Malice Aforecourt: Hettie & Ceefer Mysteries, #1

By Rennae Todd

He was an irritating man, but just because she'd argued with him didn't mean she wanted him dead.

Hettie Parke enjoys her position as president of the Parke Croquet Club, but she can't believe her eyes when she finds her croquet mallet wrecked beyond repair. She isn't just annoyed. She's furious. Someone will pay for this. But her fury quickly turns to dismay when her damaged mallet is linked to the murder of the Bowls Club president whose body is found on her croquet court.

Hettie decides she'd better uncover some other likely suspects quick smart. But even with the help of that cat Ceefer she's struggling for answers, and her mother isn't about to forgive her for dragging the Parke name into a murder investigation. As if she had a choice. Can she uncover the killer before her hoop-running days are over? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jakada Books
• Release date: Aug 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223980544

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In this Story

Malice Aforecourt is the first title in the Hettie & Ceefer Mystery series set in the fictional outer-Perth townships of Woody Lake and Rosny, located on either side of the Cygnet River.

In this story, Hettie Parke is President of the Parke Croquet Club, daughter Violet runs the Club Cafe, and brother Larry is a member of the Bowls Club.

Up to now, the Croquet and Bowls Clubs have shared a single clubroom, working around the requirements of each in a – mostly – amicable manner. But the welcome addition to the Clubhouse of a second clubroom has raised the issue of which club will occupy it. What should be a simple decision is proving contentious as personalities and agendas clash. But Hettie considers murder is rather taking things to the extreme, especially when she finds herself the prime suspect.

Main Characters

Parke Family

Henrietta (Hettie) Parke – 48-year-old President of the Parke Croquet Club and a relief teacher. Divorced and widowed from Brian Hitchcock, whose name she didn’t take. Lives at 6 Old Dairy Road.

Ceefer – a black cat who recently arrived in Hettie’s life. Has some unusual talents, not yet fully understood.

Violet Hitchcock – Hettie’s 22-year-old daughter. Runs the Club Cafe. Lives with Hettie.

Elly and Rafe  Figeroa -  Hettie’s 27-year-old daughter, works part-time in advertising. Husband Rafe, landscape designer. Two daughters, Jazmin (4) and Rosa (2). Live at 4 Old Dairy Road.

Larry and Gwen Parke – Hettie’s younger brother, aged 46. Plays bowls. Runs the Parke Real Estate Agency with wife Gwen. She and Hettie are friends, most of the time. Live at 2 Old Dairy Road on the corner of Jersey Street.

Pearl, Max and Maxxie Longchamp – Hettie’s younger sister aged 37. Married to businessman Max. Their 20-year-old son Maxxie is a university student.  Previously lived at 10 Old Dairy Road, now live on Rosny Circle.

Jack and California (Callie) Parke – Hettie’s parents. Live in a villa unit at Sunny Vale Retirement Village.

Alice Slater –Alice is Jack’s Parke’s younger sister. A widow now, she lives at 8 Old Dairy Road.

Eddie, Gloria and Frank Garcia – Related to Callie Parke. Eddie is a retired plumber. His son Frank, early 30s, is a primary school sports teacher. Eddie’s sister Gloria favours conspiracy theories. They occupy two houses further along Old Dairy Road.

Others

Detective Inspector Grayson Fox – Perth homicide squad. Someone Hettie knew quite well some years ago.

Sergeant Stuart Higgins – In charge of Rosny Police Station

Dan Wallace – reporter for the Rosny Record

Mrs. Edith Braxton and Mrs. Ila Bronson – Known as the Mrs. B’s. Frequent the Club Cafe and live opposite on Old Dairy Road.

Janelle Rice – knew Ceefer’s previous owner, Miranda. Has a white Persian named Aurora who is Ceefer’s troublesome friend.

Various Croquet and Bowls Club members – Judy Sanford, Romola Asquith & Belle Danvers play croquet, and are friends of Hettie’s.

Parke Trust

Bladen (Den) Barrett – former mayor of Cygnet LGA

Isolde Reflex – lawyer

Darla Dalrymple – owner of Top Cut Hair Salons

Chapter One

An Unpleasant Discovery

Hettie called good morning to Aunt Alice, who was watering the roses in her front garden next door and crossed Old Dairy Road to the park. She was looking forward to croquet this bright spring morning after three days of teaching at Rosny Primary. Those fourth graders could be exhausting but she enjoyed the variety of relief teaching and the fact that, at only forty-eight, she didn’t need to work full-time.

A breeze carried snatches of Pavarotti’s Nessun Dorma from the Sunny Vale Retirement Village on the other side of Green Lake – which fortunately wasn’t as green with algae as it used to be. As if joining in the song, a magpie warbled above in the plane tree. Up ahead, the red-brick, iron-roofed Clubhouse of the Parke Bowls and Croquet Club sat as solid as it had when built by her grandfather, Terry Parke, fifty years earlier when the township of Woody Lake was established on his Sunny Vale Dairy Farm.

She heard someone call her name and turned. Larry was striding across the grass toward her, bowls bag in hand. Hettie waited for her younger brother before continuing up the park to the Clubhouse. Both tall and dark-haired with brown eyes and oval faces – Hettie’s finer than her brother’s – they made a colourful duo this Saturday morning. 

Hettie’s yellow T-shirt under a darker, almost orange, jacket sported the Parke Croquet Club logo and topped her white capris and trademark yellow Skechers. Larry, by contrast, was wearing the green plaid blazer over white shirt and pants that made up the uniform of the Parke Bowls Club.

George rang me this morning, Larry informed her gloomily. Said he needed to warn me. Craig was in a foul mood at practice last night, and probably wouldn’t be any better today. 

Serves him right, Hettie said, unrepentant. He should have made a decision on the new clubroom.

You know what his problem is, don’t you?

Yes, he’s an arrogant idiot.

Well, that, granted. But he’s afraid you want to take over the Clubhouse and push out the Bowls Club.

I just said he was an idiot, didn’t I? It’s a waste of time us talking about this, Larry. I’ve taken the matter out of his hands. The members will decide now which club gets the new clubroom.

Larry groaned. Might be better if I just go home right now.

You could always play croquet, Hettie told him sweetly.

Larry ignored the jab. While Hettie had embraced her responsibilities at the Croquet Club, her brother had sat back, not taking on any administrative role at the Bowls Club. It left him open to the whims of Bowls Club president Craig Lewis. And what whims they were.

Was it only a few months back when they’d all been getting on so well? Hettie had enthusiastically supported Craig’s proposal to add another room to the Clubhouse, so each club could have its own space and didn’t have to share the one clubroom. The Croquet Club had contributed their share of the cost for the addition, and all their members were looking forward to its completion. But at Wednesday night’s committee meeting Craig had refused to say which of the two clubrooms he preferred, nor would he agree to Hettie’s choice, whichever one she chose.

Hettie had claimed she didn’t mind which room they ended up with. She did of course, and she knew Craig suspected as much, but he could also see the benefits both rooms offered, and he wasn’t about to give the Croquet Club – or her – any advantage if he could help it. They were at a stalemate. So, she’d moved a motion for a general meeting of the members of both clubs to vote on the matter, effectively cutting him out of the decision.

It was that notice you sent out about the general meeting that really tipped him over the edge George said, Larry told her now. 

Hettie frowned. She supposed she might have been a bit heavy handed in what she’d written, but she’d been mighty frustrated at Craig’s behaviour on Wednesday. She had cooled down a little since then.

Listen, she said, you’ve got the Mount Lawley Club visiting today. Those fellows are going to take up half the clubroom and make twice as much noise. Just think, you could be in your own room right now and have all that lovely space all to yourselves. And so could we, she added half to herself. She heaved a heartfelt sigh, hoping she wouldn’t regret what she was about to say. Talk to Craig, Larry. If he makes a decision today we can cancel the meeting.

Fair enough.

They entered the gate to the paved patio that separated the Clubhouse from the bowling greens. No one was out on the greens, which seemed a little unusual. Craig was probably holding a strategy meeting. On the other side of the building another patio fronted three croquet courts. Cars belonging to players of both clubs filled the carpark, and lined the long length of Old Dairy Road, which surrounded three sides of the park.

At this time of day, customers in the Club Cafe at the front of the Clubhouse would be locals who had walked over for their cup of tea or coffee, and one of Violet’s muffins. There’d also be a few players getting in a quick cuppa, or even breakfast, before their games. Hettie hoped her daughter had made cinnamon rolls today. The thought of that delicious, iced treat with a cup of coffee made her taste buds tingle. She’d make time for it. Hettie smiled to herself. The sun was shining, and all was well with her world.

Inside the clubroom, Hettie greeted several of her club members as she headed to the croquet office. Their responses were strangely subdued. Was this general meeting preying on everyone’s minds? She hoped it wasn’t creating friction between the clubs. They should all be celebrating the possibility of having their own space.

Hettie hung her bag and jacket on the coat stand in the corner of their office and frowned at the two trolleys of court equipment – hoops, pegs, and balls – that were still there. Len Travers was on the roster for court setup this week. He must be running late. Unusual for him.

She