by Emily Selby
Blades, Betrayals and Broken Ties
Emily Selby
Copyright © 2018 by Emily Selby
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book and the entire series is set in England and written using British English spelling, punctuation and some vocabulary.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Also by Emily Selby
1
Katie Redford climbed out of her green Nissan Micra and slammed the door. Roy Dunbar was already waiting for her on the pavement by the workshop. The cold air of the December morning hit her face, carrying with it a distinct smell. Unpleasant. She suppressed a wince and crossed the road to Roy.
'Hi, Katie,' he said. He was dressed in his favourite blue overalls and a denim jacket, the way she remembered him from the day she discovered Mrs Dunbar's body, back in September. This time, he was wearing a denim cap as well.
'Sorry about the early hour,' Roy said. 'Just want to get this all done before the official part. Let's have a look at the place together and tell me if you want anything done.'
'If you could just cut the grass it would be great. I'll think about what to do with the building in the spring,' Katie replied quickly. A heavy sensation settled in her chest.
'I'll be planting some shrubs soon. They look nice in winter. Would you like me to do anything in front of the workshop as well?' Roy didn't give up.
'No, I'll wait.' Katie hesitated. With everything that had been going on in her life lately, she hadn't had time to think about the workshop. To be honest, she hadn't even checked if she would have to pay inheritance tax on the building and land. She had been too overwhelmed by the whole decision-making around it. Too much information to process, too anxiety-provoking.
'I'll show you the boundaries.' Roy beckoned her to follow him along the pavement. 'Oh,' he mumbled. 'It stinks.'
'I've noticed that as well. What is it?'
'Dunno. But I can tell you for sure, it's gotten worse recently.'
'Since when?'
Roy stopped. He pushed the cap off his forehead and scratched his head.
'Let me think. I came to do the lawns last week, but they still looked okay. I noticed the smell, but back then, it was only a waft.'
'How often do you cut the grass?'
'Every couple of weeks, less often in winter, of course.'
'Oh,' Katie said, embarrassed. 'You shouldn't have made such a fuss. It's not necessary.'
'It's not a fuss.' Roy looked at her severely. 'I don't want the place to look abandoned. It’ll only encourage vandals and I like to keep an eye on it.'
'You're right,' Katie rushed to add. 'After Barbara’s and Phyllis’ deaths, and with the new estate still in development, I doubt many people come out here.'
Roy stood by the battered wooden fence separating the workshop from the eyesore property that used to belong to the Marino family.
'This fence,' Roy said, tapping a broken plank, 'belongs to that house.' He pointed his chin at the old, dilapidated house in the background. 'Unfortunately, it's up to them to keep it in good shape. Which, as you can see, they haven't done for ages. Too busy living at Her Majesty's pleasure, I presume.'
Katie slid her gaze along the panels. Indeed, not only had the old house been cursed with a bizarre ownership arrangement, it was now involved in a complicated inheritance process, with some of the beneficiaries currently in jail. The fence was in desperate need of repair. The paint must have peeled off completely if any had ever been applied. The rain-and-sun battered planks were rotted and broken, and the panel behind the workshop had one plank missing, and one snapped in half and twisted.
Big enough hole for a small person to squeeze through.
Katie squatted to inspect it.
'I don't recall it being this broken,' she said slowly, thinking back to the last time she’d had a proper look around the workshop, which was at least a couple of months earlier.
Roy bent over her.
'Yeah, I think it's more recent. I don't remember seeing it last time I did the lawns. Probably some kids playing. The planks are quite damaged. It might have even been a large dog, I suppose.'
'A dog? I remember seeing a ginger cat around this place, but that was back in September. The one that entered your aunt's house.' She paused and glanced at Roy, but he just shook his head.
'Hm,' Roy mumbled again. 'This stink... It smells like a dead animal.'
Katie tensed.
Not another corpse, surely!
'Where do you think this is coming from?'
'Wouldn't be surprised if it's in that yard. There's a load of rubble in there.'
'Yes, you can see a pile if you peek through the gap between the planks. The owners should have sorted it out ages ago.'
'Hasn’t it been sold yet?' Roy asked, squeezing between the back wall of the workshop and the fence. 'Sorry, I've left this stripe of grass uncut. I just didn't think it was worthwhile doing anything with it. Would you like me to cut it this morning or are you thinking of getting rid of it completely? If I were you, I'd put up something to cover the ugliness behind it.'
Katie eyed the fence up and down. Her heart was heavy. The fence was really off-putting. Roy was right - an eyesore, particularly if she wanted to make the building into a shop with lovely craft supplies!
'How difficult and costly would it be to place another screen here?' she asked, pushing back the panic rising in her throat.
'It depends what you want.'
'Something cheap and easy to make.'
He nodded his understanding. 'I can have a think about it.'
'That'd be great. Thanks,' Katie replied and bent to look at the ground by the hole in the fence.
Something glittered in the grass beside it. Katie pushed a tuft of tall blades aside.
'Look,' she called out, surprised and excited. 'A coin.' She plucked it out of the grass and held it carefully between finger and thumb. 'And it's fifty pence! Lucky.'
'Not much.'
'Find a penny, pick it up, and all day you have good luck,' Katie said and giggled.
'What's that?'
'An old rhyme. A superstition that if you find money on the pavement, more money is on your way. That would be nice,' Katie added and sighed.
If only it was true... If anything, it looked like there was more spending on the horizon rather than money coming her way. Katie unzipped her jacket and slipped the lucky find into the inside pocket.
'I
'm sure it'll come handy when I visit Mrs Bloom, your solicitor.' She gave a sharp laugh. 'Apparently, she has some paperwork for me to sign.'
'Yeah.' Roy curved his lips upwards. 'I have an appointment with her, too, lunchtime. I'll be the one paying her, so am not looking forward to it.'
'How far along are you in the process?'
'Just getting ready to apply for probate. Checking if those who inherit are happy with the arrangements. Then, there will be more stuff - evaluation of the estate, taxes. It'll take months.'
'What are you going to do with the house?'
'Don't know yet. What about you? Do you want to do that craft shop, like Aunty wanted? Or ...' Roy allowed his unfinished question to hang in the air.
Katie shoved her hands into her pockets and looked away. She should have really spent more time thinking about it.
'It's a lovely idea ...' she said cautiously.
'But this isn’t a very busy place. As the retailers say, there isn’t much footfall,' Roy picked up, hesitantly. 'Not good for business, I'm afraid.'
'No,' Katie agreed. Should she just sell the building once it was hers?
'Having said that, there's been quite a lot of car traffic lately,' Roy added, sounding a bit distracted.
Katie turned her head to look at him.
'That's unusual. How come?'
Roy shrugged. 'No idea. When I mowed the lawns last time, there were car tyre tracks on the bank of the stream. Just past the tree.'
'Do you think someone got lost, drove onto the bank to turn around?'
Roy straightened his back. 'Maybe,' he said, looking away.
Katie shivered and hugged her jacket closer. 'Let's get on with it, Roy. I should probably go and see Mrs Weatherspoon this morning before work.'
'Right,' Roy said and grabbed a rake he had previously leaned against the workshop wall. 'I'll cut the grass short and have a think about the kind of fence to put up. You want it up to here?' he added, striding along the fence to the gate. He tapped on the gate, which opened with a screech.
Roy flinched. 'That's strange,' he said quietly. 'I'd swear it was locked.'
Katie trotted towards him. 'What do you mean?'
'The gate,' Roy replied tensing his jaw. 'It's always been locked. I know that. I've checked.'
'What's happened?'
Rob pushed the gate further and, with another screech, the yard in the dilapidated house greeted them. Piles of rubble, patches of dry weeds, and a rusty wheelbarrow with the missing wheel vied for their attention. A gust of wind hit her, bringing another waft of sickly sweet odour.
Katie gulped. 'Yuck,' she mumbled.
'Yeah,' Roy said and stepped into the yard. 'It's definitely coming from here. I'll have a look around. See if I can find that dead animal.'
Katie ignored the heavy tugging in her stomach that intensified as she followed Roy, covering her mouth with the collar of her jacket.
Roy crossed the yard, skilfully manoeuvring between the various scattered items and heading straight for the house. Katie picked her way carefully past the broken glass, full black bin bags, and other trip hazards, wishing she’d worn her wellies.
'It must be somewhere here,' he said.
He stood by the first window, the one missing the pane, while Katie checked the next one, almost completely smashed.
'Nothing,' he said and moved towards the main door. He pushed the handle, and the door gave way, hitting them with another wave of the evil stench.
'Quite dark in here.' Roy seemed to be unruffled by the odour. 'Move away,' he ordered Katie. A shaft of light from the doorway filled the space. He approached a jumble of broken wood and bricks by the stairway. The steps were covered with a layer of dust and piles of rubble.
'They should have put a notice on the gate that it's dangerous,' Roy commented. 'It looks like something happened up there.' He pointed toward the first floor and grabbed the handrail. Katie swiftly moved to his side.
'It looks dangerous. Maybe we shouldn't?' she said, her heart rate accelerating.
'Yeah, we shouldn't. But the gate was open. The door was unlocked. It's stinking. If we don't sort it out it now, in a few days it will be all stinking all over, everywhere. My property and your workshop, included.'
Well, put this way, it made sense.
The stench inside the house was unbearably strong. Katie pressed her hand against her nose and mouth. As her eyes adapted to the semi-darkness, she spotted a heap on the mid-level landing.
'Roy, I think there is something up there,' she said slowly and carefully climbed a couple of steps.
Roy touched her back. 'Don't,' he said sharply.
Katie stared at the piled debris and grey dust, recognising the distinct shape of two work boots sticking out from beneath a pile of broken plaster. Large boots. Man-sized.
'I'm not going anywhere. Neither is this poor chap.' She pointed at the boots.
Her guts lurched, and Katie turned around, rushing out to the fresh air.
'I'll ring the police,' she called to Roy. 'Sorry, I can't stand it in there any longer.'
Once outside and far enough from the house for the stench to be bearable, she grabbed her phone from her handbag. Since the guy had definitely been dead and for a while, she rang the police station instead of the emergency services.
Surprisingly, it was inspector Andy Lumley who answered but Katie didn't have to time to figure out why.
'It's Katie, sir. I'm sorry to spoil your morning, but I think I've just found a body.'
'A dead body?' Inspector Lumley was well-known for being succinct.
'Long-dead, sir, if I may put it that way. I'm at Number 1, Stream Drive. The old, dilapidated house. I'm sure if you ask Chris, he'll know the place I'm talking about.
There was a pause at the other end of the line.
'I'll get someone over there as soon as possible,' Inspector Lumley said. 'Will you stay there until?'
'No, I can't. I'll ask Roy to guard the place in the mean time.'
'Coming to work?'
'Not yet. I'll be there to start at ten. Unfortunately, I've got another errand to run. Can I make a statement when I'm in the office, sir?'
'No problem. But I'm afraid we'll start without you. I've got to leave soon.'
Katie's heart flipped. She was really looking forward to the secret little birthday surprise Sunnyvale team prepared for Jack this morning. But Inspector Lumley's timetable was more important than hers. And, of course, her work commitments took priority over fun. Mrs Weatherspoon, a cleaning client, had something urgent for Katie to do before she headed for Christmas with her sister. And she’d sounded quite upset on the phone.
What a shame! Good job I left the card I made for Jack with Celia on Friday. And thank goodness, Celia made sure everything was organised before she went on Christmas leave.
Katie ended the call and waved at Roy, who was standing by the gates flipping his head from side to side, no doubt trying to watch the house and Katie.
'They're sending someone,' Katie said.
Roy stepped onto the pavement and pulled the gate closed. It slammed against the frame with a clang.
'Are you sure the gate was locked before today?'
'Certain. I pressed the handle once or twice when mowing the lawns. Out of curiosity, you know.'
Katie nodded. She'd never bothered checking. The gate looked closed, and she had no interest in sticking her nose into other people's yards.
Well, not in this context...
'Maybe someone from the family came to check on the house?'
Roy raised his eyebrows. 'I haven’t seen anyone around the old place for years.'
'True,' Katie agreed. 'When was the last time you checked the gate?'
'It must have been shortly after that case the Marinos family came to town.'
Katie did a quick calculation in her head. 'That was in October.' She checked her watch. 'Sorry, Roy. I've got to run. I've got a client waiting for me. The police will be here soon,' she ad
ded. 'Thanks for taking over here.'
Katie drove away. If she could sort out Mrs Weatherspoon's 'quick errand' rapidly, she might be able to reach work before Jack left.
2
'Katie, I'm so sorry to change your usual cleaning day, but there was a memorial service on Saturday and I just had to be there for my sister,' Mrs Weatherspoon, cheeks flushed, said before Katie closed the door. 'She's still very upset, as you can imagine.'
'Not a problem, Mrs Weatherspoon. I was quite busy on Friday anyway. I'm happy to do whatever I can today,' Katie replied, unzipping her winter jacket and hanging it on a hook in the hall closet.
'I-It's not much,' Mrs Weatherspoon continued, wringing her hands. 'Maybe I should have tried doing it myself, but my arthritis is so bad in winter. As I said before, I'll be spending Christmas with my sister in Newcastle, so all I need is just this little thing.' She paused, blinking nervously.
'Happy to help,' Katie said as soothingly as she could. Mrs Weatherspoon seemed clearly uncomfortable with this request. 'It's not a problem. Let's get on with it, shall we? What would you like me to do?'
Mrs Weatherspoon reached into the pocket of her apron. She took out a key.
'It's a-' She paused, returned the key to the pocket, fished out her glasses from the other pocket and put them on. 'That's better,' she mumbled and reached for the key again. 'I need to warn you, Katie. The smell is bad. You may want to cover your nose.'
Bad smell, ha! Nothing would faze Katie after the events of this morning.
'That's okay. What's the problem?' Katie pressed gently. Pressing her befuddled client less than gently usually created more fussing.
'You see, my boarder, Mr Blackburn has been away for a while. He's staying with a friend, working for him or something. He must have left some food. Anyway, I don't normally go there, but you see... It's ... it smells awful. I think there is something spoilt there.'