Bromington Heights Page 7

  ~

  Rosie was in place covering the allotment. Anna was in place along the riverbank. They were both hidden, sporting strong binoculars, borrowed from Matt.

  The mobile signals were good, and Amy was parked behind a bush, just giving her a good view of the Winston’s cottage. As soon as she saw Albert leave the house with his wheelbarrow and head up the lane, she knew he was heading for the allotment. On fishing days, he headed with his rod in the other direction.

  She sent a text to Rosie. ‘It looks like he’s headed your way. It’s a good fifteen-minute walk. I’m going in!’

  Amy was completely up for the task ahead. She drove along the lane and left her van outside. There was no way he would come back until she had gone. She went around the side of the house first, heading for the shed where she began taking photos. There were a few plastic bottles with abbreviated labels containing different colour liquids. Some plants on a shelf in a dark corner caught her attention. She’d never had reason to go inside the smelly shed before, it felt creepy. Her heart was banging loud in her chest because she’d have no explanation of why she was in there if he came back. Using her flash for light, she took pictures of everything as well as the plants at the bottom of the garden.

  Next, she let herself in through the front door. At least she had valid reason to be in most of the house. “Good morning, Gladys,” she called out before popping her head into the front room. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

  “Yes, please dear, and maybe a slice of toast to settle my stomach.” Gladys actually did look pale and her stomach grumbled aloud.

  “I’m going to get you a house call after surgery this morning, you haven’t had much colour for days, let the doctor have a look at you.” Amy was very worried for her.

  “I think that’s a good idea. Will you tell him where the key is and to let himself in?”

  “Yes, I will, don’t worry. I’ll be back in a minute.” The TV was on, far too loud. Albie either did that or left the remote out of reach. He was a nasty man to the core. Amy switched the kettle on and rushed upstairs. She checked under the mattress, in drawers, in the wardrobe and then run her hand over the top. It was thick with dust, unlike the rest of the house which Amy kept clean. Halfway back was a box. Amy lifted it down and tipped the papers on the bed. She didn’t have time to read any of it, there was writing on both sides of every sheet. She took photos and then carefully put it all back.

  She removed her cleaning gloves, there was no way she had touched anything of his or left her prints on anything belonging to Albert Winston. Actually, she had a better idea this morning, if she could get Gladys seen, she would take her to the doctors herself and then take her out for breakfast. If she left the woman here alone, knowing what she did now, she couldn’t live with herself if anything happened to her.

  “Here’s your tea, dear. Just have a piece of dry toast.” The bread packet hadn’t been opened, so with a bit of luck it wasn’t contaminated. “Let me try that doctor’s surgery for you.” Amy stepped outside and walked back to her van.

  “Yes, it’s very urgent. I think she may have been poisoned and possibly due to the large amounts of rhubarb her husband has cooked her every day, it wouldn’t do any harm to run some tests. In fact, his kitchen habits leave a lot to be desired. Since Gladys has become poorly so fast, I’ve had a look around. I’ve just noticed open raw chicken next to cooked ham in the fridge.”

  Amy didn’t have to say another word. Gladys was booked in as an emergency. Thank goodness the doctor lived at the surgery, as did his wife, the local nurse. There were no regular hours in these parts. If you were ill on a Sunday, a bank holiday Monday, or after hours it mattered not. The married medical team worked as they were needed and the locals didn’t bother them unless they had to, the system had worked well for the last thirty years. Nobody had to scrabble to be seen. Which meant Gladys was able to be seen straight away this morning.

  For the most part the locals were a healthy bunch. All the sea air, fresh fish and home-grown vegetables kept them in good shape. There were many octogenarians in these parts.

  “Come on, Gladys, where’s your bag and anything else you might need? I’ve got you a priority appointment and I will take you to the doctor myself.” Before the old lady had any chance to reply, they were on their way. As she slowly trundled along on her scooter, Amy walked beside her. Not before she hung the three bags of rhubarb on the handle. She intended to come back for the van afterwards.

  As she walked, Amy sent a text to both Rosie and Anna. I’m going to the doctors with Amy- have all the photos- leave your posts and go back to the B & B. I will send them as soon as I can.

  Albert hadn’t intended staying at the allotment at all, just long enough to be seen by a couple of people. He left his wheelbarrow on his plot and slipped out through the back hedge. He was making his way to Bromington Heights. The man wanted to see how the land lay. He needed to form a plan of some sort. Rosie was hot on his trail. She was keeping her distance, darting behind bushes and trees along the way. Later that day she intended to come back with Anna and take a few photos of whatever he was growing on his section of the allotment. Or possibly record a short video.

  Rosie rang Anna. “You’re much closer to the B & B than I am. Can you get your car and head towards Bromington Heights? I’ll keep my eye out for you. I’m following Albert and it looks like that’s where he’s heading.”

  “Didn’t he go to the allotment?”

  “Yes. Just to dump his wheelbarrow. If you’re quick we can get to Bromington Heights before him and see what he’s up to.”

  “I’ll be with you in under ten minutes,” Anna sounded breathless, no doubt she was running.

  Rosie felt like a proper spy now, this was all very cloak and dagger. Within a few minutes she would be on the main road and Anna would collect her. No doubt, Albert would cross over and then cut through the fields. She guessed correctly, this is what he did, and she kept watch through the binoculars until Anna pulled up in her faithful car.

  “Jump in, we’ll go around the back road. There are trees there for us to stay hidden. We can zoom in on my ipad and video him. There’s no reason at all for him to be going to Bromington Heights. It’s private property.” Anna raced off, not breaking the speed limit by too much.

  “Amy worked quick. Maybe once she’s got Gladys to the doctors and they’ve checked her over she can leave her there? They might have to send her to A & E for tests. Poor woman, I hope she’s okay. I’m sure she’ll be a lot safer there for the meantime. As soon as we get back, we need to get to work straight away with the images.” Although Rosie was very tempted to see if the photos were on her phone yet, there was no time. Anna was just screeching to a halt in the wooded area behind Bromington Heights.

  “Oh, by the way, Rosie, I missed a call late last night. They didn’t leave a message. It was from that number in Matilda’s letter.”

  “I forgot to tell you, don’t answer any calls. Matt’s looking into it today. I had a feeling there was something he wasn’t telling me.” Rosie was sure of that. “I told him about it yesterday and he didn’t seem at all surprised. I get the feeling, oh, I don’t know, it sounds daft. But it was very much like he was expecting it - if that makes sense.”

  “Well, he is a policeman! Maybe he reads into everything, thinks outside the box. Anyway, there’s our man. Look!”

  Rosie lifted her binoculars and zoomed in on Albert Winston. The man was edging around the outskirts of the lawned area keeping as close to the far trees as he could. “It looks like he’s heading around the back. Come on, Anna.”

  The two friends ran between the trees to position themselves at the rear of the buildings. The back gardens were surrounded with high fences and locked gates. Anna took out her ipad, made the screen as large as she could and hit record. Rosie kept the binoculars trained on the back gardens and began talking.

  “Monday morning, 5th August 2019. 10:29 a.m. I’m Rosie Wodehouse and I’m workin
g with my partner, Anna Rose, on a case concerning a potential murderer. One Albert Winston. We are on a surveillance operation this morning and have followed the suspect from the allotments to Bromington Heights. We believe his intended victim is James Sallow, following… well… following psychic information. We also believe he has intentionally attempted to harm his wife by administering poisons into her system, at this stage an abundance of rhubarb.”

  Trying hard to suppress a grin, Anna merely gave a thumbs up, not daring to interrupt her friend’s commentary.

  “An article in yesterday’s national papers revealed James Sallow as being the new owner of Bromington Heights and the general public think he is due to move in today. In fact, Mr. Sallow is at an undisclosed location under police observation and is not aware of the attempt on his life. As you can see, a man has just made his way to the back of the property and is trying to gain access, this is Albert Winston. Due to our close proximity, I will stop talking and we shall continue to film silently.”

  The two women crept closer through the trees to see exactly what Albie was doing. He made his way over to a large shed partly concealed by trees, several metres away from the rear gardens. Rosie had the better view. He peered through a glass window looking from left to right before bending down and picking up an aluminium ladder leaning against the shed. This was probably the groundsman’s tool shed. Looking all around, convinced there was no-one about, he carried the ladder to the back of the gardens. Anna recorded him climbing up and looking over the first garden furthest from them. Then he did the same in the middle garden and then the one closest to them.

  He took the ladder and went back to the middle garden. Climbing to the top, he grabbed hold of a tree and disappeared. He’d found a way in and Rosie and Anna could no longer see him.

  “Come on, Anna, hurry!” Rosie pulled her friend’s arm and they sped off towards the ladder. Anna climbed up, still recording and peeked over the fence. The garden was very elaborate, but it wasn’t easy to see their suspect. He was in there somewhere! At least the tall tree was giving her cover as well. Rosie stayed put, holding the ladder secure and keeping an eye out. If the gardener turned up, they would have some explaining to do. After recording for ten minutes, they heard the unmistakable sound of Albie coughing and muttering. Anna scuttled down the ladder and the two of them ran back towards the cover of the trees. Just in time, as Albert Winston walked around the far corner, removed the ladder and placed it back by the shed.

  How had he got out of the garden and into an adjoining one? And what did he just put in his pocket?

  “Come on, Anna. If we leave now, we can get to his allotment before he does, we have a few more pictures to take.”

  “I’ve had a thought. What better place to scroll over the photos than at the Garden Centre? I’m sure if anyone is an expert on plants it’s your dad and Derek. Besides, I need to book my car in for a service. The old gal is a little pooped at the moment!”

  Just on cue a series of pings sounded on Rosie’s phone. “That must be our ‘evidence.’” A quick glance confirmed it was. Close-ups of plants, the inside of a fridge, and several written pages. “Excellent work, Amy. Oh, she’s followed it up with a message. Gladys being admitted into hospital for further tests. Shall I meet you at the B & B?”

  Rosie replied. “No. We’ll catch up later today. Must dash as we want to go back to the allotment before Albert does, explain later.”

  A reply came back. “Okay. I’m just collecting my van. Perhaps I should go to the hospital and keep Gladys company. I will keep you posted.”

  “Great idea, Amy. You’ve been a tremendous help. Best to stay away from the Winston cottage now. It will all be closing in over the next few days.” Rosie sent the text.

  Gathering evidence

  Deadly nightshade. Giant Hogweed. Monkshood. Poison Hemlock. Foxglove. Winter cherry. Wolfsbane. Cuckoo pint. These were just some of the delights potted in Albert’s shed at the rear of his garden or growing at the edge of his allotment which was situated in a corner next to a wooded area.

  “There’s no doubt, your man has a questionable assortment of greenery. For anyone so inclined, if some of these plants were ingested, they could cause death. At the very least, skin rashes, upset stomachs, breathlessness,” Walter explained.

  Rosie nodded. “Gladys Winston has been admitted to hospital today. Very recently she’s been suffering with an upset stomach. Just look at this. An open pack of raw chicken sitting immediately on top of an open pack of sliced ham. There’s nothing else on this shelf. It’s been done deliberately.”

  Derek and Sybil sat with their mouths agape. They were all sitting in the corner of the Garden Centre café studying the photos.

  “So, this is the case you’re working on at the moment then ladies, is it?” Sybil asked.

  Anna would have replied but she was devouring a slice of lemon meringue pie. She’d run enough today to burn it off.

  “Sort of, it’s a bit complicated. We know there is a potential murder victim, who we think it’s James Sallow, but that is confidential information. We know there is a potential murderer, who we think might be Albert Winston. Dorothea isn’t very clear with her instructions.” Rosie explained.

  “Dorothea?” Derek exclaimed.

  “Oh, yes! She is working with us, and James had a premonition dream, only he doesn’t know it’s about him. We’re trying to keep him safe until Saturday, but it’s very difficult when he just goes off and then makes public announcements in the papers.”

  “Yes, I read that. Very good for the area, young Rosie,” Sybil smiled. “Why Saturday?”

  “That’s the day the murder will take place of course.”

  “Of course,” sighed Derek. He appeared very confused. “Why don’t I go and make a start on your car. Leave you all to it.”

  The ding of the bell made them all stop talking and look towards the door. A few customers walked in and Sybil stood to serve them.

  “Come on, girls. Let’s go over to my cottage. You’re going to be here for two or three hours while you’re waiting. Set yourselves up with your computer thingamajigs and I’ll take young Bear for a lovely riverside stroll.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I think he heard you. I can hear him barking from your garden now!”

  “Wow, there isn’t much room, Rosie. Looks like Mum is using the dining table for wedding stuff.”

  They found a gap between the boxes and set to work. “We don’t actually have real proof of anything, as such. Except trespass which you’ve captured wonderfully. After all, a lot of these plants grow in the hedgerows, people even plant some in their gardens without knowing the dangers. As for the fridge, well, he wouldn’t be the only person in the world who would fail a health and safety course.”

  “Agreed. So, what do the notes say, Rosie?”

  “His writing is awful. Jane has her printer here, let’s print them off and make them bigger.”

  ~

  Albert Winston arrived home just before noon. He’d collected some more rhubarb and was going to make his wife a ham and mustard sandwich. One of her favourites. He saw the open bread packet and lay the rhubarb over it, leaves touching.

  Strange, the TV was no longer on and he’d left the remote control out of her reach. The cleaner didn’t come today, did she? Her van wasn’t outside. “Gladys I’m home. Would you like some tea?” he called. No reply. Perhaps she’d gone out on that scooter of hers, only she wasn’t looking too bright this morning. He walked into the front room to find it empty.

  A red light was flashing on the answerphone. He pressed play. “This is the doctor’s surgery. Will you please ring back on, Bromington-on-sea, 545967. Thank you.”

  Albert rang the number. “Winston here, you left a message, what do you want?”

  “Mr. Albert Winston?”

  “Yes. Hurry up, I haven’t got all day. I need to prepare my wife’s lunch.”

  “No need. If you check your house you will find she isn’t there. She was
admitted to Bromington hospital this morning. Suspected poisoning.”

  “Poisoning? What are you talking about? How did my wife get to the hospital?”

  “She was collected from the surgery. Mrs. Daley helped her into the surgery this morning. Your cleaner was very concerned about her and rightly so; can you bring a list of your wife’s medications, prescribed and over the counter and tell the doctor what she has eaten over the last few days please.”

  Albie grunted and put down the phone. He wasn’t getting involved in any of this. She’d pull through with a bit of medicine, wasn’t as if she was dying or anything. He didn’t have time to get dragged into questions about something and nothing, not when he had a murder to see to. Albie went upstairs. He needed his notes and hidden money. There was nothing for it. As quick as he could, he loaded his wheelbarrow with supplies. Tent, sleeping bag, spare clothes, can opener, tinned food, a small stove, bottles of water, canned milk, teabags and porridge. He was off with everything he needed for the next five days. He’d also found the perfect hideaway. Albert tucked everything over with an old blanket and left the house in a hurry. The back door was left unlocked.

  Monday evening and Rosie had met with Matt, Anna and Amy. They sat at the kitchen table in Rosie’s apartment. Bumble decided she wanted a big fuss. Her ginger and black tail flicked high in the air; the proud cat sauntered along the table. She pushed herself into everyone along the way stopping for admiration and gave a few wet kisses. Not one for affection most days she then leapt to the worktop, purring and content. After a quick lick and wash behind her ears she jumped onto the tree branch, making her way up to Jane’s for a bit more loving.

  Bear was up next. Anna had bought him a soft ball and he decided now was the time to play catch with it, running around their legs barking and chasing his new toy which was as round and big as his adorable head.