The Whitby Murders (A Yorkshire Murder Mystery) - J. Ellis (ebook reader with internet browser TXT) 📗

Then he crouched down behind the exhibits staying absolutely still. To a casual glance it looked as if he was inside the case. When Deborah went past he turned his head slowly and put on a grotesque expression with staring eyes.

‘Oh, your face!’ he exclaimed.

Despite being shocked, she had to laugh. ‘You bugger! You really had me there! Oh, it’s a great place for a practical joke, isn’t it? But it could have gone wrong. What if I’d fallen into the glass or had a heart attack?’

‘I don’t think that’s likely and—’ Suddenly his expression changed. Something had moved in his mind again, but no clear idea emerged. ‘Fancy some tea in the café?’ he said.

‘Lovely.’

Later on they went for another meal at the Seagull Café and Oldroyd was rather distracted throughout the evening. On the way back to the hotel Halloween was in full swing with groups of children dressed in ghoulish costumes wandering around supervised by adults. As they knocked on doors their cries of ‘Trick or Treat!’ could be heard again and again. For some reason this chant stayed with Oldroyd and kept him awake far into the night. He felt as if he was on the verge of an insight but it stayed tantalisingly out of reach.

Early next morning, Oldroyd was merging from sleep and his mind was still playing the phrase over: ‘Trick or Treat’ ‘Trick or Treat’ Then: ‘Trick!’ ‘Trick!’ ‘Trick!’

The single word resonated louder and louder, and he sprung awake. His subconscious must have been working overnight. Things had suddenly become much clearer. He flung the duvet back and jumped out of bed.

‘Of course,’ he muttered to himself as he grabbed his phone. ‘That’s what was going on. Why didn’t I realise it sooner? All the evidence was there in front of me if I’d put it all together.’

A very groggy voice answered the phone.

‘Sir?’ It was Andy.

‘Andy! I know it’s early but tell me again what Holgate’s boss told you about Holgate being a joker.’

Andy was in bed, screwing his eyes up against the light. He scratched his head and then shook it to help get his brain into gear. ‘He said Holgate had a good sense of humour and enjoyed practical jokes, like pretending to be stabbed.’

‘And he used a false knife?’

‘Yes, but, sir, we talked about this yesterday. He wasn’t using a trick knife in that escape room; that woman died of stab wounds.’

‘She did, but that’s not incompatible with his use of a trick knife,’ Oldroyd replied enigmatically.

‘What, sir? You’ve completely lost me.’

‘Never mind. I just wanted to confirm what you’d said. Time to get up anyway, you lazy so-and-so, I can tell you’re still in bed. More information later – I think I’m really on to something now.’

‘Okay, sir.’ Andy put the phone down and yawned. He couldn’t understand where his boss was coming from, but he was glad to hear him so upbeat and back to his bumptious self.

Oldroyd made another call. ‘Alice? Yes, it’s Jim Oldroyd. Sorry to ring you so early but the answer has come to me. I know what happened and how those two were murdered in the escape room and I’m pretty sure I know who was responsible. Yes, they were both murdered. It was a clever scheme. I just need to confirm one or two things. Can you meet me in an hour at the station? Excellent. See you there.’

Deborah moaned and turned over. ‘What’s going on, Jim?’ she murmured.

‘I think we’ve got a breakthrough in the case. I have to meet Alice Granger at the station. I’ll see you later.’

‘Okay.’ Deborah pulled the duvet back over herself and went back to sleep.

‘Can you get that video footage up from the CCTV at the escape room? I want to have another look.’ Oldroyd sat next to Granger at her desk at Whitby police HQ while she brought the video up on her computer. He was full of energy and eagerness after the recent lull in the investigation. ‘It’s the bit just after Holgate stabs her.’

Granger fast forwarded through bizarre speeded-up scenes of the group in their goth costumes. She stopped when Holgate ran to the emergency exit which led to the storeroom. Ben Morton was leaning over Andrea at the bottom of the picture. You could see the white dress stained with blood, but their faces were not visible.

‘Right,’ said Oldroyd. ‘You can’t see much because Morton’s in the way . . . and that’s deliberate. I think she was probably whispering something to Morton at this point.’

‘But she’d been stabbed,’ protested Granger. Oldroyd shook his head.

‘No. We found some stomach medicine capsules among Barnes’s things. I think she used them for something. You see, Holgate only stabbed her with a false knife, and then’ – he paused, and the effect was dramatic – ‘Morton used the real thing.’

‘Morton! You think he was the murderer?’ Granger considered this for a moment. ‘Well, that would tie up with what I discovered yesterday about Pesku. She was a student at the Imperial College of Art, where one of her tutors was Ben Morton.’

‘Well, well, at last we’ve got the vital link. What was she doing up here?’

‘As far as we can tell, she came up here for a holiday job.’

‘And if Morton came to see her, he might have got some ideas. Excellent! It’s all fitting together at last.’

‘But what was the motive to kill one of his own friends, sir?’

‘I’m not certain yet and it wasn’t just Barnes. Pesku was the accomplice. I believe she killed Holgate in the storeroom. I have an idea what it was all about, but we urgently need to tell Andy to get some support and go round to arrest Morton. I’m assuming he’s back in London. I’m going to ring Andy now.’

Andy answered after a pause. It was still only eight o’clock in the morning. ‘Morning again, sir. It seems all go today. Has something happened?’

‘Yes, so get yourself moving! I