Read Two Birds with One Stone (A Marsden-Lacey Cozy Mystery Book 1) Online
Authors: Sigrid Vansandt
“Of course. Thank you for coming all this way.”
Johns left Rose Bungalow with something he hadn
’
t had before: a motive for murder.
THE DAY WAS PERFECT. RAINY, cloudy, and cold. Martha and
Helen spent the morning working out the structure of their new working
relationship. Since Helen’s divorce, she had been trying to do the job of three
people.
Martha was a perfect fit. With years of experience managing
people, she was organized, detail-oriented and a trifle on the compulsive side.
Keeping clients happy, doing research until late into the night, and creating
tidy case files made her a favorite among the attorneys she worked for. In her
last job she had become the firm
’
s senior paralegal, which
meant she managed the other paralegals to make sure they were following
protocol.
The girls felt good about their new venture and with a new
client to see about, they were busy. Helen suspected now that Louis Devry was
gone, their work at The Grange would be at least a six-month project and a
follow-up project at Healy might require her to relocate temporarily to
Marsden-Lacey.
With much to consider and discuss, they chatted happily the
entire way to Healy. The weather was delicious. Neither woman had regretted
staying in England after their mates were gone. Even on days that required a
wrap or a raincoat and wellies, there was always a warm pub or cottage fire to
retreat to. There, they could enjoy a warm scone with clotted cream and a hot
cup of strong tea.
This particular rainy day, they would be having tea at Healy
House. Piers promised Mrs. Thyme would make it herself which meant it would not
only be beautiful to see but delicious as well. Needless to say, they were
excited. Their conversation turned to Helen’s and Piers
’
t
ê
te-
à
-t
ê
te the other
night while Martha was sleeping.
“I think he
’
s a big flirt, Helen.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“True. Tread lightly around that one. He
’
s
used to having women throw themselves at him.”
Martha shifted the Mini into fourth gear. The Green Bean zipped along
between hedgerows and stone walls with windshield wipers beating out a soft,
sleepy tune.
“Don
’
t worry, I
’
m not sure having another man in my life is what I want right
now anyway. He is charming, but,”
Helen shrugged her shoulders, “he might be too much too soon.”
Martha considered Helen
’
s point. A
sheep farmer and his dog were working hard to corral a flock of sheep down in a
pasture. The rain had slowed slightly into a mist.
“I always enjoyed the game, Helen, but after Martin died I
didn
’
t even consider seeking a new relationship. Kate came
first and I wanted to raise her. Besides, I loved Martin Littleword and he
would be a hard act for any man to follow. I understand where you
’
re
coming from. No more teasing from me, if you like.”
“I like.”
Helen smiled at Martha. “Besides, if he
’
s a flirt,
then I
’
m going to practice my hand at it. Goodness knows,
I deserve to play a bit. Right?”
“Right.”
The road started to rise over a hill and once at the top,
the view stretching out below them was delightful. There in the valley sat
Healy with the river running along its left-hand side. They could make out
smoke coming from one of the chimneys.
“We
’
re going to have a fire,”
Martha said with
joy. “It
’
s a perfect day for it. Isn
’
t
it, Helen?”
“Good thing you like the cold.”
Helen shivered. “Good thing I brought
my big sweater.”
In another five minutes they had brought the car to a
gravel-crunching stop right at the front steps of Healy.
As they ascended the front stairs, Martha turned to Helen
and said with a wink, “Not a bad place to be queen, huh?”
“Nope,”
Helen answered, “not bad at all.”
Helen and Martha didn
’
t know it, but
they weren
’
t alone. Someone was watching from a second
story bedroom window. That someone saw Martha
’
s wink and
heard their playful conversation. Their observer wasn
’
t
amused, not in the least.
JOHNS NEEDED TO SEE COUSINS to talk with him about what he
learned from Devry’s mother. He initially tried calling the house number
Cousins gave him, but there wasn’t any answer so he left a message. For now, he
would stop by the station and pick up one of the constables. They would go
together to Healy and wait for Cousins, if they had to.
His phone rang. It was a number he didn
’
t
recognize, but he answered it. “
Hello?
”
“Is this the Chief Inspector?”
a woman asked.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“I
’
m Mr. Cousins
’
personal
secretary. He wanted to let you know he will be out this afternoon for a
business meeting at The Grange. If you would like to arrange a meeting for
tomorrow, I
’
m to help arrange an appointment.”
“Thank you, I would. What time works for Mr. Cousins? I
would like to talk with him today instead of tomorrow,”
Johns said gruffly.
“Today won
’
t work. After his meeting,
he
’
ll be going to Leeds to meet with his solicitor.
Tomorrow morning is the earliest time available.”
Johns sighed irritably.
“Fine. How does
nine a.m. sound?”
“Perfect. We
’
ll see you then. Thank
you, Chief Inspector.”
Johns hung up. He knew how to see Cousins. He would go to
The Grange and wait for him. He thought dryly how lovely it must be to have
people managing your every problem. Cousins was going to answer for this
problem on his own.
Rain started hitting his windshield.
“Bloody rain,”
he grumbled. He slowed down a minuscule amount. He had every intention
of catching Cousins at The Grange.
CONSTABLE WATERS WAS TIRED OF Sam
’
s
constant whining and requests for his mobile phone. Earlier that day Johns had
given the okay for Donna to let Sam earn opportunities to use his phone by
showing good behavior. Donna went back to his cell and studied the scraggly
young teenager.
“Sam, how old are you?”
she asked.
“Seventeen. Why?”
he asked sullenly.
“Want some advice about women?”
“Not really. You
’
re probably going to
say the same thing as my aunt.”
He poked the tip of his boots between the spokes of one of the chairs in
his cell.
“Stop, messing with the chair,”
Donna said in her no-nonsense tone
which made him pull his toe out of the spokes but then roll his eyes.
“You
’
re the one who tried to mug Martha
in the marketplace last week?”
“Yeah, I needed some money. Penny says I
’
m
always broke.”
“Thought of getting a job, Sam? There are other ways to get
money than mashing women in the street.”
“Mashing? I
’
m the one who got mashed.
That crazy old woman nearly killed me.”
Donna couldn
’
t hold back a smile,
thinking of Martha teaching Sam a good lesson. She tried a new approach. “What
if I helped you with Penny? She might give you a second look and not marry Jeffrey,
if she thought you were making an effort.”
Sam sat up on his cot. “Like what?”
“A bath wouldn
’
t hurt for starters and
if you know how to use a shaver, you might consider a fresh face. A lot of
women enjoy seeing a man
’
s whole face.”
She smiled brightly
while hoping at the same time he wouldn
’
t hear the touch
of sarcasm in her voice. “You might be a nice-looking kid somewhere under
there.”
“
Well, I don
’
t
know. I like my style.”
Donna stifled a guffaw and considered saying something about
his “style”
but
thought better of it. Instead she tried a different tactic. “Want your phone
back for an hour?”
The boy bolted off his cot and grabbed the bars in his door.
“Now you
’
re talking my language. How do I get the phone?”
“Take a bath, shave your face and put on some decent
clothes,”
she
said firmly with a stoic expression.
For ten seconds neither Sam nor Donna broke their eye
contact. Eventually, the teenager caved to the mother of two small boys.
With more drama than any fifteen-year-old girl could have
managed, Sam flung himself on the bed and said huffily, “Okay. I
’
ll do it.
”
“
Good. I
’
ll get
Constable Cross to take you to the showers. I want you to do a smart job on
yourself, Sam, otherwise no phone.”
More eye rolling and an under-the-breath, “Fine.”
It took an hour but what emerged under Constable Cross
’
tutelage was worthy of an episode of “My Big Juvenile Delinquent
Makeover.”
Sam
was actually a handsome young man. Both Donna and Constable Cross told him
Penny was missing out if she didn
’
t come around.
All this positive affirmation brightened Sam
’
s
mood considerably and he was soon ready for his phone call. Donna took his
picture with his phone and Sam sent it via text message to Penny. The two
constables kept their fingers crossed and said a few prayers in hope that Penny
would respond favorably. While he waited, Sam was allowed to pace the reception
area.
A phone rang but it wasn
’
t Sam
’
s. Donna answered the phone.
It was Johns. “Waters, I
’
m here at The
Grange. I know we
’
re short-staffed but who is on duty
besides you?”
“Cross.”
“Ok, I want you to meet me here at The Grange. I may need to
be in more than one place at a time today.”
Sam was still pacing the floor and Donna got an idea. “Chief,
could I bring Sam? I want to let him see the other side of the coin so to
speak.”
“Rehab, huh Waters? Fine. Tell him I chipped him in his
sleep so he won
’
t try and escape again. If he does, it
’
s on your head.”
“Absolutely. We
’
ll see you in ten
minutes,”
Donna
said. “Come on Sam. You
’
re going with me.”
“Where to, Boss?”
Sam asked.
“Not your concern, son. Might need some help with this job
for Chief. Thought you could come along. By the way, Chief says if you try and
make a break for it, he
’
ll hunt you down and make you do
civic work cleaning the sides of the canal dredger. Understand?”
Sam heaved a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Let
’
s go then,”
Donna said and tossed him one of the
rain jackets the constables wore when on duty. “Put this on. It looks like
rain.”
MARTHA AND HELEN WERE MET at the door by Sarah, Mrs. Thyme
’
s right-hand girl. All smiles and dimples, she was happy to see
them and invited them in, out of the rain.
“Hi, Sarah. We
’
re here to see Mr.
Cousins. He invited us to tea and to take a look at his library,”
Helen said.
“Oh? I
’
m sorry. He isn
’
t
back yet. He went to Leeds today, I think,”
Sarah said. “Will you please come in, though? I
’
m
sure he will be back soon. Tea should be ready in about an hour. Would you like
to look at the library first?”
Helen and Martha looked at each other confused.
“Sure. That will be fine,”
Helen said.
Sarah asked them to follow her. They walked into the warm,
wood-paneled hall. So much had happened here. The misty weather outside made
the room so much more welcoming because a fire was laid in the enormous
fireplace. It snapped and crackled cheerfully. With the warmth of the fire, all
the ghosts from the other night were gone.
Soon they reached the library. As the door swung open to
receive them, they couldn
’
t help but flash back to the
night when Piers was shot and Martha was pushed down the stairs.
“If you need me, I
’
ll be in the kitchen
helping Senior Agosto. He’s leaving soon and he
’
s in a
foul temper. Will you be staying for dinner?”
Sarah asked.
“Not sure, but it
’
s
doubtful,
”
Martha
said with a warm smile for the young girl.
“Okay. Make yourself at home.”
Sarah went over to one of the interior walls of the room
where bookshelves lined the wall. She pulled a lever built cleverly into the
shelf
’
s edge. There was a muffled click and she pushed her
way through a panel like one would a door. She smiled at them, and then
disappeared, the panel realigning itself like it hadn
’
t moved
in four hundred years.
Alone in the room, Martha turned to Helen and said, “
Strange don
’
t you think? Piers not being
here, I mean? Did we get the day wrong? Maybe he meant for us to come tomorrow.”
“Uh, maybe.”
Helen said without taking her gaze off the secret door in the bookshelf.
“But did you see how Sarah left the room? I want to sneak a peek in there.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about the secret passage. I saw Piers
open the bookshelf on the day of the tennis tournament and dinner party,”
Martha said.
Helen walked over to the bookcases and inspected the place
where Sarah disappeared. “This must be a quicker way to the kitchen. Hm…no
matter. Let
’
s get to work. Piers will show up and probably
be all apologies. Might get a yummy dinner out of it.”
“Sounds good to me,”
Martha said. “Where do we start?”
“With the collection records. I want to do an inventory
first. We need to make sure everything he thinks is here is really here. That
will take us days if not weeks from the look of things. We may have to pull
double duty for a while. Is that okay?”
“Are you kidding, Helen? Some days I have to pinch myself to
make sure I
’
m not just dreaming living in this country and
these kinds of places are our office? Let
’
s get to work.”
Helen found a shelf which housed nine slender volumes
labeled “Inventory.”
Taking
the first one down and delicately going through the pages, she realized how
right she was about the time frame. Their work was cut out for them.
After about an hour and a half of one person calling out a
title and another person locating it, Helen looked up and said, “I
’
m kind of hungry. How about you?”
“Hey. Let
’
s go down to the kitchen and
see if Agosto will let us have a cup of tea. We can take the back entrance.”
Martha pointed with
a bright, sly smile at the secret door in the bookshelves.
Helen
’
s eyes got wide like a child
given permission to play hide-and-seek in an old, rambling house. “Do you think
we can get it to open?”
“I bet I can do it. Let me see.”
Martha walked over to the area followed by Helen. There in
the bookshelf they could see the hidden latch and the door where Sarah had made
her unconventional exit.
“Here
’
s the latch. All we have to do is—”
Like a crash of thunder, a terrific noise ripped through the
room. Helen groaned and fell to the floor. Martha reacted instinctively and
crouched down next to Helen. Luckily they were behind
Piers
’
massive oak desk.
Helen was shot, but the bullet only grazed her upper arm.
She blinked at Martha and signaled she was okay. Martha could feel panic
starting to rise within her.
Martha lifted her head in an attempt to see, but she nearly
lost it. At that very instant another horrific bang sent papers flying off
Piers
’
desk, filtering down like leaves to rest on top of the girls.
“Help!”
they both screamed.
Like a mind-numbing slap to their brains, someone started
laughing. It was the laugh from the night they were being stalked at The
Grange. It was a woman
’
s laugh but it was metallic like it
was coming from a machine.
“You know,”
it said, “there isn
’
t anyone here. Just us girls
tonight. I
’
ve got a change of plans. I promise not to shoot
but I need you to stand up. We
’
re going for a short walk.”
Helen and Martha were in a death grip holding on to each
other behind the desk. They looked frantically at one another. Helen shook her
head in a frenzied manner to indicate she wasn
’
t about to stand
up.
Martha yelled out, “You must be crazy if you think we
’
re going to stand up so you can shoot us!”
“Dear, if I wanted you dead right now, you would already be
so,”
the
weirdly feminine voice said. “I needed to get your attention. Don
’
t
make me come over there or I
’
ll be happy to place my next
bullet somewhere to make you more compliant.”
Martha considered the offer for a second, but then thought
better of it.
“Okay. We
’
ll stand up but give us a
moment. Helen is hurt.”
Martha pointed to the latch on the bookcase shelf.
With a nod to Martha, Helen jumped up and grabbed the latch.
Martha pushed the door and they scrambled through as two more gunshots exploded
behind them.
Martha slammed the secret door shut and looked for something
to jam it. Someone was working the mechanism from the outside and cursing them
in a muffled voice. Helen pointed at an old floorboard propped up against the
wall. Martha grabbed it and wedged it between the door and the wall.
Helen asked, “Which way do we go?”
They looked around. There was a passage with stairs going up
on the right hand side but there was also one that went behind the stairs and
appeared to stay on their present level.
“
I don
’
t want to
go up. We might not be able to get down again and then out of the house. Let
’
s take the one going behind the stairs,”
Martha said. “Wait. I want to wrap
your arm first.”
Martha took off her T-shirt and ripped it along the bottom.
She tied the make-shift bandage around Helen
’
s arm. She
pulled it snug, putting pressure on the wound and slowing the bleeding. Then
she quickly put her shirt back on and they headed along the left-hand route.
They scurried down the tight passage coming to several
potential exits. Martha tried each door handle eagerly only to have their hopes
dashed when, one after another, the doors were either locked or appeared stuck
from years of disuse.
After about five desperate minutes of walking, they noticed
the passage was increasingly filled with bulk food items stacked on both sides.
They must be nearing the kitchen. Then the moment they had been dreading
arrived. There was only one more bend before the end of the passage.
“She might be waiting for us,”
Martha whispered.
Helen didn
’
t move. “Let
’
s
go back the other way then.”
“What if she
’
s back in there somewhere
following us?”
Martha
pointed down the dark passage behind them.
“Oh dear God. We
’
ve got to get to a
phone.”
Martha tried to get her mind to focus. “Okay. Okay. Okay.”
She pressed both
hands against her forehead. “Let
’
s get down on our knees
and I
’
ll peek around again. If it
’
s
definitely the kitchen, there
’
s surely an exit. Get down
and stay down till I say otherwise.”
Martha, with her head low to the floor, edged one eye around
the corner. At the end of the passage, she could see a lit corner of the kitchen.
No one was in the corridor so she motioned for Helen to follow her and they
crawled towards the opening and the feeble kitchen light.
PIERS MADE IT THE ENTIRE way to Leeds from Healy in less
than an hour. He pulled up to the front door of his solicitor
’
s
office and jumped out of his car, running up the stairs.
He was absolutely ecstatic because his solicitor
’
s paralegal called saying there was a breakthrough in his child
custody case. The woman on the phone asked him to come for an appointment that
afternoon.
Casey, the firm
’
s receptionist, gave
him a big smile when she saw him come through the door. “Hello, Mr. Cousins.
How are you today?”
“I
’
m doing well, Casey, thank you. I
hope I made it in time to see Phillip. Drove like a madman to get here,”
Piers said with a
bright smile.
Casey looked slightly confused but she checked her computer
and asked Piers to please give her a moment.
Piers sat down.
Phillip Westmorland
’
s
voice boomed through the back hallway. Phillip and Piers attended Oxford
together. Afterwards, they spent three years traipsing around Australia and
California hitting every surfing beach they could find.
“What
’
s this all about, Cousins? Heard
you came all the way to Leeds to take me to dinner? You
’
re
not my idea of a hot date though,”
Westmorland said with a laugh.
Piers looked perplexed. “I
’
ll take you
to the Ritz, if you want. You deserve it.”
Westmorland shrugged egotistically. “Well, I am one hell of
a guy.”
“Damn right you are. I got the call from your paralegal and
she said you had a breakthrough in our suit today. What happened?”
A thrilled Piers
waited expectantly for the good news.
Westmorland
’
s faced screwed up into
that intense, penetrating attorney
’
s stare. “Come with me,
Piers.”
He
guided Piers into his office and offered him a seat, asking Casey to bring them
something to drink.
“I
’
m sorry Piers, but there’s no change
in our suit. Who called you? What did they say, exactly?”
Piers sighed. It was like someone punched all the air out of
him. For a brief second he was angry but he bit his lip and answered, “Uh, she
said she was your paralegal and you needed me to come for an appointment this
afternoon.”
“
Give me a moment, Piers.
”
Westmorland picked
up his desk phone and called his paralegals.
Over the next five minutes, Westmorland spoke with every
paralegal in his office. They all denied calling Piers. He thanked each in turn
and hung up.
Both men considered the situation quietly and then
Westmorland spoke.
“Piers, it occurs to me that someone wanted you out of your
house today. I think you should call the police. Sounds like a burglary setup.”
He offered Piers
the telephone on his desk. “Better have it checked out.”
Acutely angry, Piers picked up the phone and dialed the
Marsden-Lacey police station. Constable Cross answered.
“This is Piers Cousins and I think it may be necessary to
have an officer go over to Healy and check things out. I received a call from
someone pretending to be from my solicitor
’
s office
requesting that I come to Leeds. The appointment was bogus.”
Constable Cross replied, “You
’
re in
Leeds? Odd. Chief Inspector Johns is waiting for you at The Grange, Sir. I
’
ll call the Chief and he
’
ll return your
call. What is your number?”