A woman strutted into the bathroom as I was about to leave. She moved so quickly that I was unable to dash out of the way. We collided. I grabbed hold of her, but lost my balance, and we tumbled to the floor. I fell on top of her. “I’m so s—oh, that’s a nice perfume,” I said.
“Get off,” she said and waved her hands as if to fan me away from her.
I rose to my feet and helped her up. “Are you alright? That sort of stuff never happens to me.” It did. It totally did. I once managed to sprain my ankle while putting on a dress.
She narrowed her eyes at me, still looking attractive with her short pixie cut and leather jacket. She definitely looked new as well. How many new people had we attracted to Castlefield? It meant Eleanor would have some baking to do, together with Olivia. They usually welcomed newcomers that way.
She opened her mouth, no doubt to say something nasty, but instead her face scrunched up like an accordion, and she burst into tears.
“Oh, oh.” I patted her on the shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She mumbled incoherently and I caught snippets: “...moved here... boyfriend... London... different...lonely.”
Luckily I was fluent in sobbing. “Well, it’s a good sign that you were willing to follow your boyfriend here from London. It means you really love him. And yes, of course it will be a big change from a busy city, but take time to get used to it. Also, remember that London is a train ride away, and if you really don’t like it here, you should have an honest conversation with him and see what’s what.”
She patted her red cheeks dry and blinked at me.
“Not everybody is lucky enough to find that special someone. At least, not yet. So if he’s worth fighting for, do it. Besides, when I first came here, I felt completely lost and alone. These people were amazing. They made me feel like I was part of their family, it’s the warmest feeling.” I smiled at her. “So don’t write it off just yet.”
She managed a smile. “Thanks. I’m Christina.” She held out her hand.
I took it. “Maggie. If you do ever find yourself bored, stop by the local bookshop. It’s called The Wicked Bookworm and I own it. Ask for me and I’ll give you a discount.”
“Great. Thank you so much.” Then she rushed to the mirror to adjust the make-up that was now smeared across her cheeks.
I left feeling the warmth that accompanied a good deed and headed outside where Eddie was waiting for me. I glanced back to see a man with his back to me. He was on his phone. The lamp above him was broken, and I could hardly make him out. Still, there was something familiar about him.
Eddie and I split up to get home. We hugged goodbye, and he headed to the cottages where he lived with his dad. Instead of returning to my own flat, I used the key I had for Nancy’s flat and went up.
She was on the sofa watching Coronation Street with a glass of white wine and her Border Terrier Bailey at her feet. His little tail wagged as he saw me, but he was too lazy to get up and properly greet me.
“Hey, love,” she said. “Oh, do you know who’s moved back to the village?” She wore a red headscarf that stood out against her platinum blonde hair.
“Alistair Ashworth. Yeah, I heard.” I plopped down next to her.
She turned down the volume. “Have you seen him?”
“No. You?”
“Nope. Didn’t you used to have a crush on him?”
I did all but stalk him. “Did I? Can’t remember.”
“Hm. Olivia said he’s hot. Do you want me to give you a love potion?”
“Nancy, no! And I know I’m single, but I’m not that single.”
“Are you sure about that?” She chuckled.
“Anyway,” I said loudly as I glared at her. “Victor wants us to visit him. He was being very secretive and dramatic. He said he needed advice, and he wanted us both to come and meet him first thing tomorrow morning at the Pembroke Hotel. He’ll have a hotel room.”
Nancy’s eyebrows shot up across her forehead. “The pervert.”
“Nance, come on. It’s not like that.”
“I should hope so or I’ll throw him out the window.”
“He looked quite spooked.”
“He’s a serial cheater, is what he is. The only thing he should be worried about is an STD.” She downed the rest of her drink. “But sure, we’ll go. No harm in visiting a cursed hotel, is there?”
“Excuse me? You cleansed it. It better not be cursed.”
“There are no spirits, but that doesn’t mean it’s not cursed.” She grinned at me. “Don’t worry, dear. You’ve got nothing to fear.”
I hoped that was true, because I was about to visit that hotel and though it was pretty on the outside, it had death traps on the inside and possibly even bodies that hadn’t been found yet.
I really didn’t want to find any bodies.
Chapter 4
That next morning I decided to read instead of write, hoping it would get me back on the literary horse. I was halfway through the third chapter of a mystery novel I’d read before when Nancy rang the bell at the back of the store. I was already dressed and only had to collect a handbag and my courage before making my way downstairs. I opened the door and stepped out. Nancy was dressed entirely in white and tapped her foot impatiently. Her hair resembled that of a beehive, and her lipstick was bright pink. She wasn’t one to blend in.
“This advice he needs better be worth giving,” she said. “If it’s anything like that man requested yesterday, I’ll hit him with a chair. Hotel rooms have chairs, right? Should I bring my broom?”
“No, don’t bring a broom. I’m sure that he needs our help with something entirely innocent.”
“Sure, and that’s why he’s staying home from work and wants us to meet him at a hotel room in the same village. This whole thing is very odd.”
“I know it’s odd, and that’s why we have to go. Whatever it is, it must be important.” I grabbed her arm as we made our way to the bridge and in the direction of the hill on which the hotel was situated. We came across Pandora the chicken who stared us down in the middle of the street, but just as I was about to make a run for it, Nancy squeezed my arm and kept on walking. We went straight towards her. Her brownish red feathers were pretty, but her beady eyes were evil.
Any moment she could charge at us, but she did nothing. She let us pass without so much as a strange clucking sound. If anybody had seen us, they would have thought it was Nancy’s magic. And maybe it was.
The hotel was a Victorian estate with bay windows and castle-like features. Pink climbing roses adorned the white archway by the entrance. It was well kept and looked gorgeous, yet at the same time I couldn’t help but feel sad as I looked at it.
Mrs Field was the one attending the reception desk. It was an old mahogany desk with an old-fashioned ledger for guests to sign in, but there was also a computer in the corner. “Miss Matthews,” she said as soon as she spotted me. “And Nancy, welcome back. How delightful to see you both.”
Nancy just murmured some general pleasantries.
“Please call me Maggie,” I said. “It’s nice to see you too. We’re here to visit Victor Woodsbury. Do you have his room number?”
“Of course. It’s 205. The second floor.”
“Thank you.”
Mrs Field asked me to stop by at the reception desk before leaving so I could sign her book and after I said I would, we went up the broad staircase with the swirling banister. The carpet absorbed our footfalls as we made our way up. It was very beautiful on the inside and didn’t feel like it once belonged to a serial killer. They really had done their best to renovate it and maintain some of the old features.
We made our way up to the second floor while Nancy was telling me about where she would hit Victor with the chair when we arrived at his hotel room. I knocked on the door and made sure I was positioned between Victor and Nancy when he’d open the door. Just in case.
Silence.
I knocked again, then tried the handle. The door opened
. All the doors had old-fashioned keys, so they didn’t lock automatically.
“That’s never a good sign,” Detective Black said.
“Oh, oh,” I said. “Stay back.”
“No way. You stay back. If this means there’s trouble, then I’m going in. I’ve read your books and I watch crime dramas. I know exactly what to do.” She grabbed a tea kettle from her handbag.
“What? Why did you bring a tea kettle?”
“My broom didn’t fit in my handbag.” She pushed open the door.
“If there is a murderer in there, go for the eyes, the groin, or the throat,” Detective Black said.
We tiptoed into the room as I stuck close behind Nancy in case I needed to defend her. She was good with household appliances, but still. There was an empty tea cup on the desk and other than that the room looked like nobody had been in there. Of course, he hadn’t spent the night here. For some reason he only rented this room so we would have a place to talk while his wife thought he was at work.
“Victor?” I asked. “Are you there?” My voice trembled. I went over to the bathroom and tried the door. It was locked. “Victor?” I tapped on the door.
Nothing.
I banged this time, though I couldn’t imagine why he couldn’t hear me. Especially when he was expecting us. A ball of barbed wire settled in my stomach.
“I can think of a reason why he wouldn’t answer,” Detective Black said.
“Nance, give me your credit card.”
“You make your own money, use your own,” she said.
“No, I know a trick so I can open the lock. It’s one of those hook-and-eye latches. I noticed that when I checked out pictures on their website. Give me a card that you don’t mind getting scratched.”
She sighed. “Fine. But I’m telling you he’s just being an arse, because he is, in fact, an arse.” She said that last bit loud enough for him to hear. She handed me a card.
I wiggled it between the door and the door post, hoping it would be under the lock. It was difficult because I had to guess. I shimmied the card upwards until I felt resistance. It meant I was in the right place. I kept wiggling until I felt no resistance and there was a sound against the door. I had gotten it out of the hook. I opened the door as I held my breath.
He was in the bath with his back to me, but I could immediately tell that he was dead. He was leaning over the edge of the tub and had clearly been sick. His skin had an unnatural colour. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare.
I screamed my lungs out.
WE HAD TO WAIT DOWNSTAIRS in the lounge area while the crime scene unit processed the room, and the coroner and detectives were called. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if Alistair would be the detective on the case, but it barely reached my conscious mind. I trembled on the comfortable sofa while Nancy kept rubbing my back and offering me water even though I didn’t want any, nor did I see how water could help me unsee what I had seen.
The other guests downstairs were eyeing me with curiosity, but only one had tried to approach me. She had backed off when Nancy growled at her. Still, they already knew someone had died and that that someone was Victor Woodsbury. It wouldn’t be long now till the village mentioned the curse. I hated that, because no curse had killed Victor, and I didn’t want people to use that as an excuse not to pay attention to their surroundings. Victor had seemed scared. Perhaps other people had noticed something about him. Of course, it could just be a coincidence.
“There are no coincidences when it comes to a sudden death,” Detective Black said.
Which I agreed with, but I also considered that perhaps my imaginative mind had taken over. Perhaps Victor had simply become a bit dramatic now that he’d reached his fifties.
It seemed to take forever until someone cleared their throat. I looked up at Alistair, recognising him immediately. He was wearing a grey suit and black shoes. His black hair was half long. His shoulders were broad and he still had that air of coolness about him. He was also very good at maintaining a poker face, since I couldn’t tell if he knew who I was.
“I’m DS Ashworth and this is DC Daniels,” he said.
It wasn’t until then that I noticed the man standing behind him. He looked slender and smiled sheepishly.
“I realise you two have had quite the shock,” Alistair continued, “but I’m going to have to ask you some questions. Is that okay?”
I nodded.
“You two found the body?” he asked.
“Victor,” I said.
“Excuse me?”
“His name is Victor. Victor Woodsbury.” I managed a feeble smile, though in reality it probably looked like a grimace.
“Of course. Victor. And you found him?”
“So what? If it hadn’t been for us, it would have been the maid or something,” Nancy said. “We were just minding our own business.”
Alistair frowned. “In his hotel room?”
“He invited us over,” I said. “Yesterday. He said he needed advice and he wanted my aunt to come over, then he added that I should come as well. He said I couldn’t tell anyone and that we were to meet him at the hotel. He indicated that he’d pretend to go to work and nobody would know he’d be here. Except us.”
Alistair scribbled something in his notebook. “And did he mention what he needed advice about?”
I shook my head.
“And then what happened when you arrived?”
“We asked for his room number and then went up. When we got to his door, it was unlocked. My aunt Nancy took out a tea kettle as a potential weapon since we both thought it ominous that his door was open. Which was silly, I guess, but we watch a lot of crime dramas. Also, it did turn out to be...you know?”
“A body.”
“Yep,” I said in a high voice.
“And why did you bring a tea kettle to this meeting?” Alistair asked Nancy.
“Because his intentions could have been impure. He was a cheating bastard,” she said.
“He was? How do you know?”
“Everybody knows.” She leaned forward. “And in case you don’t remember, we gossip a lot.”
He flashed her a professional smile. “And then what happened?”
“Everything looked like a normal empty hotel room except for one cup of tea. I tried the bathroom but it was locked.”
“Locked? You’re sure?” He scribbled something down again. “How did you get into the bathroom then?”
I felt my cheeks get warm.
Alistair stopped writing and observed my expression. He sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of me, suddenly quite close. Our knees were nearly touching. He smelt woody and I wanted to hug him. “I just want to know the truth. You’re not in any trouble, but it’s important we get all the facts.”
“I used a credit card to open the lock. I simply pushed the card up, and then it opened. I had to do that once for research purposes. As a mystery writer.”
He simply smiled. “Then what happened?”
Nancy scoffed. “Then a marching band came out of the bathroom to perform for us. What do you think? We saw the dead body, she screamed her head off, and we ran out of there to get Mrs Field. She rang the police and here we are.”
“So nobody stayed with the—Victor?” Alistair asked.
“What did you want? For us to sit there and braid his hair?” Nancy said with a frown on her face.
“Nance,” I warned.
“What? It’s a stupid question. Are you really the detective on this case?” she said. “Lovely to have you back, though.” And just like that the switch had flipped, and she stared at him affectionately. “How is your mother? She must be happy to have you back.”
He blinked. “Right. I’m—” his voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. “One more question. Did either of you touch anything?”
“I touched the door handle to the bathroom, other than that we didn’t touch anything. Did we?” I asked Nancy.
She shook
her head vehemently.
Alistair got up. “I might stop by later to ask some more questions. For now I’ll need the tea kettle that you brought.” He held out his hand to Nancy.
She gasped dramatically. “Why? What has this tea kettle ever done to you?”
“Miss Knightley, please.”
She growled, then took out the tea kettle and pressed it into his hands. “Just be gentle with it. It’s a delicate kettle.”
“I thought you brought it as a weapon?”
“Reluctantly. My broom didn’t fit in my handbag.”
After he gave Nancy a look I couldn’t decipher, he left. I watched him go, noting that he hadn’t shown any signs of recognition. No warmth or kindness. Just a professional attitude that told me I didn’t have a shot. Not in a million years.
“Thanks for the ointment you gave my mum,” DC Daniels said to Nancy.
“You’re very welcome, dear. Say hi to her for me. She’s a lovely woman.” Her voice was soft as warm milk.
DC Daniels smiled and then trotted off in the direction Alistair had gone.
“You do realise that Alistair thinks you’re crazy now?”
“But I am, so why would I mind that? Now, let’s get you home.”
NANCY BROUGHT ME TO her place where Bailey snuggled up on my lap after she placed me on the sofa with a mug of herbal tea and a blanket. I had thought of getting a pet myself, but I didn’t have time to walk a dog every day, nor did I want to. And with a cat I’d have to wear a hazmat suit every time I had to clean the litter box. The only thing that came close to being desirable was a bunny.
Nancy was never sick, nor had she ever hired anyone to cover for her in her shop. This time wasn’t any different. After she made sure I was okay, she went downstairs to open up for business and gossip, no doubt.
By that time I had stopped shaking, even if I still couldn’t believe what had happened. Despite that time that Victor had comforted me, we hadn’t spoken much. Perhaps a few words in the street or the time that he frequented the bookshop. It only lasted a few weeks, and then he stopped. Even if he was a cheater, I had liked him and I was sad to know he’d died. Victor and Patricia were quite popular in this village, and I imagined this would be hot news. Quite a lot of people would be upset. Victor had always been charming.
Prelude to Poison Page 3