Sabotage

by Karen King

  ‘I know, Joe.’ Jack patted his shoulder. ‘Look, I’ll replace the missing tiles and patch up the rest as best I can, which will keep the cost down for you. But I have to warn you that the roof won’t stand up to a bad winter.’ He picked up his tool bag. ‘I’m really sorry, Joe. I’ll do it as cheap as I can for you, you know that, but I have a living to make. I won’t be offended if you want to get other quotes, mind. It’s always a good idea to scout around for the best price.’

  Joe shook his head. ‘No, Jack, I only deal with people I know and trust. Your price is good enough for me. If you could just send me the bill for patching it up in the meantime, and I’ll sort out my finances to get the rest done before the winter sets in.’

  ‘Will do,’ Jack nodded.

  ‘First the roof, then the pipe,’ Old Joe sighed as Jack drove off. ‘If anything else goes wrong with this house, I might have to sell up.’

  ‘Maybe that’s what they want,’ I told him. ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that things are going wrong just after someone offers you big money for your cottage?’

  Joe stared at me. ‘Are you suggesting this Mr Dawson is damaging my cottage so that I’m forced to sell up?’

  ‘He could be. He’s a property developer, you know.’ I told him about the article I’d seen in Mr Winkleberry’s newspaper. ‘He could stand to lose a lot of money if he wants to build some houses here and you won’t sell up.’

  ‘Or there’s Mr Smythe,’ Max piped up. ‘He could be trying to force you out so that he can look for Roman treasure on your land.’

  Joe looked stunned for a moment, then he shook his head. ‘Those are quite serious accusations, kids,’ he said. ‘My cottage is old and, like I said to Jack, I haven’t had the roof looked at for years; haven’t had the pipes looked at either. I always said if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. So it’s not that surprising they both need repairing, is it? I just hope nothing else goes wrong. That really would wipe me out.’

  ‘Do you really think Mr Dawson or Mr Smythe could be messing around with Old Joe’s cottage to make him sell?’ Max asked as we got on our bikes to go home. ‘That’s a really nasty thing to do.’

  I thought about it. I was sure I’d seen someone running into the woods when Joe’s pipe had burst. Was it someone working for Mr Dawson? I doubted that a big property developer would do his own dirty work. Perhaps it was Mr Smythe then, or could it be those yobs playing a prank to get their revenge on poor Old Joe?

  Just then, something caught my eye. I looked around and saw a flash. A dark blue car was parked by the far fence of the field and a woman was taking photos. Of what, I wondered? The field? The cottage? Maybe she was an accomplice of Mr Dawson or Mr Smythe. I focused on the car but it was too far away for me to make out the license plate. I couldn’t make out the woman’s face clearly either. I took out my cellphone, selected memos and made a note of the colour of the car and a brief description of the woman, just in case I bumped into her again. She was wearing a long blue skirt and white tee shirt. She had long curly brown hair.

  ‘Who’s that woman?’ Max asked.

  ‘No idea, but I’m just making a note about her. I might need to refer to it later.’

  ‘I wish I had a phone like yours, so that I could take photos and make notes and stuff,’ Max said wistfully. He had one of his step-sisters’ old phones, which was a bit basic, and he was always moaning about it. ‘Do you think she’s up to something?’ he added.

  ‘No idea. But it’s a bit strange that she’s taking photos of Joe’s cottage, and Vince always says you should never overlook any detail, no matter how small.’

  Max rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, you and that Vince Bronson guy!’

  ‘One day I’m going to be a top FBI agent like him,’ I said. ‘You’ll see!’

  ‘And I’m going to be a top astronaut like Zach Taylor,’ Max said. ‘I’m going to travel in space and discover unknown planets.’

  ‘Yeah, right!’ I laughed.

  Max glared at me. ‘I am!’ he said. ‘I’ve got as much chance of being an astronaut as you have of being an FBI agent.’

  He was right. Everyone started out as a little kid, even the Prime Minister. Who was I to say he wouldn’t be an astronaut?

  ‘Okay, chill. I was only teasing,’ I told him.

  Just then my cellphone rang. I glanced at the screen and saw that it was Gran. I bet she wanted me to run an errand. I was tempted to ignore it but knew she would only send me back out again when I got home. I flicked the phone open to answer the call. , Gran, I’m on my way home now.’

  ‘Good, can you stop off at the chemist and get me some headache tablets, please? My head is thudding and I’ve got a WI meeting tonight.’ Gran belonged to the local Women’s Institute. I’m not sure what they did at their meetings, but they got together every Thursday evening and Gran seemed to enjoy it.

  The chemist was in the middle of the town, but Gran was real grumpy when she got one of her headaches so I figured the extra journey was worth it.

  ‘I’ve got to go to the chemist for Gran,’ I told Max. ‘You can go straight home if you want.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ he replied. ‘I’m not in a rush.’

  We’d almost reached the high street when a dark blue car shot past us. It pulled up at The Windward Hotel on the corner and a woman with curly brown hair stepped out. She was wearing a white tee shirt and long denim skirt.

  ‘I’m sure that’s the same woman who was taking photos earlier,’ I said to Max. ‘She must be staying at that hotel.’

  I pulled up by the pavement and watched as the woman walked into the hotel. ‘Come on, let’s follow her and find out what she’s up to,’ I told Max. ‘I want to know why she’s so interested in Joe’s cottage.’

  ‘We can’t just walk into a hotel. Someone will stop and ask what room we’re in,’ he pointed out. ‘Anyway, I live here, someone might recognise me.’

  ‘I’ll go in then,’ I told him. ‘You stay and look after the bikes.’

  We cycled over to the hotel car park, and I left Max sitting on the grass verge looking after the bikes. I took a five pound note out of my purse – the last of my allowance – and walked through the main entrance. I glanced around. There was no sign of the curly-haired woman. Smiling brightly I walked over to the reception desk.

  ‘Hello, a lady dropped five pounds outside,’ I held up the note, ‘and I saw her walk in here. A curly-haired lady wearing a blue skirt and white tee shirt …’ I trailed off and looked around. ‘She seems to have gone.’

  ‘Oh, you mean Mrs Langham? She’s in Room 5. How kind of you to return the money.’ The lady on reception was positively beaming. ‘Would you like me to give it to her?’

  ‘It’s okay, I can see her, she’s just about to go up the stairs.’ I ran out into the hall before the lady could say anything to stop me. It was a lie, of course, I had no idea where the woman had gone, but at least I was in the hotel. I hurried up the stairs and along the landing. Room 5 was the third door along. What should I do now?

  I had no time to think of a plan of action because the door to number 5 suddenly opened and out stepped Mrs Langham.

  Chapter 8

  A New Quest!

  ‘Hey, you!’

  I froze. Mrs Langham was calling me. What should I do?

  I fixed an innocent look on my face and turned around. ‘Did you want me?’

  ‘Yes. Are you staying here?’

  ‘Er … no … just visiting someone. Why?’

  ‘Didn’t I see you hanging around that old man’s cottage with a young lad? Is he your brother?’

  I wasn’t sure how to play this. Why was she asking me all these questions? I thought about how Vince would handle this. ‘Keep cool and stick to the truth as much as possible’ he always told Mac. ‘That way you don’t get caught out.’

  ‘No, he is not my brother. He lives next door to me, and he knows Old Joe. That’s why we were visiting him. Why?’ I paused for a moment as if I
was trying to remember. ‘Hey, aren’t you the lady who was taking photos over at the field?’

  ‘Yes, I’m down here on holiday and thought how pretty the cottage was. I just couldn’t resist taking a photo of it.’ She twisted one of the curly locks around her finger. She looked a bit nervous. ‘So, this Old Joe, does he live there by himself?’

  I wished that I’d brought my micro-recorder with me. That way, I could have played this conversation back later. I was sure her questions were leading somewhere and I didn’t want to miss any vital clues.

  I nodded. ‘His wife died years ago and he’s got no children.’

  I saw something flicker across her face. She’d been hoping Old Joe lived alone. Maybe she thought it’d be easier to persuade him to move. ‘He loves that cottage,’ I added. ‘It’s been in his family for years. He’ll never move out.’

  ‘Can’t say I blame him,’ she said. She smiled, then walked off along the corridor.

  She seemed friendly enough, I thought, but then it could all be an act.

  I wasn’t sure what to do now. I knew the woman’s name, the hotel and room she was staying in, so I really ought to go. Hanging around here would only get me into trouble, especially if the woman on reception saw me and discovered that I’d been lying. I made my way to the stairs.

  I was nearly at the bottom of the stairs, when I heard the receptionist’s voice.

  ‘Ah, Mrs Langham. Did that young girl find you?’

  ‘Young girl?’

  ‘American, about 13, said you’d dropped five pounds outside.’

  ‘I did speak to a girl like that, but she didn’t say anything about me dropping money,’ Mrs Langham replied. ‘When I left, she carried on walking along the corridor. Said she was visiting a friend.’

  ‘The young madam! I wonder what she’s up to? I can’t have her walking about the hotel like that. I’ll call Bert and have him look for her.’

  I guessed Bert was the ‘heavy’. Fan-blooming-tastic! I was about to be hunted down and thrown out of the hotel by a big, hulking security guard. Gran would have a major fit if she got to hear about it.

  There had to be a back entrance or something. An emergency escape – that was it. All hotels had to have one. I dashed back upstairs and along the landing. At the far end of the corridor I saw some double doors with Emergency Exit written across the top. I raced towards them.

  ‘Hey, you! Come back here!’ I glanced over my shoulder and saw a burly-looking man running down the corridor after me. Bert, I guessed. I pushed open the doors and bounded down the rickety fire escape steps. As I looked back to see if Bert was gaining on me, I lost my footing on one of the steps and came crashing to the ground. My head felt dizzy, but there was no time to sit about or I’d get caught, so I somehow picked myself up and carried on running.

  ‘I’ll remember you. I never forget a face!’ Bert shouted, leaning over the railings. I jumped down the last few steps and raced across the car park. ‘Don’t let me see you hanging around here again.’

  Max was sitting on the grass verge, looking real fed up. ‘You’ve been ages!’ he glowered.

  ‘Yeah, and I nearly got thrown out too.’ I grabbed my bike. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll fill you in when we get home.’

  Gran looked real annoyed when I walked in. ‘Where have you been, Amy? I told you I needed those tablets urgently. Luckily Mr Winkleberry came home and fetched some for me.’

  The headache tablets! I’d forgotten all about them! ‘Sorry, Gran, Old Joe had a burst pipe and we stayed to help him clean up. I completely forgot about your tablets. I’m really sorry.’

  ‘Well, at least you’ve arrived in time to help me get the room ready for our new guest. She’s arriving at seven and I don’t want to miss my WI meeting.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ I asked, knowing that if Gran missed her beloved WI meeting she’d be in a bad mood all weekend.

  ‘Just run the vacuum around, there’s a dear, and put some clean sheets and a duvet on the bed,’ Gran said. ‘You’ll find them in the airing cupboard. Make sure you use a pretty duvet cover … oh, and put an air freshener plug in the room, will you? A pleasant-smelling room always makes a good impression.’

  It took me a good half an hour to do the room, but it was worth it to stay in Gran’s good books. If she got to hear about what I’d been up to at the hotel, she’d be so mad I’d be grounded for a month.

  By the time I’d finished it was tea time, and Gran, looking a lot perkier, went to get ready for her WI meeting. ‘How do I look?’ she asked when she came back down, dressed in a pale blue twinset and a black pleated skirt.

  Honestly, I don’t know why she took so much trouble just to meet a group of old ladies and natter about jam-making or whatever. As usual, the whole effect was spoilt by the fact that one of her finely–pencilled eyebrows was higher than the other one. I’d been trying to pluck up the courage to tell her about it ever since I’d arrived, but had never found the right moment. This wasn’t it either.

  ‘Very nice,’ I said.

  ‘Thank you, dear. Now, our new guest will be arriving any minute.’

  The doorbell rang, as if on cue. Gran put on her best smile and went to answer it.

  ‘Mrs Carter? I’m Mrs Langham.’

  I froze as I heard the familiar voice. What was she doing here? Had she found out where I lived so that she could tell Gran how I’d sneaked into the hotel that afternoon? My mind was in a spin, trying to think of a reason I could give for being there, for lying about the five pound note.

  ‘Do come in, your room is all ready for you. I’m afraid I have to go out now for a couple of hours, but Mr Winkleberry and my granddaughter, Amy, will look after you. ‘Amy,’ she called. ‘Come and show Mrs Langham to her room, please.’

  Chapter 9

  More Trouble

  There’s only one thing you can do when you’re caught in a corner, and that’s bluff your way out of it. So I fixed a bright smile on my face. ‘Hello, Mrs Langham. We met earlier, didn’t we?’

  She looked a bit taken aback but quickly pulled herself together. ‘Yes, we did. The receptionist seemed to think you were looking for me to give me some money I’d dropped. Strange you didn’t mention it in our conversation.’

  ‘I thought it was you, but it was another lady. I saw her and gave it to her.’ I quickly changed the subject. ‘Why are you staying here now? Didn’t you like it at the hotel?’

  ‘You two have already met?’ Gran asked, surprised.

  ‘Just briefly.’ I said. ‘You go on to your meeting, Gran. I’ll show Mrs Langham to her room,’ I added before she could question me further.

  Mr Winkleberry came out of the lounge. ‘And I’m around all evening if you have any questions, Mrs Langham. I’ve been staying with Mrs Carter for years, so I know all the ropes.’

  ‘Thank you, David. I’ll only be out a couple of hours, Mrs Langham. Do make yourself comfortable,’ Gran said, picking up her bag and making her way to the front door.

  ‘I will, thanks. Enjoy yourself,’ Mrs Langham called after her.

  Mr Winkleberry immediately took charge. ‘You load the dishwasher please, Amy, while I show Mrs Langham to her room.’

  Normally I’d resent Mr W bossing me about, but right now I was glad to make an escape before Mrs Langham could question me further. It would also give me a chance to think about this development.

  What was she doing here? Of all the B&Bs in town, it seemed a bit coincidental that she ended up at the one I lived in on the very day she found out I knew Old Joe.

  I didn’t see Mrs Langham for the rest of the evening, but when I came downstairs the next morning, she was in the kitchen talking to Gran, or rather questioning Gran, about Old Joe.

  ‘So, he’s lived in the cottage all his life then?’ she was saying.

  ‘Yes, and his family before him,’ said Gran.

  ‘It’s a lovely cottage, and such beautiful surroundings,’ said Mrs Langham.

&nbs
p; ‘Where do you live?’ I asked casually, pouring myself a glass of milk and spooning in some strawberry milkshake powder.

  ‘Oh, not far,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Well, I’ve kept you talking long enough, Mrs Carter. Thank you for a lovely breakfast. I’ll get my bag and be off.’ She smiled at me and then walked out.

  ‘What a pleasant woman,’ Gran said. ‘She booked one night at The Windward Hotel to see if she liked the area, then decided to stay for a while, so came here. She said Beachview was highly recommended to her.’

  I was sure that Mrs Langham’s extended stay had something to do with Old Joe’s cottage. I’d have to keep her under close surveillance.

  We’d promised to help Old Joe clear his attic this morning, so I sent a text to Max asking him to meet me at the back gate straight after breakfast. I wanted to get out before Gran or Mr W could find any jobs for me to do.

  We had just cycled into Old Joe’s yard when we heard the splinter of broken glass. We raced around to the side of the house just in time to see a dark-haired lad running towards the woods and Joe’s kitchen window smashed. I just saw red.

  ‘Come back here you scumbag!’ I yelled, chasing after the kid on my bike. ‘You’re not going to get away with bullying an old man like this!’

  Furious, I charged through the woods after him. Big mistake. I should have realised that he wasn’t alone. Not that I saw anyone else, but suddenly my bike hit something and I went flying over the handlebars like a rocket, landing head first in a nearby bush. My pride was damaged, but at least my body wasn’t.

  ‘Are you okay, Amy? Shall we pull you out?’

  Great, just what I needed, Old Joe and Max to come along and see me upside down in a bush. Thank goodness I was wearing jeans. ‘No, I can manage thanks.’ I wriggled out and onto my feet with as much dignity as I could muster. My arm felt sore and I could already feel a big bruise forming. I rubbed it, then brushed the leaves off my clothes and looked around.

  My bike was lying on the ground beside a large branch, which looked as if it had been deliberately dragged across the path.