A quiet night and a rich breakfast later, Lewis and Hathaway are walking out the side entrance to Oaklund Manor, simply because it's closer to Lewis' car than the main entrance. They load their suitcases in the trunk and this time Lewis doesn't have a bad conscience about slamming it shut. He's just about to get into the car when Agnes calls out to him.
"Robbie, wait!"
He turns to look at the smiling cook as she walks up to him. She pushes a piece of paper into his hand and gives him a peck on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, dear. And don't go back to muesli, it's no proper breakfast." She winks at him.
"You take care of yourself, too, Agnes."
"Oh, no worries, dear." She turns and walks back to the manor. Lewis unfolds the paper, glances at it and refolds it before putting it into a jacket pocket.
"What was that about muesli," Hathaway asks as Lewis gets into the car.
"Just a caring soul, Sergeant."
They head straight for the station as Lewis wants to be done with Webster and Alexander and this whole case as soon as possible. It has spoiled enough of his days.
Before the two policemen get a chance to even go to their office, Superintendent Innocent spots them and waves them into her office.
"Would you care to explain to me what's going on? I hear you've got a suspect in custody which I suppose is a good thing. The thing I don't approve of is the complaint of your misbehaviour towards Mr. Alexander that I found on my desk first thing this morning." She looks at Lewis expectantly.
"We have Mr. Webster in custody, Ma'am. We were just about to question him. I don't understand his motive for wanting to kill Mr. Alexander yet, but last night he attacked Hathaway, locked us in and then tried to kill Mr. Alexander for the third time."
"If there were two previous attempts, why did I hear nothing of it? And why didn't you arrest him sooner?"
"We didn't know it was him until last night. But I'd say preventing two attempts of murder was good work."
Innocent has to concede it was. "Well, yes. Still, what's this complaint about?"
"Mr. Alexander probably was suffering from shock, we had just arrested his majordomo in front of his eyes. He might have understood something wrong, Ma'am,"Hathaway interjects in defence of his Inspector. Innocent glares at him for a moment but Hathaway doesn't give anything away, his face a still mask.
"Get out of here and get this case closed."
"Yes, Ma'am." Lewis throws his Sergeant a thankful look as they head out. In their office, a first report from the lab is already on his desk, confirming his suspicion of rat poison in Alexander's drink.
Lewis waves the report triumphantly. "The nail to Webster's coffin."
Hathaway has Webster brought to one of the interrogation rooms, then walks out the door. Lewis, now sitting at his desk, doesn't notice. He's on the phone to have someone go round and check the stain on the stair carpet. Jenny has promised to protect the spot from further disturbance until someone comes to check it out.
By the time he hangs up the phone, Hathaway is back with two mugs of coffee. Lewis smiles contently as his Sergeant places one on Lewis' desk. "Thanks, James." He's glad that his Sergeant is slipping back into his usual behaviour so easily.
"Webster should be up in about five minutes," Hathaway remarks.
"Coffee first, he can wait another five minutes."
Webster looks like a different man. A night in a cell has left his suit rumpled and his hair is standing off in some places as if he has torn it. Lewis takes a seat opposite him, placing a file on the table in front of him. Hathaway remains standing a few feet away.
"Mr. Webster. We have evidence against you. This," Lewis hold up the file he brought along, "is the lab report confirming that the drink you served to Mr. Alexander last night was mixed with rat poison. You assaulted my Sergeant and threatened us with a gun. That alone is enough to put you away for a long time. Maybe we'll never be able to prove you tipped over the flower pot, but I'm certain we'll find traces of rat poison in the stain from where I spilled the drink you wanted me to serve Mr. Alexander two days ago. So I don't care whether you confess, but I am curious – why? Why did you want to kill Mr. Alexander?"
For the first time Lewis sees Webster laugh and it's not a pleasant sight. Or sound. Probably the man doesn't even know how to really laugh, Lewis muses.
"He is about to destroy my work."
"Your work?" Lewis looks at Webster, then Hathaway, but for once his Sergeant seems as much at a loss as he is. "What would that be?"
Webster glares at him. "Oaklund Manor!" His tone of voice says it really should be obvious.
Now Hathaway speaks up. "He's not planning to destroy the house."
Webster sighs. "You don't understand."
"Explain it to us then," Lewis says.
"The house is only a part of Oaklund Manor. The whole place is my work. I've overseen all the work done on it since the old master bought it. The house, the garden, the woods, all my work. And now the off-hand master Philip wants to destroy it. Cut down the woods and build offices! Now what will that mean for the Manor?! You can't do it, it's destroying the place. It's perfect the way it is, I made sure it is. And he just wants to destroy it, ruin it. He's got no respect for my work, never had."
Lewis opens his file and looks at the copies of the threat letters again. "The Oxford Deal, it's all about that? You wanted to prevent it by all means – even murder?" He shakes his head.
"I never cared for master Philip. It's only the Manor that counts. It's my work, my life!" Webster's voice sounds like he's seething with rage, the most emotion Lewis has heard from him yet. But he has heard enough. He gets up from the table and heads for the door. "Have him brought back to his cell."
A couple of days later, Lewis' doorbell rings. He's in his small kitchen, cutting vegetables. He sighs and wipes his hands on a towel before heading for the door.
"Oh, James. Come in."
"Thank you, Sir." Hathaway sniffs the air. "Don't tell me you are cooking? Whatever it is, it smells delicious."
"Well, if you think so – care to stay for dinner? The recipe is for two anyway."
"Thought you'd never ask." He drops his jacket over the back of Lewis' couch before following him into the kitchen where Lewis is studying a hand written note that seems to have been folded at some point. "Do you need help?"
"Nah, it's said to be fool-proof so I think I'll manage. Oh wait – you can open a couple of beers for us."
With a happy smile, Hathaway complies.