The Windmill Cafe Part 2 Autumn Leaves

by Poppy Blake

Matt’s mood changed. He scratched at the smattering of blond stubble on his jaw before leaning back in his chair, crossing his boot over his thigh and expelling a long sigh of frustration.

  ‘Rosie, I know we solved the last mystery before the police did, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to do the same this time. I’m really worried about the business, I have to admit. Even if the mystery is cleared up by the weekend, we’ve just had another three cancellations for the week after next. That leaves us with only two groups for the assault course and both of them are from outside the area and probably haven’t heard about what happened at Garside Priory yet. I’ve completely destroyed the business my father spent years building; not only that but the scandal is bound to have an impact on his name.’

  The look of desperation on Matt’s face made Rosie want to grab hold of him pull him into a hug, and the only thing stopping her was the knowing looks she was getting from Corinne. She experienced an overwhelming desire to apply every little grey cell at her disposal to uncover the perpetrator of the surprise assault on Rick, if only so that Matt’s outward-bound centre would survive to offer the inhabitants of Norfolk the opportunity to fling themselves from the treetops or drag themselves through mud as part of so-called team building exercises for years to come. She couldn’t bear for the place to close because of an unwarranted slur on its reputation.

  After Matt had told her about his father’s climbing accident, Rosie had googled the details. What Matt hadn’t told her was how well-known Malcom Wilson had been in mountaineering circles and how his death had affected the whole community. Matt had been twenty-one and had just graduated from university and was about to take up a place at the police college in Hendon when the accident happened. His younger brother had finished his A levels and was heading to university so it was down to Matt to continue with the running of Ultimate Adventures in his father’s absence. Far from feeling cheated, Matt had confided in her that he loved the outdoors lifestyle and he suspected he would have grown to hate being cooped up in an office, but that didn’t prevent him from continuing his fascination with puzzles of every kind – including the assault courses he had built around the Ultimate Adventures woodland.

  ‘Why don’t we go over everything we know?’ said Rosie, hoping something new would come of the exercise.

  ‘If you think it’ll do any good,’ mumbled Matt, scrutinizing the contents of his espresso cup as if they were laced with poison.

  Rosie ignored his lacklustre response and breezed forward in her deductions.

  ‘Let’s start with Helen who we know is having an affair with one of Rick’s colleagues. Either separately or together, they could have driven over to Garside, laid low until the morning and then shot Rick when he arrived at the Priory. As far as motive is concerned, if they intended to kill Rick rather than just hurt him, then not only would Helen stand to inherit a sizeable sum, she wouldn’t have to fight her way through the divorce courts. We also should factor in Rick’s refusal to contemplate having a family. Remember, when we spoke to Helen she told us she couldn’t forgive him for not telling her before they got married. That’s a pretty tough situation to accept without a fight, don’t you think? With Rick out of the way, she would be free, wealthy and have the chance of becoming a mother before it’s too late.’

  She waited until her attempt at amateur psychology had had the chance to seep under Matt’s armour of realism. As she studied his face and the way his shoulders slumped, she was shocked to see he wore an air of defeat. He hadn’t touched his espresso and his eyes were ringed with tiredness as he replied.

  ‘But there’s no evidence to suggest she was anywhere near the Garside Priory that morning. No one has come forward to say they saw a red Porsche, or a white Audi TT, screaming away from the scene – neither of them are the type of vehicle that would blend into the countryside. I’ve spent some time stalking every member of the group on social media and all Helen seems to do is go to the gym, have lunch with her friends, or organize the occasional charity dinner for Rick’s accountancy company. And Tim Latimer is even wealthier than Rick, so I don’t think either of them are interested in getting rid of him for his money. Sorry, Rosie, I know you’re trying to help, but I don’t think it’s either of them.’

  Undeterred, Rosie flicked through her internal Rolodex until she arrived at her next target.

  ‘Okay, let’s move on to Phil and Steph Brown. Rick found out about the two unauthorized withdrawals in the Myth Seekers Society’s accounts and threatened to report Phil to the police for theft. Phil admits he withdrew the funds without the permission of the committee, but if you want my opinion, I doubt the Greater Manchester police would have taken the report too seriously, especially as the money was spent on a plaque to commemorate the Society’s twentieth anniversary, not for his own use.’

  ‘I agree with you,’ said Matt, his chin starting to lift as his interest in her deductions sharpened. ‘But let’s not forget that Rick was constantly on Phil’s case about something or other. We both saw how he went on at the camp. Perhaps Phil had just had enough of being bullied and snapped. It happens.’

  ‘Yes, it happens, but I can’t see Phil in a pair of green tights prancing through the fields with a bow and arrow slung over his shoulder. He doesn’t look strong enough to even carry one as far as the priory without needing a sit down to get his breath back. And his eyesight is dreadful which is bound to effect his aim.’

  ‘What about Steph? She’s a bit more feisty, especially when it comes to protecting her husband.’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘And neither of them has an alibi. Phil was with us at the camp but we were all out of it. He could have laced our coffee, then pretended to be asleep and followed Rick up to the priory. Maybe when he realized what Rick was up to he just saw red? And Steph could have waited until Helen left for her assignation with Tim Latimer, then driven over to the site in their Volvo, shot Rick, hidden the bow and got back to the lodge before Helen came back.’

  ‘A bit flimsy, though, isn’t it?’

  ‘Okay. What about Brad? He has plenty of motive. Rick knew about his sideline in selling valuable artefacts. I reckon the police would have definitely taken that seriously. It would be easy enough for them to gather the evidence they need for a prosecution from his internet accounts. He’d be looking at a hefty fine at the very least, and even if Rick relented about involving the police he wouldn’t have been able to resist telling everyone at the Myth Seekers Society about what Brad had been up to. That club means the world to Brad – he would have been devastated if they’d voted to expel him.’

  ‘Yes, I agree Brad has a strong motive. What he did has the most serious consequences. But I can’t get away from the fact that he is still grieving over the death of his brother. And do you think he has the brains to come up with a plot to shoot Rick with an arrow just to shut him up? What about Emma? I have to admit she’s at the bottom of my list. She hardly knew Rick and he wasn’t threatening her with any kind of exposure as far as we know nor had he included her in his bullying regime.’

  ‘You’re right. I can’t think of a motive unless she was upset about the way Rick was treating Brad, but they’d only been together for a few months. I think we can rule Emma out. Although, like Brad, she had the same opportunity to slip everyone a sedative and follow Rick to the priory, shoot him and then double back to make it look like she’d woken up with the rest of us. However, I reckon it was Rick that doctored everyone’s coffee. Did you notice anyone refusing a drink?’

  ‘No, sorry. I thought we all drank it.’ Rosie paused, unsure whether she should say what had been coiling round her mind for a while. Oh, well, why not! ‘What about a jealous former lover? We know Rick’s been married twice before. Or an abandoned love child? Or a deranged stalker? Or perhaps someone whose business Rick liquidated?’

  ‘Really, a deranged stalker? You’re joking, right?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Matt dropped his head into his palms and groa
ned. After a few minutes he raised his eyes and studied Rosie as she flicked through the notes she had scribbled on a napkin.

  ‘What are our final conclusions then, PI Barnes? All the suspects on our list have a motive, all had opportunity, but it’s unlikely that any of them would choose a bow and arrow as their weapon of choice.’

  ‘I suppose one of them could have taken up archery in secret?’

  ‘True. So again, they all could have done it.’

  ‘It does seem that way.’

  ‘Can I get you any more coffee?’ asked Corinne, sensing a lull in their conversation.

  ‘I think I’ve had enough coffee to last me a month!’ declared Matt, swallowing his espresso in one go.

  ‘Coffee, that’s it!’ cried Rosie. ‘Why didn’t I think of that sooner!?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Well, instead of wondering who put that sedative in our coffee, why don’t we just ask Rick straight out whether or not it was him? He’s the only one we haven’t talked to and he should be out of surgery by now.’

  ‘You know he refuses to take my calls. I must have tried a dozen times, and don’t forget his threat of legal action!’

  ‘I don’t think his solicitor will have driven down from Manchester to visit him in hospital, do you? And Rick’s used to being busy so I reckon he’ll be going stir crazy about being confined to a bed not knowing anything about what’s going on. So, instead of trying to ring him, why don’t we drive over to the hospital where we can look him in the eye and tell him we know it was him who spiked everyone’s drinks and see how he reacts?’

  ‘It’s an inspired plan! Come on, what are we waiting for?’ cried Matt, jumping up from the table and rushing out of the café leaving her to pay the bill.

  Chapter 19

  The hospital car park was crammed to bursting and disgruntled would-be visitors circled the roads like predatory cats waiting to pounce on innocent mice.

  ‘Look, there’s a space!’ declared Rosie.

  There followed an almost comedic dash for the parking bay around the one-way system, which she was thankful they won, but as they drew into the space a wave of guilt hit her. What if the driver of the silver Saab’s need was greater than their own? She craned her head over her shoulder to see with relief that the Saab had pulled into a space next to the pay meter.

  ‘Good God! You need to take out a mortgage to pay the parking fees!’ groaned Matt, reaching into his pocket for a handful of change.

  ‘Have you worked out what we’re going to say to Rick?’ asked Rosie as they made their way towards the reception area where they had arranged, via a sympathetic Helen, to meet Rick.

  ‘Not really. Let’s just see how it goes, shall we? Bearing in mind the contents of his last text, I was surprised Rick agreed to talk to us at all, especially in person.’

  ‘It’s probably testament to the boredom of being stuck in hospital.’

  A coil of trepidation had begun its insidious journey around Rosie’s abdomen. As with many people, hospitals held painful memories, and this would be the first time she had set foot in one of their neon-bright corridors since she had lost her beloved father over twelve years ago. Her breath felt laboured from the concrete heavy block weighing down on her chest, and her head was stuffed with cotton wool, yet she knew she had to call on her reserves of courage to solve the mystery of Rick’s shooting and rescue Matt’s business. Anyway, she told herself sternly, other visitors to the hospital had far worse interviews to attend.

  They had just stepped into the building when Matt’s phone buzzed.

  ‘Are you going to answer it?’

  ‘No, look, there’s Rick.’

  ‘I think you should at least see who’s calling.’

  Matt extracted his phone and sighed. ‘It’s Freddie.’

  ‘Talk to him. It might be important.’

  ‘Hi, Fred.’

  Matt’s eyes lingered on Rosie as he listened to Freddie’s report.

  ‘That’s great news, Freddie. Thanks for letting us know. I’m at the hospital with Rosie, visiting Rick, so I’ll pass the information on to them both. Catch you later.’ Matt slid his mobile into the back pocket of his jeans and met Rosie’s eyes, a hint of excitement ignited in their depths. ‘Would you believe the detectorists have found the riser and the limbs of the recurve bow used to shoot Rick? Both were discovered in a hollowed out oak tree in the woodland surrounding the Garside Priory. The police are testing them for fingerprints, but I doubt they’ll find any.’

  ‘You know, something else has just occurred to me…’

  ‘Matt! Rosie! You’re late. I’ve been sat here like an idiot for the last twenty minutes which means the coffees are on you!’

  Rick spun his wheelchair towards the vending machine at speed, scattering a mother and toddler and an old man with a Zimmer frame from his path – he might have broken his ankle, but his pompous personality remained intact. Rosie rolled her eyes at Matt behind Rick’s back and went to buy them all a coffee while Matt found a quiet corner to have a chat.

  ‘Thanks for agreeing to talk to us, Rick. Rosie and I are as anxious as you are to get to the bottom of what happened.’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing else to do in this place except stare at a television screen. The doc refuses to discharge me until tomorrow at the earliest. I’d discharge myself, but that would probably affect any potential negligence claim.’

  Rosie handed Rick a coffee, briefly wondering if his attitude would improve if she poured the hot beverage in his lap. She had been prepared to put Rick’s grumpy demeanour down to the fact he was in pain and had been through a traumatic experience that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. However, he did little to ingratiate himself to the innocent onlooker. She wondered if he ever allowed anything pleasant to pass his lips. He might be generous with his cash, but he certainly wasn’t very charitable with his words.

  ‘So, don’t just sit there gawping like a pair of goldfish, what did you want to ask me?’

  Rosie stared at Matt, signalling that she wanted him to take the lead. She was irritated with herself but she had completely lost her nerve. It wasn’t just Rick’s belligerent attitude; the waiting room they were sitting in was almost identical to the one she had visited many years before – the same plastic seats, same linoleum floor, same dull walls, same stark overhead lighting, same smell. It was all she could do not to throw her hands in the air and run.

  ‘Okay. We wanted to ask you how you felt when you woke up on Monday morning, before you set off on your solo hike to the priory.’

  ‘How I felt? Well, my first thought was what a bunch of lightweights I had chosen to spend my time with – including the professionals.’ Rick gave Matt a malicious look, almost goading him to retaliate and when he didn’t, he continued. ‘We were there to see the sunrise and if I was the only person organized enough to make sure I was there on time, then hard luck on everyone else. It wasn’t my responsibility to wake everyone up like a mother hen. I intended to take a few fabulous photographs to show Phil, and maybe do a presentation when we got back to Manchester to the club members. To say I’m disappointed that didn’t happen is an understatement.’

  Rick shifted his weight in his wheelchair and Rosie wonder how Matt was able to remain so calm, especially after his next comment.

  ‘I shall be requesting a full reimbursement of the cost of the camping trip from Ultimate Adventures. I trust there will be no problem with that, Matt?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘And I only agreed to meet you today so I could tell you myself that I’ve instructed my solicitor to instigate personal injury proceedings on my behalf. I trust you are well insured?’

  ‘Ultimate Adventures holds all the appropriate certificates and insurances,’ said Matt politely but Rosie could see he had started to grind his teeth in an effort to keep a lid on his emotions. ‘Thank you for your candour. I will inform my insurance company to expect your correspondence.’

  R
osie glanced from one man to the next, amazed that Matt was able to continue to sit next to the man who was clearly relishing every verbal dig. However, she also realized that Rick’s attitude would make it easier for Matt to ask the difficult questions they wanted answers to.

  ‘So, I take it you don’t know anything about the sedative that was found in everyone’s coffee – the reason you were the only one who was able to wake up on time?’

  ‘Sedative? What do you mean? There was no sedative in my coffee.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Hang on! Are you accusing me of spiking everyone’s drink?’

  A dark crimson colour flooded Rick’s face and Rosie could feel his growing fury at the insinuation that he had been responsible. She didn’t have to be an expert in psychology to deduce that he was genuinely shocked at Matt’s question.

  ‘I’m not insinuating anything. I’m simply asking whether you were aware of the fact.’

  ‘This slanderous accusation is just a way of diverting blame from the substandard organization of the wild camping expedition. I…’ As Rosie watched on she could almost see the cogs turning behind Rick’s eyes as his anger morphed into curiosity. ‘Are you telling me that someone drugged you?’

  ‘Yes. Everyone on the trip felt groggy when they woke up apart from you.’

  ‘So … if that’s true, it means this whole thing was organized days, maybe even weeks, in advance!’

  ‘Exactly, and there’s something else you might like to know. A recurve bow and a quiver full of arrows have been discovered hidden in a hollowed-out tree near our camp site which proves the shooting was pre-meditated and that you were the intended victim.’

  ‘I really think the police should have called me about this first! Why should I have to learn about the discovery of the weapon that was used to shoot me from some random stranger?’ Rick spluttered.

  ‘I’m sure the police will contact you,’ soothed Matt in his best conciliatory tone, ignoring the slur on his, albeit strained, relationship with Rick and choosing instead to focus on the questions they had come to ask, especially now they knew for sure that the drugging was linked to the shooting. ‘Now that you know our coffee was spiked, do you still think the person responsible for all this is Phil?’