“Don’t tell me no fibs.”
“It’s true,” Mitchell intervened. “I helped a lady who fell from the bridge into the river. When I got back to the bridge my toolbox was gone.”
Margie closed an eye. “I heard about that. Was she all right?”
“I’m still trying to find her.”
She nodded once. “Oi, Petey. Did you see that woman on the bridge? Did you see where she went to?”
“Stop it, Margie.”
“You need to tell this fella. Tell ’im, or he might have you down the station again. You ’ear me?”
Peter pulled on his T-shirt sleeve. “She wore yellow.”
“Yes, she did.” Mitchell sat forward. “The woman who fell wore a yellow dress.”
“She met her twin.”
“A twin? Really?” Margie said. “Any other nuggets in your ’ead?”
“She was shiny. Not like you,” Petey snapped back.
The two of them glared at each other, and Petey folded his arms. He peered at Mitchell through his fringe. “Her twin was shiny.” He pressed a finger to his collarbone and drew a semicircle.
Margie puffed out her cheeks. “Might have known it. You spotted ’er necklace.”
He nodded. “Big and gold and shiny.”
“You should keep your eyes to yourself.”
“Big, shiny pineapple.”
A shiver ran down Mitchell’s spine and Liza’s photo flashed into his mind. The three sisters in a row, Liza, Yvette and Naomi. They looked so alike.
“So, you saw a woman and she wore a gold pineapple necklace?” he confirmed.
Peter nodded and his eyes glowed. “Shone like the sun, it did.”
Margie tossed her head at Mitchell. “That mean something to you?”
Mitchell breathed deeply. He stood up and took hold of his toolbox handle without checking all the tools were inside. “Yes. It does. Can you tell me anything else about the twin?”
“You’re wasting your time,” Margie said. “He’d have been looking at her necklace more than her.”
Petey shrugged a shoulder, agreeing.
Mitchell nodded. “Thank you, Margie. I should give you a reward.”
“No need for that. Just doing what’s right.” Margie bristled. She stood up and wrapped her arm around Petey’s neck in a headlock. She shook her fist in his face before pressing the lightest kiss against his forehead. “He’s all right, really. Not such a bad ’un.”
Peter grinned up at her. “Love ya, sis.”
Margie accompanied Mitchell to the door. “It don’t get no easier,” she sniffed as she unfastened the latch.
He wasn’t sure what he could say. “You’re doing your best.”
She shook her head and opened the door. “It never feels good enough.”
As Mitchell walked away, the clouds had grown even darker and rain pricked his cheeks. He pictured Poppy making a crown with her fingers behind her head, and Liza doing the same.
But most of all he saw the large gold pineapple necklace that Naomi Bradfield wore in the photo of her laughing with her sisters. Had she really been on the bridge that day, at the same time as Yvette? What was she hiding from them?
When he turned the corner, the rain fell harder, drops hissing as they hit the still-hot pavement. After texting Liza to tell her he was going to call around on his way home, Mitchell dug his hands into his pockets. He walked quickly, curving his back against the weather, wondering just what was going on in the Bradfield family.
23
PINEAPPLE
When Mitchell approached Liza’s house, he felt fidgety with nerves at what he had to tell her. The rain had yet to come down fully, but the clouds were growing even darker and wet specks were more frequent on the pavement. He placed his toolbox on Liza’s doorstep and knocked on her door. As he waited for her to answer, his insides churned.
She greeted him with a friendly smile and it felt good to be so welcomed. “This is a nice surprise,” she said. “Luckily for you, I’m not working this afternoon.”
“Hi,” he said, the lightness in his voice not reflecting the turmoil he felt.
When he followed Liza into the hallway, he noticed there was something different about her today. Her perfume had a tropical, fruity aroma and her lips were bright pink when they were usually bare. He wondered if he had caught her on her way out somewhere, but she didn’t mention anything.
“You’ve got your toolbox back,” she noted happily as they reached the kitchen. “That’s so great. Cup of tea?”
“I thought it was gone forever.” He could hear that he sounded too chipper. “And I’d love a drink.”
She picked up her teapot and dropped in a couple of tea bags. “Where did you find your tools?”
“A young man called Petey took them from the bridge.”
“He stole them from you?”
“I don’t think he could help himself.”
She stared at him quizzically.
“He collects shiny things,” Mitchell explained. “I think his sister has a lot on her plate dealing with him and the stuff he brings home. He took my toolbox and a shovel that day.”
“Hmm, that’s most unusual...”
Mitchell pursed his lips, thinking of how to broach the subject of Naomi. He must have paused a bit too long, because Liza noticed.
“Anything wrong?” she asked, setting down two teacups and a jug of milk on the kitchen table. She sat down and poured him a cup of tea.
Mitchell pulled out a chair and joined her. He sipped the tea slowly. “Well, um, Petey said he saw Yvette, before and after her accident,” he said. “I think he might have been watching her...”
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t like the sound of that. It seems suspicious.”
“No, not in that way.” He realized he had to just spit it out. “Petey said he saw Yvette meet with her twin on the bridge. Someone who looked like her, and she wore a gold pineapple pendant. I thought it sounded like Naomi.”
Liza digested his words and began fiddling with her pink Perspex earring. “Well, it can’t possibly have been,” she said snippily. “This Petey person stole from you, so he can’t be very trustworthy. Naomi would have said something to me, if she’d seen Yvette that day.”
Mitchell held her gaze. “He gave a clear description of her.”