‘Was it poison then?’ he asked, but judging by what the doctor had just told him he suspected that the assumption had been correct.
‘Yes, it was. And digitalis, as you suggested to test for. There wasn’t a great deal in her system, but enough to cause a reaction. By the way,’ he continued, ‘can I ask you why you thought it might be poison in the first place; what you described to the emergency service personnel must have looked to any casual observer like an epileptic fit?’
‘It’s in connection to the case we’re working on. You already have two people related to it at the hospital with the same diagnosis.’
‘Ah, I see. In any case, I’d say that your swift appraisal most likely saved her life.’
‘So, she’s going to be all right?’
‘She is. She needs to stay in hospital for a few days though, just to make sure.’
‘Of course. Thank you, doctor.’
‘Thank you too.’
‘How’s our patient?’ Fielding asked when he’d ended the call.
‘Saved by my speedy action, it seems,’ Burton said to her.
‘She’s very lucky then.’
‘In that respect, yes,’ Burton quipped. ‘Perhaps not so much with this case.’
‘So, how do you think the poison was administered to her?’
‘I’m thinking that when she and Marilyn Parkinson had their little tussle, Parkinson managed to inject her with some of what was in the syringe.’
‘Think it’s a good idea to question her again and bring that into the conversation, then?’
‘I do,’ he smiled. ‘I think we’ve a good case to charge all three with attempted murder until we get to the truth of the matter. Apart from the deaths of the other victims, the other main thing we need to know was why did Maria have to die, and exactly how had she been poisoned and by whom?’
But before he had a chance to question Caroline Watkins again, Burton’s friend Mark from the Fraud Squad rang him to say that the Richardsons had both pulled through, thanks mainly to Burton’s suggestion to screen them for digitalis poisoning. That was twice his quick-thinking had saved lives. The couple had been charged while on the recovery ward, and had now been moved to private rooms with a police presence in attendance until they could be sent to prison.
‘I think what we found out might be of interest to you, Joe,’ Mark said and related what he and his team had discovered about Faraway Dreams.
‘We managed to get a list of all the people the company did out of their savings in order to urge them to press charges, and there was a name on the list we thought you’d like to be made aware of.’
‘Oh?’ Burton was intrigued.
‘Yes, it’s Tim Turnbull, John Turnbull’s father.’
Burton could hardly believe it. This was what he’d been looking for, John Turnbull’s motive. He must have married Maria Richardson for one reason only, to kill her in order to get her parents back to the UK. When interviewing the parents Mark had discovered that Maria had fallen out with her family when they’d decided to pack up and leave. As she was attending university, with a career planned out, she hadn’t wished to uproot herself and join them, and this had caused some friction. She had remained in touch with her parents, but didn’t wish to go out to Spain to visit them simply because they told her that they didn’t want to return back to the UK . . . for anything. She took that to be her included. The reason was now quite clear: they feared they’d be arrested as soon as they set foot in the country. John’s reason for marrying her seemed to be, Burton figured, cold and calculated revenge for what her parents had done to his.
‘Thank you, Mark, that’s answered quite a few questions,’ Burton said to his long-time friend, ‘and provided us with some solid evidence.’
‘Glad I could help. It’s the least I could do in return.’
***
Once the Crown Prosecution Service agreed with Burton that there were grounds for charges based on the evidence provided, they could finally try to get to the bottom of who did exactly what, as up to that point none of the three suspects were forthcoming with the truth. Despite initially believing Marilyn Parkinson to be an innocent victim, from what Caroline Watkins had said prior to her taking ill, he believed that they all had played some part to play in the deaths of Maria Turnbull, Harry York, Norman Bishop and Valerie Wilton. Everything seemed to point to John Turnbull being the puppet master, playing his suitors off one against the other for his own warped purposes. Yet, Burton and his team still didn’t know who had actually done the killings – it could have been John Turnbull and Marilyn Parkinson, Turnbull and Caroline Watkins, or all three together; either option was possible.
After more evidence-collecting and detailed questioning, Burton and the team finally got the results they wanted. John Turnbull, finally realising that there was nowhere left to turn, admitted his part in his wife’s death and the attempted murder of her parents. In the case of his wife, he’d given her what was to be a fatal dose of digitalis in the meal she had before meeting up with her friends. As the couple took turns to cook, he insisted that as she was going out that night, he should be the one to make a meal for her, telling her that he’d eat later. Maria, completely oblivious to his intentions, had happily agreed to his offer. Turnbull admitted that the idea to use the poison came directly from her prescribed medication, hoping that its presence in her system would be put down to that. When asked where he’d obtained it from, he told them that he’d bought a foxglove plant and used the chopped leaves in the meal he’d prepared. In the case of the Richardsons, he’d used some in a drink he’d given them. When asked what his motive was, he confirmed that it was retaliation for the fact that his own parents had been robbed of their life savings by the Richardsons’ business venture a decade ago.
He also admitted to the killing of Norman Bishop, and named Caroline Watkins as helping him with that. Although Turnbull was present at the death of Harry York, he said that Caroline had fired the arrow which had killed him, dressed in the costume that had been her own. It transpired that in her youth she’d been an expert archer, competing for the county in national competitions, something Burton’s team hadn’t been able to discover about her. It seemed that this was the one occasion where Caroline’s silver tongue wouldn’t be able to talk its way out of a mess. Sadly, Valerie Wilton had been an innocent bystander, who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and had seen both Turnbull and Watkins bending over the body at the rear of the estate agency. They had followed her home, whereupon he had forced entry into the property and strangled her. When asked why they had to die as well as Maria, Turnbull said that it was all part of the game of misdirection, and to point the finger of suspicion at Marilyn Parkinson. Although cited innocent of any involvement in all three deaths, Parkinson had managed to inject Caroline with some of the syringe contents when the two had tussled at her business premises, causing a reaction to the latter while being questioned. Turnbull had provided each with a syringe, and set up the confrontation. The only thing was, he’d told both of them that it was just a liquid laxative that would give the other a very bad case of diarrhoea at worst. Neither of them knew that the syringes contained liquefied digitalis, and would be lethal. For that reason, the law was far more lenient upon Parkinson than the other two. Her only crime appeared to be her love for John Turnbull. When both John Turnbull’s and Caroline Watkins’s homes had been searched, two pay-as-you-go phones had been found, one for each of them, and had contained incriminating text messages between them. This compounded the cases against them.
EPILOGUE
Whenever the team closed a case, they spent that evening in their local having a celebratory drink, and this evening would be no different. Their choice of pub being one just around the corner from the station. Not only did the team want to mark the end of yet another case, but also wanted to celebrate the promotions of Joe Burton, Sally Fielding and Jack Summers.
‘Why don’t we
make an evening of it and book a table for the two of us at that restaurant we were talking about the other day?’ Burton said to Fielding before they left.
‘You mean the Italian one in the Northern Quarter?’
‘Yes. You said that you’d like to try it.’
‘I did. So yes, I’d love to.’
‘Good. I’ll go ahead and book it then.’
What Sally Fielding didn’t know was Burton’s specific reason for suggesting the restaurant, one she’d find out later that night.
At 7.30 p.m., the two detectives called for a cab and excused themselves from the team’s celebrations to make their way to the restaurant. Once there, they were shown to a quiet table near the rear and away from everyone. Although not overly busy, the restaurant still had a fair number of patrons in it.
‘It’s nice to get a bit of peace and quiet!’ Fielding laughed, having spent the last few hours in a busy public house with the rest of the team, and most of the time having to shout over the noise to be heard.
‘Yes, I know what you mean.’
‘This is really nice,’ she said, looking around her at the decor. It was modern, but with a hint of old-world charm, with photographs of famous Italian landmarks adorning the walls.
Burton was becoming more nervous by the second, but managed to contain it well. At least, well enough for Fielding not to suspect anything.
‘I took the liberty of ordering us a bottle of Champagne, to celebrate both our promotions,’ he said as he saw a waiter approaching from behind with a bottle and a wine cooler in hand.
‘Oh, Joe, that sounds lovely!’ Fielding exclaimed. It had been a long time since she’d had a real Champagne, usually only buying the cheap fizz from the local supermarket. Not that there was anything wrong with her Pink Fizz as she called it, as she was partial to it now and again.
‘Well, it is a bit of a special night, isn’t it?’ he said confidently, despite fighting back his jitters.
When the waiter arrived, he set the cooler and its stand on the floor and popped the cork from the bottle, pouring only an initial small amount in each of the two flutes.
‘Cheers!’ Burton said, picking up his glass and chinking it with hers. The sound of the two crystal flutes meeting rang out a clear, pleasant tone.
‘Oh, wait!’ he suddenly declared, putting it down again. ‘I think there’s something in your glass, right at the bottom. Here, let me get it out for you.’
Fielding hardly had time to see what it was before he’d taken the glass from her and stuck his fingers right into it. Feeling a bit embarrassed, she looked up at the waiter and wondered what he must be thinking, but he only looked down at her and smiled. Strange.
It was then that Burton’s sudden movement caught her attention and she looked back at him. He rose from his seat and pushed his chair back, at the same time the waiter pulled the wine cooler away from the table. Walking around to her, Burton got down on one knee and held something up in his hand. As she focused on it, she saw he was holding a diamond ring.
‘Joe . . . what’s . . .’ she began, but before she could say any more, he shushed her into silence.
‘We’ve been working together now for seven years, and in that time I’ve grown to love you in a way that I didn’t even think possible. Finding beauty in a job like ours is rare, but I found you, the most beautiful person I know or ever will. You’re my life, Sally, and I want to spend every minute of the rest of mine with you. I’ve already asked your mother for her blessing and she’s very kindly given me it,’ he laughed nervously before continuing. ‘Alice Sally Fielding,’ he began, gulping hard, ‘would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?’
Fielding was still reeling from the shock of seeing him finger-deep into her champagne glass, so this wonderful speech he’d just graced her with was yet another. But in her mind there was no doubt, none whatsoever, so there was only one answer she could give him. ‘You’re the love of my life, Joe, so yes, yes, of course I will!’
At this point, the whole restaurant erupted, with staff and customers alike applauding to celebrate two people declaring their love for one another. Burton was relieved, and also delighted that his plan had worked without too much stress. He was also thrilled that the love of his life had agreed to marry him. It was a wonderful moment for both of them, as far away from the horrors of their job as they could get.
***
Everyone deserves happiness, but sometimes that happiness can be short-lived. Joe Burton and Sally Fielding had just pledged their undying love for one another and agreed to marry; it was the happiest moment of both their lives, neither would dispute that. However, little did either of them know that, even as the engagement ring was being so ceremoniously slipped onto Sally’s trembling finger, the seeds of their next case were being sown at that very moment of Joe’s proposal. Long-hidden secrets, lies and shame had emerged which would lead one individual to enact revenge against perceived wrong, and in doing so test the team to their limit, changing their lives forever.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’d like to thank Dark Edge Press for giving me the opportunity to continue the Detectives Burton and Fielding crime novels. Special thanks go to Louise Mullins, Michael Norman and my editor, Caroline Vincent, for their help and support throughout.
If you’ve enjoyed reading this book, please consider leaving a review. It need only be a few words or just a rating, and it means a great deal to authors to get feedback from their readers.
Pamela Murray is from the North East of England and has spent most of her life living in Boldon, a semi-rural village mid-way between Newcastle, Sunderland, and the coastal town of South Shields.
She began writing in her teens, when she and a school friend used to write short stories for one another. The writing continued on and off over the years, but was only reignited within the last decade when the same school friend introduced her to her local writers group.
She had intended to enter journalism after leaving school but found herself going to work in a public library instead, so there’s always been more than a passing interest in books, writing, and literature.
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