Pearl
shrugged. “I don’t know everything, I know a lot but not everything. Make a
list of questions and interrogate her tomorrow.”

“I
won’t! I shall have a normal conversation with her. I’ve always wanted to look
inside that house. I wonder if there’s anything in the shop that I could take
her?”

Pearl
wasn’t listening. “That name that’s been crossed out, Charlie Ford, I’ll bet
that’s her husband. She probably murdered him, got away with it and now has his
business and a big house. How did she do it? She didn’t look very strong,
poison would be my best guess. What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“That
woman didn’t look like a murderer. And we don’t even know if anyone has been
murdered!”

Pearl
pressed her lips together and gave Grace a knowing look. Then she said, “I’ve
been in this business long enough to trust my feelings. Everyone is capable of
murder if they’re pushed far enough.”

Grace
said, “Oh, that reminds me, you were just about to tell me something before Amy
Ford started talking to me. Something about ‘having my hands full’ with this
next ghost.”

Pearl’s
hands suddenly flew to her head. She grimaced. “Ouch! Something’s wrong! I’m
not supposed to feel pain like this.”

Grace’s
hand automatically shot out towards Pearl. It went right through her like it was
passing through fog. A man walked up to the counter, he was too busy looking at
a tin toy car to notice Grace’s frantic expression.

He
said, “How much for this? Have you got any more like it?”

“What?”
Grace swivelled her head towards him.

He
held the car up. “Any more like this?”

“I
...” Grace began. She looked back to where Pearl had been standing.

The
old woman had gone.