Joe smiled triumphantly at Melanie. “Now who’s having the last laugh?” Before she could respond, he turned on Carlin. “What did you put in Sheila’s drink, and Kendrew’s, to make them so sick?”
“A few drops of gun oil. Not enough to notice, but enough to make them puke.” Carlin smiled viciously. “I’m the responsible person under the Health and Safety at Work Act. I have to ensure our prop guns are in good working order, so I always carry oil with me.”
“To what purpose?” Grant asked.
“Murray and his harem,” Melanie said. “It’s not just his reputation which goes before him, but theirs too. I could take care of him, but Gerry was busy with Wendy, so he couldn’t work on those two bags. We just gave them something else to think about. And when it came to Kendrew, we were disorientating him, nothing more. And it worked. By Sunday morning, he didn’t know his arse from his elbow. But we’d always intended to nail him. Wendy had been complaining to Gerry about him for long enough.”
“I’ll tell what I don’t understand,” Sergeant Idleman said. “How could you be so sure that Kendrew would find the gun?”
“We weren’t.” Carlin admitted. “But I made sure Kendrew saw me wander off to the right of the hotel, and I was outside later, earwigging when Kendrew was there with his wife. If Kendrew hadn’t rumbled what I was up to, I would have tipped them the wink on how they could win a bottle of champagne. Course, I’d have been doing it because I felt sorry for them.” He laughed.
Her anger increasing, the sergeant looked to her boss and he nodded.
“Gerald Carlin, Melanie Markham, I am arresting you both on suspicion of murder, conspiracy to commit murder and conspiracy to pervert the course of justice. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you fail to mention when questioned something which you intend to rely on in court. Anything you say may be given in evidence.”
Chapter Nineteen
With the time approaching noon, and transport for all the guests now parked outside the Twin Spires, Melanie Markham and Gerry Carlin had been taken off to the police station, and Grant and Idleman joined Joe, Sheila and Brenda in the Scampton Room, where they reported that both suspects had made full confessions.
“In many ways, Kendrew is as big a victim as Reggie and Naomi, but he was the architect of his own downfall,” Grant said. “If he hadn’t gone out of his way to persuade everyone that he hated Naomi, we may have cornered the other two that much quicker.”
Joe shook his head sadly. “What a berk. I don’t know how his life will turn out, but it should be hell all the way. He deserves it.”
“What a pair of swine,” Sheila cursed. “Carlin and Melanie, I mean, not Kendrew and Naomi. Fancy spiking my drink like that.”
“It says something for the amount of booze these two had gone through that she never noticed,” Joe said.
“We didn’t have that much,” Brenda denied.
“No? I just settled our bar bill. It reminded me of the national debt.”
The police officers made ready to leave. Grant offered his hand, Joe shook it.
“Thanks for everything, Joe.”
“No problem. Next time you’re in Sanford, call into my place and you can enjoy one of my legendary steak and kidney pies.” He looked Idleman up and down. “You too, Sergeant. You look like you need feeding up.”
She patted her flat tummy. “Thank you, Mr Murray, but I’ll work out my own diet if you don’t mind.”
***
A watery sun showed through thin cloud when Joe stood by the Sanford 3rd Age Club coach checking the members and the luggage aboard. The patch of blue sky Joe had seen earlier was gradually drawing nearer. Nearby, the Markham Murder Mysteries cast were reloading their van, and further over, the Grimshaw Kitchens party was boarding the minibus.
Checking Les Tanner and Sylvia Goodson aboard, Joe was distracted by Billy Norman. He passed his clipboard to Sheila.
“It’s been an, er, interesting weekend, Joe,” Billy said.
“Extenuating circumstances aside, it’s been a fun weekend,” he agreed.
“But we’re without a producer, director and leading man, now. You were pretty good delivering the summary.”
“I’m sure you’ll find suitable replacements.” Joe grinned savagely. “But don’t look at me. Racking up the pies is my thing, not acting the fool in hotels.”
Billy offered his hand and as he shook it, he said, “Our lawyers will be in touch about the rights to your cases, and I’m sure our paths will cross again someday.”
“Let’s hope it’s in more pleasant circumstances.” Joe released the hand, and with a final wave, Billy moved off to join his colleagues.
“Ships that pass in the night, eh, Joe?” Sheila commented.
“More like a tramp steamer, that Melanie,” Brenda noted.
Joe grunted. “One of these days, Brenda, I’ll take you up on your offer and give you a night to remember. A night with a real man.”
“Ooh. You’re going to fix me up with Daniel Craig?”
“Here’s another pair of ships,” Sheila said. “A pair adrift, this time.”
Joe followed her gaze to the entrance where Fliss and Robbie Kendrew had just emerged.
He gazed sourly at Joe, then reluctantly offered his hand. “Thanks, Murray.”
Joe kept his voice equally ambivalent. “You’re welcome.”
“You’d better get on the bus, Robbie,” Fliss insisted, and Joe noted her more commanding tones.
They both watched him wander off to join his colleagues.
“He’s told me everything,” Fliss said.
“And you’re kicking him out?” Joe asked. “Because that’s what he deserves.”
She sighed. “I know. But I love him, Mr Murray. I can’t help that. However, I’ve laid the law down. I haven’t decided whether we’re going on or not, but I will be the one making that decision, and if he wants me, he’s going to have to work bloody hard to get me. If he doesn’t, if he’s still pining after his tart, Naomi, then he can pack his bags and get out.”
Joe gave her a lopsided smile. “You stick to your guns, lass. If I’d had a wife like you, I might still be married to her.”
She stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for everything.”
“You take care now.”
With a final wave, Fliss strode across to the Grimshaw Kitchens minibus and then Wendy approached.
She, too, shook hands. “Thank you, Mr Murray.”
“No problem, Wendy. And my condolences on your loss.”
“No need,” she told him. “I’m under no illusions about Reggie, so let’s not kid ourselves. Whatever spark there was to our marriage died out years ago, and I’m well rid of him. I feel sorry for Ms Barton, but she, too, deserved what she got. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh. You, however, ensured that justice will be done.” She kissed him on the cheek, and wandered away to join her party.
“You’re scoring with ’em all this weekend, Joe,” Brenda said.
“Yeah, well, some of us have it.”
“In that case, make sure you don’t give it to anyone else.” Brenda said.
Sheila handed him the clipboard, and mock saluted. “All aboard, Cap’n, and we’re ready to rock and roll.”
His companions boarded the bus, and with a final glance at the twin towers of Lincoln Minster, Joe, too, climbed on.
“I wonder if this city sees me as the Lord’s avenging angel?” he asked as he took the jump seat alongside Keith.
Sheila smiled mischievously. “Given your lack of height, Joe, I’d say you were more like the Lincoln Imp.”
Brenda laughed. “You certainly put a twist in Melanie Markham’s spire.”
THE END
Thanks for reading this Sanford Third Age Collection title.
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Mystery Weekend
Murder at the Murder Mystery Weekend Page 27
