by Sherri Bryan
“Matts Maid ...Hatt ... my God, this writing is dreadful. Hatts Hom ...Hal ... Hall’s ... It’s Hall’s Hardware!”
As she continued, it began to dawn on her what the books were. Amongst the entries she found the names Hall’s Hardware and Granville’s Haberdashery, with weekly payments of £5.00 written in the columns alongside.
All the businesses in the books had an entry of money paid next to their name, except one.
Next to the name A. Dibble, Fishing Tackle Supplies, all that was written, in large, shaky letters were the words ‘OUT OF SERVICE - PERMANENTLY’.
ººººººº
“Okay, I’m here. What’s so urgent?”
Nathan had left work twenty minutes early following Charlotte’s call, the tone of which had left him feeling slightly uneasy.
“Nathan, you’re never going to believe what I think I’ve got but before I can be certain, can you take me to All Saints, please?”
Nathan looked at his watch. “Charlotte, it’s ten-to nine. On a Saturday night. Why on earth are we going to church?”
“I’ll explain on the way, but I promise, you’re going to be really pleased with me.”
Nathan rubbed his forehead. “Oh God, Charlotte, it’s that voice”.
“What voice?”
“The one that tells me I should be worried. The voice you always use when you’re meddling in things that don’t concern you. Know the one I mean?”
“Oh, shut up.” Charlotte grinned and pinched his cheek. “Come on, let’s go.”
ººººººº
At the church, the evening service had just ended and parishioners were filing out to be greeted by a heavy snowfall.
Charlotte went in search of the flowers that had been in the vestibule earlier and spied them on a marble plinth at the side of the altar.
“Nathan,” she hissed, “they’re here.”
Pulling the magnifying glass from her pocket and one of the books from inside her coat, she held the card from the flowers against it. “See, it’s the same writing.”
“I have to admit, it does appear to be the same.” Nathan looked closely at the unintelligible scrawl through the glass.
“So? D’you think my theory’s right about who the owner of the handwriting is?” Charlotte pushed the book back inside her coat.
“Well, if the writing is the same then it certainly seems to indicate that whoever wrote it was somehow involved in Bill Slade’s protection racket. And if the writing on the card which, with the help of the magnifying glass, looks like it probably says ‘With Love from Mum’, then those books are proof that Maureen Slade had some part in it.”
“But how d’you think they ended up in the café?”
“No idea at the moment but I’ll do my best to find out. In the meantime, I’m going back to the station to speak to the Super and I’m going to need those notebooks, Charlotte. Believe me, if that turns out to be solid evidence against Maureen Slade, I promise you, she’s going to pay for what those business owners went through all those years ago.”
Chapter 9
Charlotte dropped the last of her plastic bottles into the recycling bin and continued on her morning walk with Pippin.
They walked along the seafront, past the marina and headed towards the town centre. “I fancy a change of scenery today, Pip. Let’s start the week with a walk along the high street.”
As they crossed the road, she caught sight of a familiar car parked in a quiet side street. With its tacky sun strip, it was instantly recognisable as the one she’d seen Richard Slade driving.
She cast her mind back to his suspicious behaviour and how secretive he’d appeared when he’d put the holdall in the boot of his car.
What was it Nathan said in his appeal for witnesses? “If you see anyone behaving in a suspicious manner, please do not approach them, but call 999 immediately.”
Charlotte thought carefully about what to do. There was no doubt that Richard Slade had been behaving suspiciously. But that was then. There was no point in calling 999 now, after the event.
She wondered where he was and made a snap decision. Crossing the road, she walked close to the car and felt the bonnet. It was warm. Hmmm. So he’s driven here recently. At that time of the morning, there were no shops open so she guessed he was probably having breakfast somewhere in the town.
As she walked around it she noticed that close-up, the car was even more battered than she remembered and it put her in mind of a very old mini she’d had years ago in Spain when she’d been learning to drive.
On the second day of lessons with her dad, she’d accidentally reversed it into a low wall and from that day, the boot would close but never lock. She’d taken it to a repair shop and when they’d told her that the cost of the repair would be more than the whole car was worth, she’d decided to make do with a boot that wouldn’t lock.
As she looked over Richard Slade’s dented vehicle she wondered if, by the remotest of possibilities, the battered boot of his battered car might also have a lock that didn’t work.
She looked around furtively as she sidled alongside the car. I hope to God no one can see me - I’m behaving just as suspiciously as Richard Slade was.
She desperately wanted to see if there was anything of interest in the boot and doubted she’d get a better opportunity than this to find out.
She reckoned she had another ten minutes of darkness before the sun rose. If I’m going to do anything, I have to do it now.
Firmly pushing the telling-off she was going to get from Nathan to the back of her mind, she walked round to the boot and pressed the button with her gloved hand. For a moment, it seemed as though the lid was jammed tight but when she wiggled the button from side to side, it suddenly popped open.
Feeling the adrenalin starting to pump, she whispered at Pippin to sit. Keeping a watchful eye, she turned on her phone torch and lifted the lid of the boot to reveal a veritable jumble of junk and the stomach-churning stench of rotting food.
Apart from the obligatory jack, wheel brace and red breakdown triangle, the boot contained a battered picnic hamper full of tools, a rusty petrol can, stacks of old newspapers, empty cans and bottles and remnants of leftover food in takeaway cartons and sandwich boxes.
There must be something in here to prove how shady Richard Slade is. There must be.
Charlotte held her breath against the smell and shuddered as she flicked away what the packaging confirmed had once been a tuna sandwich, but which was now a triangle of green mould.
There was nothing of any interest in the boot. Nothing at all. She was too late. Richard had obviously already removed whatever it was he’d put there the other day.
Charlotte sighed in frustration. I’m sure I’m missing something. I’m sure of it. Or maybe I got it wrong. Maybe he wasn’t hiding anything at all.
She was about to close the boot when a thought struck her. I wonder ....
Pushing everything to one side, she lifted the cover to look inside the cavity that housed the spare tyre. Except there was no spare tyre. Just a small black holdall in the well where it should be.
With the memory of the rotting tuna sandwich still fresh in her mind and its stench still in her nostrils, Charlotte gingerly unzipped the holdall and peered inside.
Her mouth dropped open when she saw the contents.
In amongst a selection of tiny crystal ornaments and jewellery inlaid with bright stones were a quantity of Christmas tree baubles, a snow globe paperweight and a solid gold watch with a hexagonal face.
ººººººº
“What am I going to do with you?” Nathan spoke through a mouthful of muesli as he sat at the breakfast bar. “How many times do I have to tell you not to go poking around in stuff, Charlotte? What if you’d been hurt? Good grief, you only went out to walk the dog.”
As delighted as Nathan was that Samuel Slade’s missing watch had possibly come to light, he was in no mood to pussyfoot around the issue with Charlotte.
“
But I wasn’t hurt, was I?” Charlotte was in no mood for a telling-off from Nathan. “Anyway, he must be the killer! Why else would he be hiding his brother’s watch in the boot of his car?
“Give me strength.” Nathan muttered. “Look, don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy to know that a watch that might be Samuel Slade’s missing watch has turned up, but right now, there’s no proof that it’s his.
“And even if it is, that alone is not enough to pin the murder on Richard Slade. How do we know that Samuel didn’t give the watch to his brother? Unlikely, I grant you, but we don’t know for sure.”
“But you’re going to bring him in for questioning, right?” Charlotte’s anxiety level was on high as she pushed for an assurance from Nathan. “Okay, so you may not be certain about the watch, but I’m telling you, I’m convinced that snow globe is mine. You have to bring him in.”
Nathan scratched his head. “Bring him in for what? Concealing cheesy paperweights? And even if I did bring him in, how am I supposed to know what’s in the boot of his car? I can hardly tell him that my fiancée just happened to break into it while she was out walking the dog, can I?
“Look, Charlotte, as much as you want it to be, you don’t know it’s yours - he could have got it from any gift shop in town.” He looked at her troubled face and chose his words carefully.
“The thing is, as things stand, there’s no proof that he’s even committed an offence. But by breaking into his car, you have.”
Charlotte waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind that. And, actually, I didn’t break into it ... it was already open. And why are you taking his side? It’s too much of a coincidence that my snow globe went missing and then the exact same one turns up in his car. Especially as I’m pretty sure he was the last one to touch it and he said he liked pretty things. I bet you any money it’s mine - it’ll have my fingerprints all over it.
“And why would he go to the trouble of keeping it hidden so secretly if he’d bought it? He wouldn’t, would he? And what about all the other stuff? Yolanda’s Christmas tree decorations and goodness knows what else he’s taken a fancy to.”
Nathan had a feeling that Charlotte wasn’t finished yet and he was right.
“And what about the weirdo who’s been lurking around at the back of the café?” She wagged her finger at Nathan. “It’s seriously freaking me out. And what about someone drilling into my wall? You can’t tell me that’s not an offence?
“I’m telling you, Nathan, the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that Richard Slade’s responsible for all the snooping around.” She wrung her hands. “And I’m certain he had something to do with his brother’s murder. The guy’s weird. Please, Nathan. Will you please look into it?”
Nathan held up his hands in submission. “Okay, okay, I’ll look into it. I’ll speak to Richard Slade later. I won’t get time until tonight, but I’ll speak to him. Okay? And for the record, I’m not taking his side I’m just pointing out the facts.”
Charlotte was pacified. Only slightly, but she felt better knowing that Nathan was taking her concern seriously.
ººººººº
“Come on, Pip, let’s go.” Charlotte pulled on her bobble hat and gloves and pulled the front door shut behind her.
For the first time in days, she felt as though a ton weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
After Nathan’s initial reluctance to take her concerns about Richard Slade as seriously as she would have liked, she was delighted that he’d agreed to speak to him again.
Had he murdered his brother? Had he been the one lurking around outside the café?
Charlotte was over the moon that at last, Nathan was on the verge of finding out the answers to these questions, and probably a whole lot more as far as Richard Slade was concerned.
A sudden blast of wind blew snow in her eyes and she blinked against it. Unfazed and head held high Pippin trotted ahead, his new waterproof coat with its fleece lining a worthy barrier against the horizontal snow and biting wind.
If there was one thing Charlotte hated, it was clothes for dogs but the recent drop in temperature had persuaded her to relent. In his smart new hi-vis coat, she had to admit, Pippin was quite the dog about town as he garnered admiring glances from passing dog walkers.
At almost quarter-to nine, the sky had been dark for hours and the wind was whipping up the snow into mini-tornadoes. As it started to come down thick and fast in a sudden blizzard, the streetlights flickered before going off completely and, in the pitch black, Charlotte lost sight of Pippin at the end of the lead as he lunged forward.
“Careful, Pip! You almost had me over!” She righted her footing and walked forward tentatively, stopping when her foot came into contact with something in her path. With the toe of her boot, she felt around the obstruction - it was big and heavy. Her heart suddenly went cold. Oh, good God, please don’t let it be a dog that’s been hit by a car.
She bent down and tentatively reached out her hand but it was difficult to feel anything with her thick gloves on.
She took one of them off and put out her hand, jumping back in alarm when it came into contact with cold flesh. The streetlights flickered again and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped in horror.
Beside a car which bore the message, ‘SPEED DEMON’ on the sun strip, Richard Slade lay on the snowy pavement, foaming at the mouth, his eyes having seen their last.
ººººººº
“I felt for a pulse, but there was nothing.” A distressed Charlotte explained as DS Farrell took notes. “I think he was dead long before I came along - I don’t think I could have saved him.”
“Don’t feel guilty about it.” Nathan came over from where he’d been speaking with the pathologist. “It’ll have to be confirmed but, if early indications are anything to go by, it was cyanide poisoning. That smell of almonds you noticed on his breath? That’s most likely what it was. That being the case, I strongly doubt there was anything you could have done to save him.”
Charlotte frowned as the police investigation gathered momentum with the arrival of the forensics team.
“This is awful. The very person I thought was the murderer turns up dead. Why would he have taken cyanide? He’d only just got of prison. You’d think he’d want to have lived a little, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, if it’s definitely a case of cyanide poisoning, he might not have taken it himself, of course,” said Nathan.
“You think someone might have given it to him? Why? Who would do that?”
Despite Richard Slade’s unsavoury past, Charlotte found it hard to understand that someone would want to murder him for it and her thoughts immediately turned to his mother.
“Oh my goodness! Poor Mrs Slade! In spite of everything, I feel awful for her. Whether Richard took his own life or was murdered, how on earth is she going to cope with the news so soon after Samuel’s death?”
Nathan shook his head. “I have to say, in all the years I’ve known the Slade family, I’ve never felt sorry for any of them but I dread to think how the loss of another son is going to affect Maureen. I’ll tell you one thing for sure, though, she isn’t going to want to get the news from me.
“After the last time I paid her a visit, I think it’d be best if someone else went round this time. I don’t want to add to her upset.” He beckoned to Fiona. “Can you and Ben make arrangements to call at the Slade house, please, and call me when you leave to let me know how things went?”
“Right you are, Chief.” Fiona made herself scarce.
“If someone poisoned him, how on earth did they get the cyanide into him?” Charlotte breathed into her hand to warm up her nose as she pondered the answer to the question. “And why on earth did he get out of his car in weather like this?”
“’No idea’ would be my answer to your first question,” said Nathan, “but if there is cyanide in his system, chances are he’ll have been feeling nauseous. Maybe he stopped to throw up.” Nathan speculated as he peered through t
he misted windows of the car. “Hang on, what’s that?” He pressed his face close to the glass before taking a handkerchief from his pocket and opening the door.
On the passenger seat was a wicker condolence basket which had once been filled with a variety of sweet and savoury items. An empty cake box, a mountain of chocolate wrappers, apple cores, banana skins, a cheese selection tray and the leftover crumbs of a packet of herb biscuits littered the seat and the footwell.
With his hand inside an evidence bag, Nathan picked up an apple core and held it to his nose before doing the same with a morsel of cheese that had fallen between the two front seats.
“What is it?” asked Charlotte.
“I think I just found out the answer to your question. Seems that everything in this basket was laced with cyanide. If Richard’s been eating it over the past few days, that explains how it got into his system. The question is, where did it come from?”
He leaned forward to look at the label on the basket. With our sympathy on the loss of your brother. You are always in our thoughts.
“Who’s it from?” asked Charlotte.
Nathan shook his head. “Doesn’t say.”
The nagging doubt he’d had for the past few days suddenly became more intense. Something troubled him. It had been troubling him for a while but he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.
“And another thing,” said Charlotte. “Where on earth would you get hold of cyanide, anyway? I mean, it’s not like you can just go into a supermarket and buy it, is it? I wouldn’t have the first clue where to get it from.”
Nathan was grim faced. “If I told you that cyanide is a key ingredient in certain poisons, some rat poisons for example, would that give you a clue?”
Charlotte’s expression was blank. “No. I’ve never bought rat poison. Where would you buy it from? A chemist?”
Nathan shook his head.
“A hardware store.”
Chapter 10
