Paying Back The Dead (A Millerfield Village Cozy Murder Mysteries Series 3)

by Carrie Marsh

  The thought would not go away, however, and Laura opened her notebook and wrote down the information she gathered. Imogen Weston has a Swiss bank account. She wants to keep it a secret. She has an investment banker or lawyer who handles her assets. She also wrote down the names “Peter” and “Harling”, just in case they were important. Then she closed her book and went to tidy up after lunch service.

  As she was finishing the last tables – they had to put up extra for the big group Janet threatened – she jumped. The telephone was ringing and she hadn't even noticed! She ran to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Laura.”

  “Howard? Hi! What's the matter?”

  “I couldn't reach you on your mobile! It's urgent. Your cousin just called. Someone left a note in her postbox, saying they were going to kill her.”

  “What?”

  Laura couldn't believe it. She dropped the phone and ran to the front desk. Grabbing her mobile out of her pocket, she noticed a missed call from Judy, and one from Howard.

  “Laura?” Janet called out, walking smartly out of the conference area.

  “Janet! Sorry. I have to make an important call. I'll be back in time for supper service. Promise!”

  “Good...” Janet called out, but Laura was already on the front steps. She had to call Howard. And she had to see Judy as soon as possible.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  FEAR IN MILLERFIELD

  FEAR IN MILLERFIELD

  The cottage where Judy lived was quiet and pretty, undisturbed as ever. Laura and Howard ran up the front steps. Laura had just settled everyone down for supper and it was eight o' clock in the evening. She and Howard ran up the steps to Judy's door, fearing the worst.

  “Judy?” Laura called, banging on the door.

  A young man answered it – taller than Laura, with dark hair and eyes and a narrow face. Laura blinked and he stared at her.

  “Hi...Are you here to talk to Mom? She's not well.”

  “Hi, Andrew?” Laura hazarded.

  “Yes.” His voice was stony.

  “Laura Howcroft. I'm your mother's cousin. And this is Dr. Lucas? We wanted to speak to Mom, if she's okay.”

  “Are you police?” the young man asked suspiciously, looking sideways at Howard.

  “No,” Howard assured him.

  “She's in the sitting-room. I'll tell her you're here.”

  Laura and Howard shared a look and followed the tall young man inside. The house was strangely quiet, and Laura felt an unusual sense of discomfort in the magazine-picture perfection of the hallway. It was as if the threat directed at Judy was written on the very air of the rooms. In the sitting-room, Laura found Judy sitting on the couch. Her face was streaked with tears and she was wearing a nightgown. She looked as if she had lost all hope. When Laura and Howard came in, she stared up at them as if they were salvation.

  “Laura!”

  “Judy! I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

  Judy sniffed and made room for Laura to sit beside her. Laura put her arms around her and they sat close for a moment. Laura could smell lavender and shower-gel and the familiarity of that comforted her at least as much as it did Judy. The woman relaxed and leaned back beside her.

  “Mrs. Hugh?” Howard said gently from the doorway. He and Andrew were standing at the threshold, clearly not wanting to disturb the women.

  “Dr. Lucas?” The sudden hope in her face at seeing them was not lost on Laura.

  “I came as soon as I could. I am so glad we can help. Have you called the police?” Howard asked carefully.

  “The police?” Judy almost spat the word. Laura was shocked to see the contempt on her face. “They think I finished Albie off. They'd just let this nutter kill me.” She leaned back and closed her eyes.

  “No,” Laura said gently. “I'm sure that's not true, Judy. The police are there to protect you.”

  Judy said nothing, but her bitter huff of a laugh spoke volumes.

  “Okay,” Howard said, coming to sit opposite Laura and Judy on an armchair. Andrew looked at the three of them, shrugged and vanished. “Here's what we should do. First, you should make sure you aren't in the house alone, ever. I think your son can help with that,” he added.

  “Yes. I'm so grateful Andrew is here. But term starts next week...” Judy's voice trailed off.

  “I can stay here, Judy. Or you can stay with me,” Laura said immediately. Howard frowned.

  “Or perhaps you can stay with Kim in Drayton for a while?” Howard suggested gently. “It would be safer. If someone is threatening you, are they also threatening her?”

  Good question, Laura thought admiringly.

  “Not as far as I know,” Judy said cautiously. “In fact, I don't see why they would.”

  “Why?” Laura asked, puzzled. “Why would they threaten you? Kim also is a beneficiary in the will, yes? When is it being read?”

  “It's supposed to be tomorrow,” Judy said slowly. “That's why I'm so scared!”

  “Oh.” Laura stared. That was sincerely unpleasant. It also pointed to it being Judy's brother-in-law. “But will Kim be okay?” she persisted.

  “She should be fine,” Judy said quietly. “Not just because she's in Drayton - because she's not involved with her father's business dealings like I was.”

  Howard and Laura exchanged a glance. Laura cleared her throat and Howard held up a cautionary hand. Laura sat back. Go slowly.

  “Can we see the letter?” Laura asked instead.

  “Yes,” Judy said. “It's on the table. I don't want to go near the thing, if you don't mind?”

  Laura nodded. Howard walked across to the dining table and lifted it up. He passed it to Laura.

  If you don't tell Mr. Parson not to touch the will or any other documents of the estate, you die. I can watch where you go and you can't escape me. Count on it.

  Laura read it again, realizing why her cousin was so frightened. It was a really frightening thought. One piece of information stood out.

  “Whoever wrote this knows your lawyer's name.”

  “Well, there are only two in the village,” Howard pointed out.

  “True.” Laura inclined her head. She was still not convinced. “Whoever wrote this must know something about what the will says, or why would they even bother to write it?”

  “I don't know,” Judy admitted. “Though Albie was not...as straight in his dealings as he should have been. It might not be the will that worries whoever wrote this.”

  Laura stared. “I'm sorry?”

  Judy sighed. “Albie wasn't the nicest man you'd ever meet, Laura. Oh, he was a good husband. Lousy father, but a good partner. He was not a good businessman.”

  Howard and Laura exchanged a surprised look. The man must have been good at something, judging by the wealth he seemed to have accumulated.

  “He wasn't?” Laura asked, surprised.

  To her surprise, Judy laughed. “Oh, he was good in the sense that he made money. He just wasn't good. Not in the sense of being strictly legal.”

  “Did he help people evade tax?” Howard asked gently.

  Judy closed her eyes and nodded. “Sometimes,” she said in a small voice. “I don't know what he was doing, Doctor,” she said brokenly. “He didn't tell me about any of it, you understand! I just know he was doing...bad things. It's one of the reasons I am so scared about the police. What if they find out? Oh...” she broke off mid-sentence and collapsed on Laura's shoulder, crying.

  Laura held her as best she could, trying to comfort her. Howard looked at her with round eyes. He was clearly at least as surprised as Laura by this revelation.

  “Okay, Judy,” Laura said gently. “It's okay. We can help as much as we can. Even if they did find out, which I don't think they will, you can come and stay with me. No-one can accuse you of crimes you didn't know about. And Albert is safe now, too.”

  “Yes, I know,” Judy said miserably. “It's just frightening, Laura! And now this...I don't know
how much more I can take!” She sobbed again.

  Howard reached over and touched her gently. “Would you like us to stay here for a while? And can I get you something to make you sleep?”

  “Yes. Please, Doctor. I haven't had proper sleep in days!” Judy said tensely. Laura held her hand and together they waited while Howard went out to the car and returned with a tranquilizer.

  When Judy had taken the pills and was a bit calmer, Laura and Howard said their farewells. Andrew showed them out.

  “Here is my number, if anything happens tonight,” Howard said, passing him his card with his private number on it. Laura squeezed his hand gratefully.

  “Your mom already has my number,” Laura pointed out. “Tell her she can come and stay whenever she needs to?”

  “I will. Thanks,” Andrew added gravely. He was clearly a responsible young man and deeply concerned about his mother. Laura thought she would like this unknown cousin of hers if she got to know him.

  In the car, as they drove back, Laura closed her eyes, leaning back onto the seat. “It's him, isn't it? Brandon Hugh, I mean,” she said.

  “I don't know,” Howard said quietly. “One thing is, we've found out a lot.”

  “We have,” Laura agreed. “Fancy Albert Hugh, involved in scandals!”

  “Yeah! Tax evasion,” Howard sniffed.

  Tax evasion. Laura stared at him. Swiss bank accounts. Local business. Secrets. Privately, she resolved to find out all she could about Imogen and her wealth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  MISSING PERSON

  MISSING PERSON

  “I wonder where she went to?”

  “Sorry?” Laura asked, breezing past the front desk on her way into the hotel. It was almost eight o' clock, and she was hurrying to get to her post.

  “Imogen,” Janet explained. “She was here yesterday, registered to check out on Friday, and yesterday evening – just after you'd left, actually – she ran down here all breathless saying she had to cancel. She had an urgent commitment somewhere else. She still paid for the rest of the stay, though,” she added as an afterthought.

  What? Laura stared at her.

  “What is it, Laura?” Janet asked. “You look shocked. It wasn't that much extra she paid...only three days more.”

  “It's not that,” Laura said, shaking her head to clear it. “Sorry,” she added as she tried to think of some plausible explanation. “I got to bed late last night.”

  “Oh?” Janet smiled at her.

  “Janet!” Laura grinned despite the seriousness, and flushed redly. “I didn't mean because of that...” her voice trailed off.

  “That?” Janet was still smiling, eyes wide and innocent. Laura laughed.

  “Stop teasing me!” she protested. “I'm late.”

  Janet's laugh followed her all the way to the desk.

  At her desk, Laura sat down heavily, her mind reeling. So Imogen left? Just like that? It was probably a coincidence. But the fact that the will was being read today made it seem somehow connected. If she had to leave so urgently, and Judy's lawyer was going through the documents today...was she afraid something would come up? Laura shook her head. It seemed ridiculous, but it also seemed possible.

  “Miss Howcroft?”

  Laura jumped. “Yes?”

  “Sorry!” Bethany said shyly. “I just had to tell you that Mrs Poole in the kitchen is sick again.”

  “Oh. Heck.” Laura stood and ran quickly down the corridor to the kitchen.

  At the kitchen, the scene that met her was one of minor chaos – that in itself was not too unusual: Mrs Poole ran a tight and efficient operation down there, it was just that for anyone else it was an impenetrable world of mayhem and mystery. At the center of the steaming pots, assistants peeling potatoes and mounds of washed carrots, Mrs Poole was standing, a look of pain on her narrow face.

  “Evelyn?” Laura asked, worried. “Is it your hands?”

  “It's the arthritis, lass.” The old woman nodded. “Pains me badly this time of the day. Especially this time of year...” her voice trailed off.

  Laura nodded, biting her lip. Mrs Poole's crippling arthritis sometimes stopped her from working – other than that she was the best cook Laura had ever seen.

  “Can Joey fetch your medicine?” she asked, indicating the teenaged boy – one of the older woman's innumerable relatives in the village who helped her out. Mrs Poole grimaced.

  “Joey's up to his ears in here,” she said, indicating the chaos. “I can't do without him here.”

  “I'll go,” Laura said at once. “Bethany?”

  “Yes?”

  “Cover the phone-calls for me while I'm out? I shouldn't be a moment.”

  “Good. Thanks, Laura,” Bethany added.

  “Don't mention it.”

  Laura ran lightly back to the front desk and out into the street, heading for the small local pharmacy, where she already knew what to ask for. The woman pharmacist was quite lax about needing the prescription, and she gave Laura the medicine almost as a reflex.

  On the way out, Laura, running, collided with a customer in the door.

  “Oh! Sorry...” she began, and then saw who it was. The horrid policeman from her visit to the station. The one she was sure had been watching her.

  “Watch where you're going,” he snapped.

  “I was in a hurry,” Laura bridled, bending to pick up the pill-container. Whoever he was, he had no right to be so rude for no reason! He might be scary, but she refused to accept abuse.

  “Why?” The man asked insolently. “You live just around the corner, don't you?”

  Laura blinked. “I can hurry if I want to,” she said curtly. She looked him up and down and walked out of the door.

  She swore under her breath as she got into her ancient Renault and slammed it. It was only when she was sitting behind the wheel that she noticed something odd.

  He knows where I live.

  “Oh.” The word was a small moue of surprise. If he knows where I live, and he knows that Stanton gave me the note, then...Her mind slammed into a wall and refused to go further. Then he was the one in my house. But why?

  “Oh. Heck.”

  Laura put her foot on the gas and drove back to the hotel. When she reached it, she was shaking. She walked down to the kitchen to deliver the pills, and then went back to her desk. She reached for her phone to text Howard.

  I have something I need to tell you. See you later? Kisses.

  She sent it and then leaned back, sighing. She needed a coffee. She needed to think straight. More than anything, she needed to find out why she was being stalked by a policeman.

  Lunch service was brief, the guests few. Laura found herself with time on her hands and sat back watching the coming and going. She tuned into the conversations at the three occupied tables, but very little of what was discussed seemed interesting. As she helped Bethany clearing things away, she overheard one interesting piece of information.

  “I saw Judy and Andrew in the park,” a woman was saying to her companion.

  “Oh? Good to have Andrew back in the village. He was such a nice boy. Even if he is here for his father's memorial service...”

  The other woman grimaced. “I don't want to speak ill of the dead, Janice, but I'm not sorry to see the back of him.”

  The other woman nodded. “I know, Amy...I was talking to Bert, and, as he said, at least we know the tax is fair.”

  The two women shared a knowing nod. Laura, listening in, stared.

  The whole village knew he was crooked? But how? And if they did, why did no-one do anything about it?

  Even as she thought it, Laura sighed. They didn't do anything because it was a village. Everyone knew everyone else, and whether they were friends of Judy or whether they were friends with someone involved in the crooked dealings, they all had reasons not to want anyone to know.

  “Laura?”

  “Mm?”

  “Mrs Poole sent some cake up for you,” Bethany said, nod
ding towards Laura's place at the desk. “I put it there at your desk.”

  “Oh!” Laura smiled. “Thanks.”

  After she had finished clearing away, she returned to her desk. She sighed. What a day! She reached for her notebook and wrote three lines. The cake was delicious – Mrs Poole's best chocolate cake – and she finished it off as she worked.

  Missing actress. Crooked taxman. Stalking police-officer.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. She was looking forward to seeing Howard later that day. If anyone could make sense out of all of that, it would only happen when they discussed it together.

  The thought of Howard's company made her smile. In a bad day, there was a ray of sunshine after all. She went to clean out the filing-cabinet, feeling more positive than she had all day.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  KNOWING AN ENEMY

  KNOWING AN ENEMY

  “So he really knows where you live?” Howard frowned at her.

  “Yes,” Laura nodded. “He knew I lived around the corner from the pharmacy.”

  She and Howard shared a look. It was late, and they had just had supper. Howard had discussed the findings around the murder-weapon, which were not too many: there were no fingerprints on it, and no way of knowing where it had come from or who had thrown it away in the first place. Laura had told him her own news about the policeman and about the actress. It was the policeman that worried them both.

  “I don't understand why he would want to hurt you, though, Laura,” Howard said, concerned. “Yes, I think he did come in here. And he probably stole the note. But would he come back?”

  “I don't know,” Laura said, shivering involuntarily. On her knee, Monty shifted position and snuggled closer to her. She stroked his head and he purred.

  “I'm just glad I'm here,” Howard concluded.

  “I'm glad you're here too,” Laura said in a small voice. She reached across the table for his hand. He held hers, and then he kissed it. The sensation of his lips on her fingers made Laura catch fire. She gently shifted Monty to the couch and stood up.