Murder On Bwytheney by Elizabeth. Newby (phonics story books TXT) 📗

I grabbed a seat and picked up a discarded newspaper next to me. It was The Nord Chronicle, the island’s local paper. I cast my eyes upwards for a moment, begging that there wasn't another murder during my brief absence. Unfolding the paper, I saw there were no reports of further deaths. However, there was a small story on the front page about Pete. The autopsy had now been completed, and the time of death had been placed at around an hour or two before I found him. Those “what ifs” started up in my mind again. The cause of death was found to be arsenic poisoning. But police now believed that the cake was delivered to his house earlier in the day and were appealing for witnesses who had seen anyone near the Fisherman Cottages that day.

I already knew that Gregory had lied about the night Melissa died. Now, while I waited for the adoption certificate to arrive, I had to find out where Gregory Albright had been the day Pete was killed. It wouldn’t be easy because the last thing I wanted to do was raise suspicions. Did he have the chance to get hold of one of Emma’s cupcakes after the celebration of life ceremony? Was his car seen driving about the island? Did anyone spot him near those cottages?

As the boat cut its way through the waters, I sat back and closed my eyes. Something else was forming in my mind. It was feeling so crowded in there, though, that I pushed it back down. I knew it would resurface again soon. But it would have to wait until I could lay it all out and try and piece it together. Right now, I was feeling too exhausted.

It felt like it was only a few minutes later that the boat was pulling into Bwytheney’s harbour, and I was disembarking. As I made my way towards Islethorpe and its High Street, I felt as if I was holding my breath, waiting for someone to announce another murder. But there was a calmness. The sun was high in the sky, and the smell of roast dinner wafted in the air. It was just before I turned into Caz’s street to collect Shadow that I saw him. Gregory Albright was boldly heading in my direction.

"Hi, Cara, not seen you for a bit. Been away?”

“Oh, I visited a friend in Manchester.”

“Nice, I trust you had a good time?”

“Yes, thanks. What are you up to on this fine Sunday?” As I spoke, I found my eyes scanning over his appearance, trying to spot something out of place. A spot of blood. A pulled thread. A sense of guilt. He didn't look like a man who could have killed two people and who was perhaps planning a third attack.

“Where else would I be headed on a Sunday? It’s crib club at the village hall. You really should give it a go.”

“I’ll pass, thanks, not really my thing.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Sure. I’ve got to go. Shadow’s waiting for me.”

“Of course, see you later.”

And like that, he was gone, leaving my carefully planned theory threatening to fall.

Chapter 18

As I put my key in the door with Shadow now at my side, I heard a voice inside.

“Hello?”

“Pam? It’s me, Cara. I’m back.”

"Thank god. What's this all about? I was in the bath, having a soak and got out to your message. It terrified me."

“I’m sorry if I frightened you. And I’m not sure that there is anything to worry about now, but I couldn’t be sure.”

“How about a cup of tea? I’ve got the kettle on. Then you can tell me what all this is about.”

“That would be great.”

I put my bag down and went and sat at the table Pete had made me. It was weird to think his craftsmanship had outlasted him, and it was strange to have someone else making tea in my house. I was tired, though, and happy to let Pam make herself at home. It was my fault she was here scared out of her wits.

“How was your trip? Did you find what you needed?”

“I did. Remember how you were kind enough to share the details of Melissa’s child?”

“Yes…”

"Well, I interviewed Pete not long ago, and it turns out he was adopted. I went to find him on the adoption register. His birth matches up. Although they don't give you the exact date of birth. We'll have to wait for the certificate to arrive, but—"

“But what? Sorry, I don’t follow.”

“I think Pete was Melissa’s child. I think that he came to this island looking for her. He lost his adoptive parents a few years ago, and I guess he decided to try and find her.”

“What? No, she would have told me. And what’s that got to do with someone killing them both? It doesn’t make sense.”

"On the day of the murder, I saw a local driving off from Melissa's, and he was not in a good mood. Apparently, he wanted to buy the campsite from Melissa, and she said no. Don't worry, I have told the police all this. Anyway, it was bugging me, so I started looking into him. I came across a load of dodgy stuff. And this weekend, my friend Dan discovered that this guy and his business partner had planning permission for a holiday park rejected. We think that’s what he wanted to buy the campsite for and that he’ll pay off the right people to make sure it goes through this time.”

“But what’s this got to do with Pete?”

“Well, perhaps this person found out that Pete was back on the scene. You did say he was mentioned in the will. If they thought he could inherit the campsite…”

Pam got up and walked over to the window sipping her tea. “Is it enough of a motive, do you think? For two murders?”

"Greed,"