by Sonia Parin
No, Abby thought, she wanted to plot out her break-in. Her legs quivered. The first floor looked to be a long way up. She assumed Mitch would lock the gate when he finished. She also assumed Markus would open it up for her.
She followed Mitch along the alleyway. Looking up, she asked, “Where’s my window?”
“The corner.”
“Oh.” She counted the next two windows and went to stand directly below what had been Bert Howington’s room.
Mitch came to stand beside her. “What are we looking at?”
Abby held a finger up, “Hang on.” She answered her cell on the second ring. “Faith.”
“Your mom wants to connect with you,” Faith said.
Abby retrieved her other cell phone. Both Doyle and Mitch looked at her. As she answered, she reached for the bottom of the ladder and pulled it down.
“Oh, you’re out and about,” her mom said.
Abby kept the cell phone pointed at herself. “Hi, Mom. How was your lunch or was it your dinner?” As she listened, she set her foot on the first rung. The distraction worked a treat. Usually, her thighs quivered with anxiety at the prospect of scaling any heights. She felt a twinge, but nothing to really worry about.
“Mitch, what’s Abby up to?” her mom demanded.
“Mom! You can’t put Mitch on the spot.”
“I’d only be putting him on the spot if he had to lie on your behalf.”
Mitch grinned. “Abby’s taking Doyle for a walk, Eleanor.”
Her mom harrumphed. “This looks like an alley.”
Mitch switched on his charm. “That’s because it is. When I saw Abby, I stopped her for a chat, as one does.”
“I see,” her mom said. “Abby has enlisted you as a co-conspirator.”
Chapter Seven
“The tourists must have all gone out the residents’ door. I didn’t see them leave but they’re all at Joyce’s Café,” Abby said as she pushed the door open. “Would you like to catch up with them, Mom?” Abby knew she was tempting fate as any one of them could mention something about the police being at the pub, something that would trigger a barrage of questions Abby wouldn’t know how to answer.
“No, that’s fine. I’d like to spend more time with you, dear.”
And find out what she’d been up to with Mitch, Abby thought. Well, she had some digging of her own to do. Abby headed straight to a table by the window and sat down to study the menu. Doyle, enjoying the special privilege of being the only dog in town allowed inside the café, made the rounds of the tables to soak up some attention.
Abby adjusted the cell phone so her mom could see the table with the tourists.
“I wonder if any of them received cease and desist emails?” Abby asked as she continued to peruse the menu.
“I’m sure Alice did too,” her mom murmured.
“Oh?”
“I caught the tail end of a couple of conversations. She mentioned being strapped for cash and I saw Bert putting his hand over hers as if to reassure her. I think he might have bailed her out.”
Wow. She’d read all that from a simple gesture?
“I also heard her say he was a lifesaver. I think it’s safe to assume Bert offered to help her out.”
“Did she ever say where she knew him from?” Abby asked.
“From way back. I heard her make a couple of reminiscing remarks. You know the type. Do you remember when the four of us... So, I assume she was referring to her husband and Bert’s wife.”
Would Alice bite the hand that fed her? Assuming Bert had offered financial assistance, Alice would not have wanted anything to happen to him.
If not money, what other motive could there be for murder? Jealousy? “You mentioned someone else had been vying for his attention.”
Her mom chuckled. “They all were. Including me. I enjoyed his conversations. I couldn’t help thinking Bert would be a lovely companion sitting by the fireplace on a cold winter night, chatting and…” her mom sighed. “I’ve heard some young people complain how difficult it is to meet someone nice. They have no idea what it’s like when you get older.”
Abby had never heard her mom complain of loneliness. What if she had mentioned something and Abby had missed it?
“It’s silly,” her mom said. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again.”
Abby saw her chance to encourage her mom and took it. “Just think how many more people you’d meet if you traveled.”
“Yes, I have been playing around with the idea.”
Abby crossed her fingers and took this as a good sign. “Are there any wallflowers in the group?” she asked before her mom overanalyzed the idea of traveling. Someone sitting back, listening, watching, waiting… would be an ideal suspect.
“There is one woman.” Abby heard her mom click her fingers. “I’ll have to think about her name. Isn’t that dreadful. She mostly sat back and listened.”
Abby peered over at the table where the tourists had settled and tried to pick out the wallflower. It wasn’t as easy as she’d thought since everyone appeared to be in a somber mood.
“Is it the woman in the pink sweater?” Abby asked.
“Yes. What made you think she’s the wallflower?”
“She’s the only one sitting back. The others are all leaning forward. They appear to engage more easily.”
“Yes, I tried speaking with her but she mostly smiled and nodded. She went to school with Bert and became an accountant too.”
Had she followed that career path because she’d wanted to follow in the footsteps of her dream man?
“Did Bert pay much attention to her?” Abby asked.
“Bert gave everyone the same amount of attention,” her mom offered. “In fact, he made sure to include everyone in the conversations.” Her mom clicked her fingers again. “Cynthia. That’s her name.”
Had Cynthia misunderstood Bert’s attention? Had she come to the realization he hadn’t meant anything by it? Had that driven her to commit a crime of passion, thinking that if she couldn’t have him, then no one else would?
“Ready to order?” Joyce asked as she approached their table. Seeing Abby looking at the tourists, she drew out a chair and sat down. “Let me guess, you’re here to spy on my customers.”
“If I were, I would have sat closer to them.” Abby grinned. “Have you heard anything useful?”
“They’ve been discussing their travel plans and wondering if they should continue with the trip.” Joyce leaned in and whispered, “I heard one say the bus company won’t issue a refund and that Bert would have wanted them to go on. What do you make of that?”
Bert had picked up the tab for the trip. Had Denise Lowe pulled the plug and demanded a refund?
Joyce gave a knowing smile. “You’re thinking the daughter has put a stop to the sponging.”
“How do you know about her?” Joyce hadn’t been anywhere near the pub when Denise Lowe had shown up.
“Never underestimate the power of the Eden grapevine.” Joyce sat back and smiled. “It’s giving the Eden Rise Gazette a run for its money.”
Her mom cleared her throat. “Abby, take me over to the tourist table. I’d like to find out if any of them received cease and desist emails.”
“That woman is asking for trouble,” her mom mused. “She’s tried to get a refund for the tour bus and is threatening to sue them right along with Bert’s friends for abusing his generosity.”
Despite Abby’s concerns, the tourists had been too self-absorbed to mention anything about the police being at the pub.
“Denise Lowe must have money to splurge around on legal fees,” Abby said.
“Well, if she didn’t before, she certainly does now,” her mom remarked. “She’s a beneficiary in the will. Bert confided in Alice. Oh, and he wasn’t just an accountant. He owned a firm. She’ll be getting millions. Whatever Bert spent on this trip is nothing but a drop in the ocean, but she clearly wants every last penny.”
Great, Abby groaned.
The tourists had the perfect motive to kill Denise Lowe but they weren’t investigating her death. Hearing her other cell phone beep, Abby coughed.
“Are you coming down with something?” her mom asked when Abby continued coughing.
“Dust motes,” Abby said. Unfortunately, she said it within Joyce’s hearing.
“Dust motes?” Joyce exclaimed. “Are you suggesting my café is dusty? For your information, I have an air purifier installed.”
“My apologies.” Abby lowered her head in a show of humble submission and smiled. “I guess I nearly choked on a crumb.” That only made it worse as Joyce launched into a diatribe about the health hazard of not swallowing properly. However, it worked in Abby’s favor as her mom turned her attention to Joyce, leaving Abby free to read the text message from Joshua and reply to it.
Denise Lowe had challenged the will because Bert had left a considerable amount of money to all his friends, Abby read. She’d sent everyone an email warning them to not get too cozy with the idea of getting something.
Abby sent Joshua a text asking if he could think of any way to find out if any of Bert’s friends knew beforehand they’d be receiving money from Bert. If he’d spoken about leaving money to his daughter, then he might have mentioned spreading the joy and leaving money to them too, Abby thought. She followed that message with another one telling him to find out if any of them had been experiencing financial difficulties. She also told him about Alice being strapped for cash.
“I hadn’t realized Joyce could be so sensitive,” her mom said.
“It’s all part of the entertainment, Mom. I wouldn’t take her too seriously.” Abby sat back and stared into space. “Mom? What’s the first thing you’d do if you knew you were about to receive a large sum of money?”
“I would probably hire a bodyguard to accompany me on a trip to visit you.”
“What about the average person? What do you think they’d do?”
“Go on a spending spree. Especially if they’d been experiencing financial difficulties. Of course, there would always be an exception. If they’d been experiencing real financial woes and suddenly received a windfall, they might be sensible and engage a financial advisor.”
Abby sent Joshua another text telling him he might want to follow up on that. Maybe someone had already set the ball rolling. While the tourists had spent most of the day in their rooms, they all had access to the Internet…
“Anything else?” Joshua texted back.
Not one to miss an opportunity, Abby sent him another text saying she’d let him know if she thought of anything else.
“The perpetrator wore head to toe black,” Abby said under her breath as she trudged her way along the dark alleyway, making sure to stay as close to the wall as she could to avoid being seen by anyone looking out their windows.
Earlier, Abby had offered to drive her mom around so she could take in more of the sights, but her mom had wanted to return to the pub where she could keep a close eye on Denise Lowe who hadn’t moved away from a corner table. Their return to the pub could not have been timed better. The aroma of Hannah’s baking had been impossible to resist so Abby had indulged in some freshly baked pastries rich with crème patisserie and quince paste.
Bert’s daughter remained in Eden, biding her time at the pub. According to Mitch, she’d demanded a room at the pub but Mitch had been unable… unwilling to accommodate her. Abby’s relief at hearing this had been short-lived as Mitch had told her Denise had managed to book a room at the local bed & breakfast.
“She’s tempting fate,” Abby murmured under her breath. Contesting the will would make a lot of people unhappy. Of course, she was well within her rights, but it seemed petty.
Joshua had been forthcoming with some information about Denise. She lived in one of Melbourne’s most affluent suburbs, her husband headed a large corporation and she wanted for nothing. Except for more of what she already had, Abby thought as she looked up at the first-floor window.
Abby had hoped Markus would be here to hold the ladder for her but he’d assured her the ladder had been bolted against the wall and she would be safe. Besides, the pub had come alive with customers and he had work to do.
“I believe he bailed out at the last minute. So, it’s just you and me, Doyle. Remember, you’re here to keep watch. If anyone approaches, bark once.” She smiled to herself as she suddenly pictured Doyle running for his life and leaving her to face the music.
She took a moment to adjust her belt. “Yes, I admit, this is taking precautions to the extreme.” When she’d told Mitch about her plans, she’d been honest enough to come clean about her fear of heights. After having a good laugh at her expense, he’d suggested using his rock-climbing gear, promising to secure some hooks along each rung for her. She only needed to hitch herself to them as she made her way up. When Mitch had offered her a helmet she had thought it would be too much. However, she’d decided to err on the side of caution. One dizzy spell, one slip of the hand… Yeah, she’d wear the helmet.
Adjusting it, she took a closer look at the ladder and growled. “Are you kidding me?”
Mitch had been having a laugh at her expense. She knew enough about rock-climbing to understand there needed to be a rope…
“Fine. No rope and no hooks equal no climbing.” Yes, but… What if she found new information that could prove useful to Joshua’s investigation?
Abby brushed her sweaty palms against her jeans. She’d have to do this the old-fashioned way, one rung at a time. Gripping a small flashlight between her teeth, she filled her mind with as many thoughts as she could fit in there, including a few nursery rhymes. The distraction worked until she got half way up. Her hands felt clammy. She huffed out several breaths. Her heart pumped hard against her chest. She could do this, so long as she plastered herself against the ladder and held on for dear life.
Heaving herself up another rung, she took a moment to ease her breath out. “Remind me again why I’m doing this?” she asked herself.
“Come on. You’re nearly there.”
“Huh?” Abby looked up and saw Markus leaning out of the window. “What… What are you doing there?”
Markus grinned. “The police officer went home.”
Abby’s mouth gaped open. She felt a scream scramble up to her throat.
“Hey, Abby,” Mitch called out from the ground. “Markus sent me to tell you the police officer went home. The coast is clear. You can go in through the door.”
Abby made the mistake of looking down.
“Don’t look down,” Markus warned.
A bead of perspiration trickled down her forehead, slid along her nose and hung there for a second before falling. Gritting her back teeth, Abby reached up and grabbed hold of the next rung but then she felt a big hand taking hold of her and hauling her up the rest of the way.
“Hello,” Markus gave a throaty chuckle and tapped her helmet. “You did well, young grasshopper.”
She could hear Mitch laughing and knew she’d been well and truly had. “This is about you making your own entertainment,” Abby accused as Markus pulled her through the open window. “Admit it.”
“Do you blame us? Look at you! You’re a regular rock-climbing cat burglar. We’re going to be talking about this for days.”
“You know I could have been seriously injured.”
“You need to embrace the Zen. You’re here now. Safe and sound.”
“No thanks to you.” Abby looked around the room and took a moment to catch her breath. “Has Joshua given Denise Lowe access to the room?”
Markus shrugged. “I’ve no idea. If he contacted her, I’m sure she would have rushed here straightaway.”
Grumbling, Abby wiped her hand along her forehead and got to work. Despite the police doing a thorough search, the room looked the same way it had looked when Joshua had come in to get Bert’s heart medication.
Abby drew out her cell phone. After taking photos of the entire room and everything in it she call
ed Joshua. He answered on the second ring. “Did you guys test the water in the jug?”
“Yes.”
She opened the coffee canister and sniffed it. “What about the coffee?”
“Why are you asking?”
“I’m sitting here at the pub, drumming my fingers. Humor me.”
“Yes to the coffee too.”
“And his medication hasn’t been tampered with?”
“No.”
Somehow, Bert Howington had ingested lethal amounts of digitalis. But how? He’d appeared to have been a happy person, eager to enjoy himself and share his winnings with friends. Could he have sabotaged his own medication? “Were the amounts of foxglove… digitalis found in his system consistent with the amounts required for an overdose… or to significantly slow his heart rate?”
“We’re still waiting for the full lab report but…”
“Joshua. Please spare me the official police statement.”
Joshua’s breath came out in a weary huff. “As I told you, the amounts were disconcerting enough for the pathologist to send samples to Melbourne for further testing. So, I guess my answer is a tentative yes. The digitalis is a contributing factor in his death.”
“So, we’re looking for traces of digitalis,” Abby murmured under her breath. She dug her fingers through her hair and tried to imagine how she would go about introducing the substance into… His food? Just about anything could be reduced to powder form. Maybe someone had carried it around and spiked Bert’s food or drinks. If it could be inhaled, the powder might have been sprinkled on his pillow. “I think I saw someone in his room but I can’t be sure.”
Joshua’s tone hardened. “You wait until now to tell me?”
“As I said, I can’t be sure what I saw. I’d had a couple of beers…”
“Three,” Markus said.
Abby bobbed her head from side to side. “Okay, I had three beers. What with the long flight and long drive, I’m surprised I even made it up the stairs. The person opened and closed the door so quickly, I didn’t get a proper look.”
Mitch strode in with Doyle.