Ena looked through the next window and the next along the path leading to the back garden. Every piece of furniture in each darkened room was shrouded in sheets. Only the kitchen looked as if it was being used. Ena put her hand up to shade her eyes from the sun’s reflection on the glass and pressed her face against the window. There was a cooker and a sink on the right. She looked across the room to a table and then recoiled in horror. A boy tied to a wheelchair was looking back at her. Ena’s heart began to race and she stumbled backwards.
Seeing the boy alone in his wheelchair in the sparsely furnished kitchen had given her a shock. He must be Mrs Thornton’s grandson, Andrea’s brother. What kind of person does that to her brother? Ena took several calming breaths, braced herself and looked through the window again. She gasped with horror. The boy had a makeshift gag of white cloth in his mouth. He stared at Ena wide-eyed and began shaking his head and rocking the wheelchair from side to side. From the little she could see of the boy’s face he looked terrified. Clearly he was in distress. She needed to help him, but to do that would mean breaking in.
Ena put her elbow against the bottom pane of glass in the kitchen door, brought it forward and thrust it back sharply. She heard a crack but the glass hadn’t broken. She elbowed the pane again, this time there was a crash and not only the glass but the wood moulding holding it in place splintered. Ena knocked wood and several shards of glass out of the door frame, put her hand inside and unlocked the door.
As she entered the kitchen, she felt a severe drop in temperature. It was a sunny day, hot outside, but the kitchen was cold. The boy was shivering. His feet were bare and his thin cotton shirt and slacks were stained with food. As she approached him the acrid smell of stale urine filled her nostrils.
Ena reached out to him. He flinched, his eyes flashed with fear, as a wild animal’s might when trapped. Shaking his head from side to side, he tried to speak but his words were inaudible beneath the cloth in his mouth. ‘My name’s Ena. I know your grandmother,’ she said reassuringly, but the boy kept rocking from side to side. ‘Don’t be frightened, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m going to get you out of here.’
Moving quickly to the back of the wheelchair Ena untied the knot in the makeshift gag, pulled it from the boy’s mouth and he screamed, ‘No!’
That was the last word Ena heard before waking up with a splitting headache, tied to a kitchen chair next to the boy. She looked at him. Staring into the mid-distance, his eyes dull and full of tears, he looked defeated.
‘I’m sorry,’ Ena whispered, ‘I should have looked to see if your sister was here before—’
‘Shut up!’ Andrea shouted from behind her. She walked around the table, made a fist and slammed it down hard, making Ena jump. In her other hand she clutched a knife, and pointed the blade at Ena.
Ena swallowed hard. She needed to get Andrea talking and keep her talking to stop her from using the knife. ‘I don’t think you wanted to hurt me,’ she said, as calmly as she was able. ‘Hurting me would make things worse for you.’
‘I said, ‘Shut up!’ Andrea walked around the table again. Ena could feel her eyes burning into the back of her head. ‘My associate knows I’m here, Andrea,’ she said, observing her out of the corner of her eye. ‘The nurse who takes care of your grandmother knows I’m here too. She was going to give the Police this address as soon as I left the nursing home.’ Ena’s heart was beating ten-to-the-dozen and the pulse at her temples began to throb. ‘If you make a run for it now, you’ve got a good chance of getting away. Stay here and you’re bound to be caught. By my reckoning, the Police will be here any minute.’
Andrea stopped walking when she got to the front of the table. She leaned on it, sliding her elbows forward until the top half of her body was on the table and her face was level with Ena’s. ‘You’re lying,’ she said, pressing the knife against Ena’s throat. ‘No one knows I’m at dear old Granny’s house. I told the old bitch at the nursing home the house had been sold and Granny was going to live with me when she got out of the old folks’ home.’
Andrea pressed the tip of the blade into the muscle on the side of Ena’s neck beneath her ear. She felt a sharp pain and then warm blood trickled down her neck. ‘No one will come looking for you here.’
‘Yes, they will!’ Artie shouted, throwing a sheet over Andrea’s head. She fell to the floor and Artie fell on top of her. Holding her arms tightly beneath the sheet, Artie made every effort to tie a silk curtain tieback around her. The tieback was thick and shiny, the fabric slipped and Andrea began to struggle free. ‘Keep still,’ Artie shouted, but like a wild cat Andrea twisted and turned, lashed out at Artie and began to sit up. ‘I didn’t want to do this,’ Artie said, punching Andrea beneath the sheet. As she fell back groaning, Artie tied her arms against her body. What was left of the tieback he knotted round her ankles.
With Andrea trussed up like a turkey, Artie untied Ena and then the boy.
‘Water, please,’ the boy wheezed. Artie went to the sink, took a glass from the cupboard above, filled it and gave it to the boy. He gulped the water down and choked. Artie took the glass from him, patted his back, and held the glass for the boy to take several more sips. He exhaled loudly when he’d had enough and whispered, ‘Thank you.’
‘Listen!’ Artie laughed. ‘I never thought I’d be happy to hear the wailing sirens of Police cars.’
‘You’re safe now,’ Ena said to the boy.
The Police sirens grew louder, the cars arrived, and a dozen policemen, truncheons raised, burst into the house via the front door. Inspector Reed followed the uniformed men in and behind him were two women constables. The WPCs pulled Andrea to her feet, untied her and took off the sheet. Ena looked at Artie and raised her eyes. Andrea had a bright red mark on her chin and her face was beginning to swell.
As the WPCs took Andrea away, Artie turned to Ena and whispered, ‘Whoops!’
‘She must have bumped her face when she fell,’ Ena said.
The inspector looked from Artie to Ena. ‘So, Mrs Green, this is the work you were so eager to get back to London to do?’
‘I didn’t actually say London, Inspector.’
The conversation between Ena and the inspector was interrupted when two ambulance men arrived. One asked her if she was alright. She said she was. The other asked the boy his name, something Ena hadn’t thought to do, but now wished she had. He answered in a tired voice, ‘Rory.’
The ambulance man asked him about his health, the reason he was in a wheelchair and other questions which Ena didn’t hear because the second medic was asking her questions, which she answered quickly and succinctly. He looked at her head and said she should go to the hospital. Ena had no intention of going to hospital. She was more interested in what was going to happen to Rory and ignored the medic.
‘Thank you,’ Rory said, as he drew level with Ena. She forced back her tears and the emotion she felt for the boy and smiled. ‘Is my Gran alright?’ he asked.
‘Yes. She’s fine.’ Ena turned to the man pushing Rory. ‘Which hospital are you taking him to?’
‘St. Marks.’
‘I’ll let your grandmother know where you’ll be.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, again. The first medic pushed him to the back door where a St. John’s Ambulance nurse was waiting. She lifted the undercarriage of the wheelchair and the chair cleared the step. As the first medic pushed Rory towards the ambulance, the second one turned to Ena.
‘I’ll get a chair. Miss.’
‘There’s no need. I’m fine. I don’t need a chair and I’m not going to the hospital.’
‘You’ve had a whack on the head, you ought to get it checked out,’ Artie said.
‘My head hardly hurts and I’m not seeing double. If I feel at all unwell later, I’ll go to my local outpatients.’
The medic looked at Artie. ‘Sir?’
‘I’m not hurt at all. And,’ said Artie glaring at Ena, ‘I’ll drive her home and stay with her until h
er husband gets back from work.’
‘If she shows any signs of nausea, dizziness, memory loss…’
‘I’ll take her straight to the hospital.’
The medic nodded and turned to leave, but Ena called him back. ‘The boy, Rory, he will be alright, won’t he?’
‘We won’t know until the doctors have seen him. He’s dehydrated, looks as if he needs a few good meals, but he’s young. Kids of that age bounce back. There’s obviously a reason why he’s in a wheelchair, but if he has no other underlying health problems, he should be fine.’
‘Thanks, I’d like to give his grandmother some positive news. Oh, and what will happen to him when he’s released from hospital, where will he go?’
‘I don’t know, Miss. It’ll be up to the hospital and the welfare people.’
‘Thank you. Sorry to hold you up. Come on,’ Ena said to Artie when the medic left, ‘let’s get out of here.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
‘You’re not driving!’ Artie said, taking the keys to the Morris from Ena. ‘I’m taking you home. I’ll come back for the nurse’s car later.’
‘When Henry gets home? I don’t think so. He’ll be hours yet. He may not come home at all tonight. No,’ Ena said, ‘take me to The Willows in Jeanie’s car. She was good enough to lend it to me, it isn’t fair to keep her waiting. You can come back for the Sunbeam when you’ve dropped me off.’
Artie opened his mouth to argue but gave in. ‘Okay, at least if you’re at the nursing home and you feel ill, there’ll be people there to look after you.’ Artie took Ena by the arm. At the beginning of the short drive, Ena and Artie saw Inspector Reed running up the steps at the front of the house. When he saw them, he stopped, put up his hand and jogged back to meet them. ‘Someone will telephone,’ he said to Ena, ‘to arrange for you and Mr Mallory to come down to the station and give a statement.’
‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure!’ Artie looked at Ena. ‘She’d have killed Ena if I hadn’t stopped her,’ he said, nodding at Ena, his eyes widening.
Ena suddenly fell into what Artie wanted her to say. ‘That’s right,’ she said, ‘the girl caught me off guard, hit me on the back of the head and knocked me out. Thank God Artie arrived when he did. She had tied me to a chair and was about to cut my throat when he intervened.’ Ena pushed her hair away from her neck and turned sideways to let the inspector see the wound on her neck.
The inspector leaned forward and scrutinised the wound. ‘Did it bleed?’ he said with a twinkle in his eye.
‘Yes!’ Ena and Artie said in unison.
‘I pressed my hanky on it.’ Ena dug into her pocket and produced the bloody handkerchief.’ With as much emotion in her voice as she could muster, she said, ‘God knows what she’d have done if Artie hadn’t got her off me.’
‘With considerable force, by the look of the bruise on Miss Thornton’s chin.’
Ena, with a bemused look, said, ‘Bruise? Oh, that must have happened when she wriggled out of Artie’s arms. She slipped and the fell on the floor, didn’t she, Artie?’
‘Yes,’ Artie nodded, ‘that’s when she must have bruised herself, Inspector.’
Inspector Reed looked from Artie to Ena. ‘If you say so.’
‘I forgot you decked her,’ Ena said when the inspector was out of earshot.
***
Artie dropped Ena off at the front of The Willows, parked the Morris and walked back to the front door.
Ena and Jeanie were on the way to the staff room. ‘Jeanie is going to make a pot of tea. I bet you could do with a cup?’
Artie declined the offer. ‘I want to collect your car and get you home,’ he said, giving Jeanie her car keys. He took the keys to the Sunbeam from his trouser pocket, threw them in the air and caught them. ‘Look after her, Nurse McKinlay,’ he said and left.
‘That’s a nasty cut on your neck, Ena.’
‘It might have been a whole lot worse. Mrs Thornton’s granddaughter had her brother gagged and tied to his wheelchair. I went into the house, and as I was taking off the gag she hit me from behind. When I came round, I found myself tied up too. She was about to make this cut a gash when Artie threw a sheet over her and wrestled her to the ground.’
‘She has serious problems, that’s for sure.’ Jeanie looked more closely at Ena’s neck and exhaled loudly. ‘She could have done a lot of damage if she hadn’t been stopped. The cut is close to an artery. I’ll clean it up and put something on it to stop it from becoming infected.’
‘It’s not that bad, is it?’ Ena asked, unable to hide the panic in her voice.
Jeanie rolled her eyes. ‘I bet you don’t go to the doctor unless you really have to, do you?’
‘No, I don’t. The place is full of sick people. I’d likely catch something in the waiting room.’
Jeanie laughed. ‘Well, you won’t catch anything here. If any of the staff has as much as a cough, they’re sent home. Most of our patients are vulnerable, some are susceptible to catching the slightest thing. The home has to be kept sterile.’
‘Like Mrs Sharp.’
Jeanie laughed again. She pushed open the staff room door for Ena to enter first and then followed her in.
‘Take a seat.’ Jeanie went to the cupboard and took down the First Aid kit. ‘This might sting a little.’
‘That’s what they all say. Ouch!’
‘Almost done,’ Jeanie said, dabbing Ena’s neck with what smelled like a strong astringent. There, the cut is clean now. I’m just going to put a dab of Germoline on it.’
‘I hate the smell of antiseptic creams.’
‘It will soon wear off.’ When she had applied a plaster to Ena’s neck, Jeanie washed her hands, dried them and flicked on the kettle. While it boiled, she spooned tea into the pot and when the tea was made, joined Ena at the table. ‘Mrs Thornton is in St. Jude’s. She hadn’t ingested anything harmful, so they’re sending her back here tomorrow. We’ll only be able to keep her here for few days, a week at most, then she’ll have to go home. As I told you, she is quite capable of looking after herself.’
‘More so now her granddaughter is in custody. But she may not be able to look after her grandson,’ Ena said, ‘not a young man in a wheelchair. What’s going to happen to him?’
‘I have some holiday due, I’ll take it and call on Mrs Thornton for the first few days she’s home. If nothing else, I can take her to the hospital to visit her grandson. When he comes out, I’ll help her sort something out.’
Artie poked his head around the door. ‘Excuse me, Nurse, but I think it’s time I took this one home,’ he said to Jeanie. Then, turning to Ena, ‘What time does Henry get back from work?’
‘How long is a piece of string?’ she said getting to her feet. ‘Thank you for lending me your car, Jeanie, and for patching me up. Stay in touch, will you?’
Jeanie promised she would and said, ‘I’ll let you know how Mrs Thornton and her grandson get on, if you promise you’ll go to the nearest hospital if you begin to feel unwell.’
Ena promised and Jeanie saw her and Artie out of the nursing home. Before she got in the car, Ena looked across the tarmacked drive to the front door to wave goodbye. Jeanie wasn’t there. She had no doubt already returned to her duties.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
‘Here you are, strong and sweet,’ Artie said, placing Ena’s tea in front of her. She turned her nose up at it. ‘It’s good for shock, so get it down you.’
‘I had two cups with Jeanie at The Willows. Can’t I have a scotch?’ Artie looked to the heavens. ‘I’ll be swimming in bloody tea soon,’ she mumbled and took a sip. ‘I hate sugar in tea, but thanks. And thank you for going back for the Sunbeam. God knows what I’d do without you.’ Ena was grateful to Artie and very pleased to be home.
‘Telephone your pal at Durden Cameras and ask him if he’s developed the photographs of Mantel and Horton?’
‘I only took the film in yesterday.’
‘I know, but the quic
ker I can get them to Inspector Powell, the sooner he’ll send someone to watch Horton’s house.’ Artie went to the telephone. ‘If he hasn’t developed them yet, tell him you’ll give him a fiver to do them today. I need those photographs.’
While Artie spoke to his friend at Durden Cameras, Ena took a bottle of Teacher’s Whisky from the sideboard cupboard and poured a measure into her tea. ‘Want some?’ she asked, pushing the bottle towards Artie when he had finished the call.
‘Thanks. He’s developing them now,’ Artie said, adding a capful of whisky to his tea. ‘I’ll pick them up on the way to work tomorrow morning. You know they’re likely to incriminate Horton, not exonerate him.’
‘I saw Horton give the money back to Mantel and walk away.’
‘Yes, but he had Mantel’s money in the café when I was taking photographs.’
Ena reached for her handbag at the side of the settee, opened it and produced the money Mantel had given to Horton. ‘He doesn’t want Mantel’s money.’
‘Okay! Let’s thrash this out and see what we come up with.’
‘Horton told me when I followed him to the Tavern at Smithfields that he wasn’t involved in transporting the Hogarth paintings from The Savoy to the gallery so he couldn’t have had anything to do with the painting that went missing. And, secondly, he doesn’t want anything to do with Mantel.’
‘But he works for Mantel?’
‘No, Horton works for Giselle Aubrey. Mantel is her sponsor, and he’s blackmailing him.’ Ena took a drink of her tea. ‘I’d bet my last penny that the four Hogarths going to auction are forgeries and the real paintings are winging their way to France or Germany. And I don’t think they’d have been the first to be replaced either.’
Old Cases New Colours (A Dudley Green Investigation) (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 9) Page 20
