by Carol Wyer
He shook his head. ‘No, Harriet’s death was an accident. She and Linda went away for a girls’ spa break. Harriet got drunk and went for a swim on her own after Linda had gone to bed. She slipped on the tiles by the pool and cracked her head, tumbled into the water and drowned. Her husband, Alan, was devastated. He and Harriet used to come around for the odd dinner party before the accident. We used to play Trivial Pursuit. Linda loved that game. She always won the pink wedge because she was heavily into entertainment. Loved watching movies, especially romantic comedies. Invariably sobbed at a happy ending.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘The Hall owners paid Alan compensation for her death. He never divulged the sum. How much value do you put on the life of someone you love dearly? He sold his house and moved away to Knowle, over Solihull way. He severed contact with us. Linda was never quite the same afterwards. She took it really badly. Luckily, Louis helped bring her back out of herself.’
Sharp tingling pinpricks ran up Robyn’s spine. She thought of the dinosaur skeleton lying in pieces on the floor of the Upton’s lounge. She was about to pick up the first piece of her own puzzle. She spoke calmly, even though her heart was racing. ‘Which hotel spa did they visit?’
‘Bromley Hall. It’s about twenty miles away.’
She said her goodbyes and raced off to her vehicle, boots crunching conspicuously on the gravel in the drive. She was sure she was on to something, but the euphoria of knowing that was tempered by the thought that Louis would soon learn the dreadful news that his mother was not coming home and would never be able to make up the dinosaur skeleton with him.
Twenty-Six
Jeanette dropped onto the bed beside her husband. ‘I have gossip.’ Ross pushed himself into a sitting position and propped a large pillow behind his back.
‘I have stiff joints and I’ve decided I’m allergic to exercise and healthy living. I have, however, spent the most of the day mooching about Bromley Hall and chatting to some of the employees. I also got a free sample of bread and butter pudding in the kitchens, so it wasn’t all wasted. Robyn is right about the CCTV cameras. They seem to be focused on areas in the spa and pool area that I can’t access or check out fully, not without someone seeing me. So, Mrs Cunningham, what have you uncovered?’
‘I’ve been talking to one of the guests who was here at the beginning of the week, Fiona Maggiore. She’s a regular visitor. At first I thought she was a bit stuck up, but she’s actually okay. She’s married to some filthy rich property dealer, but I get the impression it’s not a happy marriage. She told me that there have been changes going on here over the past few weeks, and none of them for the better. Quite a few of the staff have been made redundant, and those who are left are not happy bunnies.’
‘How does Mrs Filthy Rich know all this?’
‘She’s got a special relationship with one of the staff here.’
‘You mean she’s bonking someone?’
‘You have such a way with words, Ross.’
‘Well, is she?’
‘That’s the impression I got.’
‘Did she say she was?’
‘We women have a way of communicating hidden meanings to other women without words.’
‘Like mind readers.’ He grinned at her. She thumped him playfully on the arm.
‘She says there’d been a lot of ill feeling towards Miles Ashbrook since he began laying off people willy-nilly. He started hiding out in his office so as not to be verbally attacked by anyone, but the day he died somebody was overheard yelling at him in his office.’
‘Who?’
‘Apparently it was Jakub Woźniak, the man who is responsible for cleaning the spa. There was some hoo-ha over Miles sacking Jakub’s wife, Emily. She worked on reception. Two weeks ago, a few of the women who worked the front desk and in the back offices were called into Miles’s office and given instant dismissal with a redundancy package. When they challenged it they were told they could either take the money while it was offered or leave when the place was shut down due to lack of funding. He was brutal about it. The women accepted the offer and left that same day, but Jakub Woźniak took the news of his wife’s dismissal very badly. He and Emily then discovered they have a second child on the way and need the income more than ever. Anyway, last Wednesday morning, he marched into the office and threatened to kill Miles.’
‘Hmm. It could be heated words that didn’t mean anything.’
‘Fiona is completely convinced he meant it, and I thought it was worth mentioning. We had quite a chat in the spa whirlpool. She loves it here, and knows almost everybody. I’m certain she doesn’t come here for the treatments alone. You ought to check it out.’
‘I shall. I spoke to Jakub Woźniak earlier. He seemed a little brusque. I’ll have to try and talk to him again. I don’t suppose you could get Fiona to divulge who her source is?’
‘I might. I’ve invited her to join me for champagne at six at the bar. I’ll see if I can coax it out of her.’
‘Super. Not so super is that I have another training session with a different instructor. I’m going to try some ju-jitsu class with Scott Dawson. I can’t wait! I’ve tried to talk to Scott but he’s always busy. This seems to be only way to get to him. I hope to grab him for a few minutes after the class if I haven’t seized up completely and can still walk. Brad told me Scott’s been here since it opened, and I’m sure he’ll have some opinion on the subject of Miles Ashbrook. I’m also a little curious why everyone is cagey about the original pool and spa being sealed up. Maybe Scott can enlighten me. I had hoped to talk to Charlie about it, since he’s happy to talk about anything, but he’s off today and tomorrow.’
‘You don’t need to ask Charlie or even go to your class and pester the trainer about the old spa. I know why the pool was filled in.’
‘How did you find out?’
Jeanette tapped the side of her nose. ‘I have my ways.’
‘Come on, tell me.’
‘There was an accident in the old pool. A woman drowned.’
‘Why did they fill it in?’
‘According to Fiona, the Bishtons paid out a large amount of compensation to the husband of the woman, Harriet Worth, who also wanted the pool filled in as part of the settlement.’
He pursed his lips, impressed by his wife’s findings. ‘Very interesting. That’s one mystery solved. Now I only need to track down Mr Woźniak and see whether he really hated Miles Ashbrook enough to kill him.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ Jeanette smiled.
‘Thank you. You have saved me wasting time on that particular puzzle.’ He put his hands together and bowed dramatically and kissed her hand. ‘I shall now look forward to mastering the techniques necessary for mata leon – the lion killer – or for a sliding choke hold, which might be useful for when clients refuse to pay me.’
‘I meant, aren’t you forgetting to hand over your credit card so I can buy some champagne for my new friend?’
Twenty-Seven
Robyn threw down the newspaper and rubbed the back of her neck. The photograph of Linda Upton’s face stared up at her.
‘Bloody Amy Walters. What’s she playing at? This is an ongoing investigation.’
Matt, the only other person in the office, picked up the paper and read:
Villagers in Kings Bromley were devastated to learn of the murder of a well-respected resident and mother, Linda Upton (34). Full details have not yet been disclosed, but one resident said, ‘Everyone here feels nervous now. It’s scary knowing someone could be watching you, hunting you down.’
Mrs Upton’s murder is the second in the locality in less than two weeks. Manager and barman Rory Wallis was found dead at the Happy Pig in Lichfield last Friday. Suzy Clarke, barmaid at the Happy Pig, told the Lichfield Times: ‘I can’t go back there. I keep imagining someone is watching me, waiting to pounce on me like a big cat when I go through the door. I’ve had terrible nightmares since it happened.’
Until more information is r
eleased, residents are going to continue to worry that they too might come under attack from the killer who is being called the Lichfield Leopard.
Matt put the paper down and shrugged. ‘That’s sensationalist nonsense.’
Robyn continued to rub the back of her neck. ‘And that’s what sells papers.’
Matt sneered. ‘Someone needs to gag Amy Walters before she ruins things. Want me to deal with her?’
‘I’ll sort it, thanks. I’ll tell her to wait until we have something to say and to stop stirring. This is not what we need. The Lichfield Leopard. I could bloody strangle the woman.’ Robyn cricked her neck side to side but she couldn’t shift the tension in her muscles.
Matt read the article again. ‘If it’s any consolation, she hasn’t made the front page with it.’
Robyn huffed noisily and stood in front of a whiteboard on which were pinned photographs of Rory Wallis and Linda Upton. She wrote a name beside Linda’s photograph. Everyone knew that she preferred to write in black marker pen rather than give PowerPoint presentations. She felt it helped if you could see links in black and white.
‘Can I run some thoughts past you?’
Matt put his work to one side. ‘Sure. Go ahead, guv.’
Robyn indicated the name she had written. ‘Robert Upton was married to Linda. He was on the way back from Dubai at the time of Linda’s death, so he’s not a suspect. I spoke to him and to his mother and have no reason to believe he is involved in any way in Linda’s murder. With him ruled out, I don’t know where to look next.’ She tapped the board with the end of her pen. ‘We have a seemingly ordinary, contented family who have no debts, no hidden secrets we can uncover and no enemies that we know of. All of this leaves us with the question of who? Who would want Linda dead?’
‘A disgruntled lover?’
‘Again, there is no evidence at all to suggest Linda was having an affair. Nothing has been flagged up on phone records or emails. She was a contented housewife who had a small circle of female friends and spent most of her time with her son and husband.’ She pointed at the photograph of Rory Wallis.
‘And then there’s Rory Wallis, who was, by all accounts, someone who kept himself to himself, had no girlfriend or partner and few friends. We have turned up absolutely nothing from our enquiries. He worked, played video games and rarely socialised. And he was teetotal, which is ironic given he worked in a bar. There is nothing peculiar about either of these people.’
She drew a line between the photographs and wrote the words ‘Bromley Hall’. ‘This is the sole thing we have to connect these people. Remind me, Matt, when was Rory at the Hall?’
‘From when it opened in 2008 until 2013. He was bar manager at what they called the Champagne Bar.’
She waved her pen, and under Bromley Hall wrote the name Harriet Worth.
‘Now I’m going to begin speculating. This lady was Linda Upton’s friend. Harriet died during a spa weekend at Bromley Hall after drinking too much, falling in the pool and drowning.’
‘Then they’re both linked to the place in some way. What else connects the pair of them?’
‘I can’t think of anything else. We’ve been through everything and there isn’t any other connection apart from one – they might both have been at the Hall the night Harriet Worth died in July 2012, and she might have met Rory Wallis at the Champagne Bar. I’d need his work schedule to confirm that he was on duty that night. I just want to be certain I’m barking up the right tree before I say anything to Mulholland.’ She paced in front of the board and spoke again. ‘What if somebody is now seeking revenge for the death of Harriet Worth? What if that someone believed others were to blame for her death, and by others I mean Linda Upton, who went to the spa with her friend, and Rory Wallis who may or may not have served her alcohol the night she died? Does that sound too far-fetched?’
Matt shook his head. ‘No, it doesn’t. It sounds logical, especially as there were invoices on both bodies for £250,000 pounds each.’
‘My thought exactly, Matt. It smacks of somebody seeking payment for her death. I could be wrong, and the invoices might relate to something else altogether, but for the moment, it fits. However, what I can’t get to fit is Miles Ashbrook. We have three deaths, all somehow connected to Bromley Hall, and I’m unable to establish a link between these two deaths and Miles Ashbrook. He wasn’t at the Hall when Harriet Worth drowned, and there was no invoice on or near his body.’
Matt pulled a hand through his hair. ‘The invoice might have shrivelled up in the heat of the sauna, although that’s unlikely. If you want my opinion, I think Miles Ashbrook died of natural causes, and if there’s no invoice, the cases are probably unrelated.’
‘Again, I hear you, and still I can’t shake the feeling they’re related in some way.’
‘I’d stick with what we have and hope something comes to light that confirms your suspicions. You’ll only wind people up if you try to bring up the Miles Ashbrook case again, and you’ll get Shearer baying for your dismissal.’
Robyn sighed. ‘You’re right, I suppose.’
Matt cocked his head to one side. ‘What if Harriet Worth’s husband has suddenly decided he wants revenge? Maybe the money is no longer enough and he wants blood? Okay, that’s a long shot,’ he said, noting the surprised look on his superior’s face.
With her lips pressed together, Robyn turned over this new idea in her mind. ‘No, it’s worth considering. You know me. I’ll act on any leads or hunches. Can you drag up the Harriet Worth case for me and email me details? I want to know what happened that night and how much compensation her husband received. I’ll see if Mr Worth is at home and surprise him with a visit. Send the information over as soon as you’ve got it. By the way, you don’t know where Mitz is, do you?’
‘Anna was joining him at the bus depot. They’re trying to track down the guy at the bus stop in Kings Bromley.’
‘Get him to call me if he has anything, and if Mulholland wants me, tell her I’m out chasing a hot lead, and that we’ve made progress. I need to keep her off my back for as long as possible.’
Matt grinned. ‘I’ll keep her sweet.’
The bus station was filled with schoolchildren and shoppers waiting to go home. Anna wasn’t keen on crowds at the best of times, and the older, cockier kids were getting on her nerves with their loud music bursting from iPhones and their fake cries as they jostled and punched each other before yelling, ‘Help, police! My mate pushed me.’
She was glad when the bus she was waiting for pulled in and a uniformed man in his sixties emerged, bag over his shoulder. His shoulders were slumped, the top button on his shirt undone and he walked like a man who wanted nothing more than to go home and put his feet up. Anna sympathised with him. She’d been working almost non-stop for several days and could do with time off too. She was also concerned about her colleague Sergeant Mitz. He had left her and rushed off home to his parents’ house, where he also lived. ‘It’s my gran,’ was all he had said. Anna knew how important family was to Mitz; he had spoken frequently about his wonderful granny, who gave all her money to charities and people who she felt were worse off than her. Anna had met her only a couple of weeks earlier when she went to collect Mitz, and had fallen for the old lady’s charm.
The bus driver ushered her to a room behind the bus station with grubby whitewashed walls. There were several notices for staff on display, and a table and five plastic chairs. ‘It’s quieter in here. Call me Bill.’ He dropped his bag down on the floor.
‘We’re looking for a man wearing a blue jacket and jeans who we believe boarded the Lichfield bus at Kings Bromley yesterday morning at ten fifteen.’
‘Unshaven bloke who looked like he was on something? I remember him. He just about managed to grunt at me. People these days can’t be bothered with anyone, can they? There was a time when I used to say good morning to everyone who boarded my bus. Nowadays, they glower at me or ignore me altogether, and I haven’t the heart to engage them in
chit-chat. Some of the elderly people are still polite. I prefer that particular village route because I often get the older locals on board, especially on market days. They can be quite chatty.’
Anna felt a frisson of excitement rising in her chest. She had been right to explore this avenue of enquiry. ‘I expect you know where he got off.’
Bill gave her a grin. He had a front tooth missing, which made him all the more endearing.
‘Indeed, young lady, I do. He got off just up the road at the marina. There isn’t a bus stop there but he asked me to let him off. I’m not supposed to drop people off willy-nilly. There was no one else on board that day, so I did. It’s a long walk to the marina from Kings Bromley, and part of me felt a bit sorry for the guy. He seemed really downhearted. I can’t tell you much more than that. The bloke jumped on board, sat in the front seat, took a phone call and pointed to where he wanted dropping off. He managed to say thanks.’
The euphoria Anna had just experienced disappeared quickly. The marina was vast and it would take a lot of manpower to track down the man.
‘If it’s any help, I think he’s called Peter,’ continued Bill. ‘His phone rang and he answered it with, “Yes, this is Peter…” I didn’t catch his surname. I only picked up on it because my grandson is called Peter. Do you want me to come to the police station and identify anyone for you? I’m good with faces.’
His enthusiasm to assist was refreshing and his shoulders slumped in disappointment when she told him that wouldn’t yet be necessary. As soon as she left the bus station she dialled Robyn’s number, stopping before she pressed the call button. She didn’t have very much to tell her boss. It would be better if she tried the marina first and tried to locate the man. That would show initiative. She’d ask about and find out where this Peter lived before calling for back-up.
