Chapter Fifteen – Clues To A Mystery
It was turning late as Oscar Blaketon put down the phone back in the post office. He had a cunning look on his face as he moved over to relieve Gladys at the counter. "Why don't you go home half an hour earlier today Gladys?" he suggested kindly.
The woman, in her mid-fifties, gave him a bright smile. "Are you sure, Mr. Blaketon?" she asked.
He nodded. "I can manage, you go and come in early tomorrow morning," he said.
"Thank you, that makes things so much easier, I'll pick up my grandson at the nanny and head home," she said happily.
"You do that," Oscar returned, willing for the gossiping woman to leave. If he was right Alf and Mike would arrive at the doorstep any minute now.
Just as Gladys left the door opened and the two police constables walked in.
"I don't know which one of you is the oldest?" Oscar let on with a slight tease in his sharp voice as Mike grimaced. "How are you Mike?"
"A bit sore," he admitted as the former sergeant gesticulated for them to follow him into the back of the post, to his small office.
"Anything interesting?" Alf asked curiously, taking a seat.
Oscar sat down opposite him and handed over a file sitting on the desk. "Mary McMara," he said triumphantly. "That's the young woman's name."
Alf and Mike looked at each other and then at Oscar expectantly. "She's the grandchild of Joshua Robinson, the man who once owned Hillsdale Farm," he explained. "A bit of a trouble maker from what I've heard, when she was younger. Her parents died when she was five and she was brought up down in Leeds by her auntie."
Alf nodded. "She got her auntie in at the old folks home," he stated. "She took care of the car registered to her auntie."
"It was a MG-TF," Alf added shifting focus from Oscar to Mike. "Quite rare and expensive."
"The question is; what was she doing up there that night when Greengrass spotted the car?" Mike asked.
"Greengrass?" Oscar asked sarcastically. "What was he doing up there? Poaching on the lordship's land?"
Alf ignored the remark as he leaned forward in the chair. "Unfortunately that doesn't get us very far," he said gloomily.
OOOOOO
DI Shiner jumped slightly at the shrill of the telephone as he was sitting behind Nick's desk, engrossed in a file. Annoyed at the interruption he reached for the mouthpiece.
"DI Shiner," he said in a crisp voice.
"DC Nott, sir," the man in the other end introduced himself. "We have turned the place upside down. There are no records about a deceased intern called Denny Jones present, sir."
Shiner pursed his lips into a thin line of displeasure, hearing the bad news. "That is impossible," he replied seriously.
"It should be. The pathologist working at the time left the service over a year back. We are trying to track him down to see if he can confirm…"
"This is serious," Shiner interrupted sternly. "Before you talk to him, if you manage to track him down, you'll run a complete check on any relations to the Jones's family."
"Are there suspicions of foul play, sir?" the DC asked curiously.
The line went silent for a while before the superior CID officer spoke again, this time in a low voice. "Heads will roll at this, DC Nott. If my suspicions are correct," he let on cryptically, ending the call.
OOOOOO
Phil Bellamy grimaced at the sound of his colleague's ringing phone and turned to look further down in the corridor, at the door to the gents. Just as he was about to answer Alf came around, snatching the phone in front of him.
"Where have you been?" Phil mouthed suspiciously.
"Ashfordly Police Station," Ventress said, ignoring the question.
Phil sourly looked at his older colleague as Alf sat down heavily on his chair opposite him. Then curiosity won over annoyance as Alf hastily began to take notes, scribbling on the backside of a folder.
"What is it?" Phil asked as Alf put down the phone.
"That was the stock broker calling about Hillsdale Farm. Apparently…," Alf trailed off in his explanation as Mike came walking from the corridor, rubbing his aching forehead. "Mike, you should hear this," he said with a wan smile.
Phil turned around to see Mike appearing behind him, out of uniform, since he was not yet on active duty.
Bradley frowned wearily as he slipped in behind his desk.
"Hillsdale Farm shifted owner last month from the old sister to the young granddaughter, Mary McMara," Alf said triumphantly.
"Mary McMara?" Phil echoed in disbelief. "When I went through the files from CID about the toy business down in Pickering, her name came up as a part owner."
Mike straightened in his chair, his interest peaking. "So, there's a connection between the owner of Hillsdale Farm, the toy company and the crates?" he said. "Not to mention the antiques gang," he added with a ghost of a smile.
OOOOOO
Nick looked up from where he was sitting comfortably in the armchair, next to a sparkling fire, as Kate walked through the door.
"I'm sorry, love, it took much longer than I anticipated," she apologized as she placed her medical bag on the floor and draped her wool coat over it. "That last house call…" she trailed off and rubbed her forehead as she walked over to him and sat down at the edge of the chair to lean in on him.
Nick couldn't help but to smile amusedly as she let her head come to rest on his shoulder. He gently draped an arm around her, to squeeze her shoulder. "It's okay, I've just barely managed to get off shift myself," he admitted. "I'm just trying to appear casual, like I've been sitting here for hours."
Kate raised herself up and gave her husband an incredulous glare before reaching for a pillow and gave Nick a good whack on the head. She continued to have a go at him, the pillow landing on his face with a soft thud, until his steady arms reached out for hers and twisted the pillow out of her grip. They stared at each other for a moment before they leaned into one another, ending the fight with a kiss.
"So, how did it go?" Nick finally asked as Kate straightened where she sat on the arm of the armchair.
"Did the estate agent contact you?" he asked curiously.
She nodded cunningly.
"Well, don't keep me waiting," Nick encouraged, smitten by her smile.
"It's ours, if we want it," she let on happily. "If we can afford it."
"Do you want it?" he asked softly. "Or do you want to move to York?" he added, hoping she'd not take the offer made by her friend Sally back at Ashfordly General Hospital, to become a partner in a larger clinic.
Kate sighed, the smile vanished from her face and she appeared thoughtful for a moment. "I would be lying to you if I said I hadn't considered it," she admitted sincerely.
Nick nodded and fixed his eyes on the sparkling fire, looking sombre, sad almost.
"Hey," Kate began and reached out with her hand to lift up his chin, forcing him to focus on her once again. "I have considered it and kindly but firmly declined the offer. I've become too attached to this place; thanks to you," she finished with a light tease.
The corner of Nick's lips turned slightly upward with a quirk. "I sense a but coming," he said.
"How do we pay for the house?" she asked gloomily.
"We'll think of something, Kate, don't worry," he assured her.
OOOOOO
Doctor Neil Bolton kindly showed Jo Rowan into an office at the Ashfordly General Hospital. He saw the puffed cheeks and the rimmed eyes, unable not to feel sympathy for her. He could only imagine what he would have felt if it had been Maggie in that bed those years ago when they were still functioning as husband and wife.
"Mrs. Rowan," he began seriously, for there was no other way to say what he was going to say, "I'm afraid I haven't got any good news."
Jo looked up at him from where she had taken a seat, opposite his desk. She swallowed but didn't say anything, just waited for him to continue.
"I would have hoped that we could have had some life signs by now. For every day that passes the chance of him ever to wake up again is becoming smaller. I'm sorry to have to say this to you but that is the truth," he said apologetically.
She nodded, fighting hard to keep her emotions under control. "I appreciate the honesty, Doctor Bolton," she managed.
"Please, do not give up hope just yet," Neil felt the need to say.
"I haven't," Jo said quickly. "I…just want him back with me. It's so frustrating to see him and talk to him…touch him and not get any kind of response," she explained as she looked around the room, not quite able to face him. "He's right there in front of me, yet so far away."
Neil remained quiet, not sure what to say. There was nothing he could say to make it better, nothing truthful anyway. "Go home, Mrs. Rowan, and get some rest," he finally said.
OOOOOO
To be continued
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