‘When Blacknote Developments wanted to build six luxury houses on plots purchased from homeowners who were willing to sell part of their back gardens, the Planning Committee were split on the proposal and in deadlock, so Mayor Carter had the deciding vote and turned the proposed development down. You have since revised the plans to build six luxury bungalows instead of houses and the resubmitted plans will be voted on tonight.’

  ‘Are you really saying that we’d want to get rid of Mayor Carter because he’s against any development in that part of Muddlebay? The idea is preposterous.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying, Mr Black. But there’s one other piece of the puzzle that I haven’t told you about yet.’

  Both Mr and Mrs Black leaned towards Flynn, seemingly keen to hear his final piece of evidence. ‘I know Mrs Black borrowed a book on poisons from the library,’ he finished with a flourish.

  ‘You must be mad! Why would I do that? Why would I want to kill anyone?’ Judith Black cried, looking from her husband to Flynn and back. ‘John? What is he talking about? I don’t understand!’ she said and started crying.

  Flynn was very pleased to have provoked a reaction from Judith Black, as well as from her husband, who was on his feet and looming over Flynn. However, Flynn wasn’t about to be intimidated by a suspect and continued with his interview.

  ‘I’ve been wondering why you did it, Mrs Black? Why you tried your hardest to help get the planning permission? Is it because you like the money the company brings in? You didn’t want the flow of cash to dry up? You enjoy your shopping trips too much, don’t you?’

  ‘Now I really think you’re mad,’ she retorted, drying her tears. ‘We’re upstanding and well-respected members of this community and what you’re suggesting is outrageous.’

  Flynn kept quiet, sat back, and watched the couple’s reactions.

  Judith Black pulled on her husband’s arm and he sat back down again. They looked to each other for support and Black put his arm around his wife. The niggling thing was that Flynn didn’t think they were lying to him with their denials. Their expressions and body language signalled confusion, fear, and bewilderment and then finally anger. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure the Blacks were telling the truth.

  Flynn was startled out of his reverie by a motorbike revving outside the house and then the back wheel spitting gravel as it raced off. This time it was Flynn who stood. Looking out of the window he caught sight of it being ridden away.

  He whirled around. ‘Who was that?’

  ‘It’s only our son,’ said John.

  ‘Does he work in the firm?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘What is his job?’ Flynn demanded.

  Black frowned but said, ‘He obtains any planning permission we need.’

  Judith Black nodded in agreement with her husband.

  ‘Is he good at it?’

  ‘Very. He’s not let me down yet. It’s quite a complex process, but training Ollie up has saved us a lot of money as we no longer need to use a professional planning advisor and town planning consultancy. They charge ridiculous fees. So Ollie gained experience as a Local Government Town Planner first and then came to work for the family firm. Bringing his valuable skills and contacts with him.’

  Flynn wondered how Ollie had managed to not let his father down yet. What backroom deals had the boy been doing? Flynn scratched his face and then went cold. Dear God, what had he got wrong? Then it came to him.

  ‘Mrs Black, where’s your library card?’

  ‘In my purse, it’s just here.’

  She leaned over the side of the settee, retrieved her handbag, picking her purse out of it. She opened the purse and then said, ‘Oh, it’s gone! Where on earth could it be?’

  She began rifling through her purse, then her handbag.

  ‘It’s not here! I always keep it in my purse for when I pop into town.’

  It was then Flynn realised he had made a terrible mistake and fled the house. As he ran to his car Mr and Mrs Black called out to him, but he ignored them and threw himself inside and turned on the engine. As he drove, he tried repeatedly to call Mabel’s mobile but without success. She simply wasn’t picking up.

  Chapter 24

  Mabel had just settled herself next to her friend, patted the hand of the patient and put her bag of grapes on top of the patient’s locker, when another person joined them at the bedside.

  ‘Oh, Ollie, how nice to see you,’ said Mrs Prior. Turning to Mabel she explained, ‘Ollie was at school with our son, you know. Stayed firm friends, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, and I hope I’m a close friend of the family, not just of Cameron’s.’

  ‘Oh, of course, you are.’

  ‘How’s Mr Prior doing?’ asked Ollie. ’I was passing, and thought I’d just pop in. I’d heard about him being in hospital, so I wanted to pass on my regards and best wishes for a speedy recovery.’

  ‘The doctor said the operation went well, so fingers crossed, eh?’

  ‘Indeed. Look, ladies, why don’t you go and grab a coffee? I’ll sit with Mr Prior a while,’ he offered. ‘He’s sleeping anyway, so I’m sure he won’t miss you.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Ollie. Come on, Mabel, I’ve been dying for a coffee for an hour or more.’

  ‘Oh, do you think we should?’ said Mabel, not wanting to leave her post and upset Flynn.

  ‘Please, Mabel, don’t be difficult, come on,’ and Mrs Prior scraped back her chair and stood, clearly determined to get her coffee.

  Thinking quickly, Mabel realised she could sit in the café which was next to the main doors and see everyone coming and going. It was the best she could do under the circumstances and still keep a vigilant eye out for the man Flynn was expecting to appear. So she followed her friend out of the ward, albeit reluctantly.

  As Mabel and Mrs Prior emerged from the lift on the ground floor, she spied Flynn rushing in through the hospital main doors.

  ‘Order me a tea, would you?’ she asked Mrs Prior and went to speak to Flynn.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded. ‘Why aren’t you at Mr Prior’s bedside like I asked?’

  ‘We just came down for coffee,’ explained Mabel, wondering why Flynn was in such a flap. ‘Mrs Prior insisted. There wasn’t much I could do about it, Flynn.’

  ‘But what about Mr Prior?’

  Mrs Prior joined them then and said, ‘Hello, Sgt Flynn. Oh, he’s fine. Cameron’s old school friend Ollie has come to visit. We are his home from home, didn’t you know? We are more like one big family really. The two firms have been working together for years. Anyway I came to ask if you wanted a cake, Mabel? They have some rather nice-looking muffins.’

  ‘Who?’ said Flynn looking from one woman to the other.

  ‘Mrs Prior, dear, what’s Ollie’s surname? Mabel asked.

  ‘Why it’s Black. Ollie Black. Didn’t you know that? I thought everyone knew the Blacks.’

  As the penny dropped, Mabel said, ‘Oh my, Flynn. What have I done?’

  Ignoring her and whirling around, Flynn didn’t wait for Mabel, but ran towards the lifts. Finding both of them on upper floors, he barged through the doors to the stairwell. As be bounded up the concrete steps, for once he was glad of the hills around Muddlebay. All that walking up and down them had done his leg muscles good he decided as he climbed up three flights of stairs without so much as a twinge.

  Entering the ward, he grabbed a nurse. ‘Police. Which bed is Mr Prior in?’

  ‘The last on the left. But he’s already got a visitor.’

  Running down the ward, oblivious to the cries of the staff telling him to stop, he skidded to a halt near Prior’s bed. The curtains were closed.

  Not a good sign.

  Flynn grabbed the nearest one and with one good pull yanked it off its rails, to reveal Ollie Black holding a pillow over Ian Prior’s face. While he still had the element of surprise, Flynn barrelled into Ollie Black, in a tackle that any rugby player would have been proud of.

  Chapter 25

  For once Flynn was really happy to return to Muddlebay police station, as he walked through the door with Ollie Black in handcuffs. The looks on the faces of Elgin and Fisher were something Flynn would savour for quite a while.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Sgt Fisher,’ Flynn called. ‘Book young Ollie Black here in, would you?’

  Fisher seemed incapable of speech, his mouth flapping open and shut made him look gormless.

  ‘What’s the charge?’ Elgin asked.

  ‘Attempted murder, for now, but I’ve no doubt there’ll be other charges once I’ve interviewed him, eh, Ollie?’

  Ollie Black didn’t respond to that, just glowered at Flynn.

  ‘Attempted murder?’ Fisher spluttered. ‘But this is Ollie Black you’re talking about. That can’t be right surely.’

  ‘Attempted murder of who?’ asked Elgin.

  ‘Ian Prior.’

  ‘You must be wrong! Nothing ever happens in Muddlebay!’ said Elgin.

  ‘Especially not murder,’ said Fisher.

  ‘Well it does now. Or maybe in the past it did but you just didn’t notice? Either way, book young Ollie in while Elgin goes and gets me a rather nice coffee from the café on the High Street.’

  ‘What about me? Can I have a hot chocolate?’ At a glare from Flynn, Ollie mumbled, ‘I guess not,’ and shuffled after Sgt Fisher.

  It was fifteen minutes later when Flynn joined Ollie in the interview room.

  ‘Can’t you take these cuffs off?’

  ‘No,’ answered Flynn.

  ‘But…’

  ‘Don’t whine,’ he snapped. ‘Right, let’s get on with it.’

  But Flynn didn’t get any further before the door to the interview room was opened and in stepped a gentleman in a jet-black suit, carrying a leather briefcase.

  ‘Oh dear,’ he said, placing his briefcase on the table. ‘I hope you’ve not started interviewing my client before he’s had a chance to speak to his legal representative.’

  ‘And who are you?’ Flynn said, his face burning, for of course that was what he had intended to do.

  ‘Giles Dawson, Mr Black’s solicitor. Now if you don’t mind?’

  Reluctantly Flynn got up and took the card the solicitor held out to him. Turning towards the door he was called back.

  ‘The handcuffs please? Let’s get them off.’

  Grinding his teeth to stop himself saying something he’d regret later, Flynn fished in his pocket for the keys to the handcuffs and removed them from Ollie Black’s wrists.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Dawson with some satisfaction. ‘I’ll let you know when we’re ready,’ and shooed Flynn outside, shutting the door firmly behind him.

  Chapter 26

  But, of course, his solicitor appearing was only a short reprieve for young Ollie Black, for Flynn was an eyewitness to attempted murder. And neither Black, nor his solicitor, could stop him. Or at least that was what Flynn told Mabel over a welcome cup of tea in her snug living room the next day.

  ‘So this is what I think happened. Ollie Black had wanted to impress his father by bringing in the planning permission for the six bungalows,’ explained Flynn. ‘He had half of the planning committee agreeing, but once again the casting vote would have been Mayor Carter, and despite Ollie’s best attempts at persuasion, he’d refused to consider voting in Blacknote’s favour, so he had to go. Ollie would then install a new mayor, who would be more amenable to their plans and ensure the success of future developments.’

  ‘Tom Ludlow.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Mabel paused, an all-butter shortbread finger halfway to her mouth. ‘But why him? He voted against Blacknote last time, didn’t he? When the plans specified houses?’

  ‘I reckon Ollie urged Ludlow to remember which side his bread was buttered on. He regularly took back handers from Blacknote, apparently, and that’s why Ollie couldn’t understand why Ludlow had voted against the plans for six houses. But Ludlow told Ollie that if they changed the buildings to bungalows, he’d vote for the development next time around.’

  ‘What sort of back handers? Money?’

  ‘Oh, not money, that would be too obvious. Holidays, weekends away, a new extension at cost price, that sort of thing. I think they saw it as more an old boy’s network than taking bribes.’

  Mabel nodded. ‘Like the Masons.’

  ‘I suppose. I don’t know anything about the Masons. Where do they live? Are they a local family?’

  ‘Let’s go back to Mayor Carter,’ said Mabel quickly. ‘How did Ollie come up with the poison? Here, have a finger,’ and she picked up the plate of biscuits and offered it to Flynn.

  Taking one, Flynn said, ‘He knew the Mayor was on atropine for his heart condition, and so hoped he would have some port and then an overdose of atropine from the Deadly Nightshade would kill him but look like an accidental overdose.’ Flynn ate half the shortbread.

  He was just about to pop the remainder into his mouth, when Mabel said, ‘Yes, but how did he find out about Deadly Nightshade? He hadn’t borrowed any books on poisons from the library. Had he searched that Google thingy?’

  ‘Ah, well,’ Flynn waved the biscuit around to add emphasis to his words. ‘He thought he was being clever by concealing his tracks. He didn’t do an internet search, which could leave a footprint on his account. So he used his mother’s library card to borrow a book on poisonous plants and then recognised Deadly Nightshade as something growing on a small part of the plot.’

  ‘Just like I did,’ said Mabel. ‘Flynn, are you going to eat that biscuit or play with it.’

  ‘What?’ Flynn wasn’t sure how one played with biscuits and he looked at the shortbread finger from all angles in case he’d missed something.

  ‘Oh never mind,’ said Mabel. ‘Back to the case. How did Ollie know the port would go to the Mayor?’

  Flynn put the half-eaten biscuit into the saucer of his teacup and dusted the sugar off his hands. ‘The most likely scenario is that Ollie secretly placed the bottles on the shelf in Prior’s office, then casually asked Prior if he liked port, as he had some. Prior confessed he didn’t like the stuff and didn’t know where the bottles had come from, which we already knew, and Black suggested that as the Mayor liked port, how about donating them to him? To which Prior readily agreed.’

  ‘But he didn’t give the doctored port to the Mayor, did he?’

  ‘No. He gave them to Tom Ludlow. And that’s when Ludlow passed one onto the Mayor, keeping one for himself. And, of course, Ollie overheard me talking to his parents, saying that Prior was in hospital and had been helping me with my enquiries and that I thought the port had been doctored. As we agreed, I said that I was confident Prior would give me the name of the person who had handed him the doctored port when he came round from the anaesthetic and that’s when Ollie decided Prior had to be stopped. He needed to shut Prior up as he could have ruined everything.’

  ‘Yes, but in the end, Ollie managed to ruin everything all by himself.’

  ‘Exactly, as in the old adage, crime doesn’t pay.’

  Chapter 27

  However, the next day, Ollie Black had the last laugh, or so it seemed to Flynn. It was the hearing at Muddlebay Magistrates Court, where Ollie would have to answer to the charge. Sat at the back of the courtroom, Flynn looked Ollie up and down. His face had a five o’clock shadow, his shirt was rumpled, and his shoes had no laces in them. Someone, quite possibly his mother, had given him a jacket to wear, but in all honesty, it didn’t go well with his grubby jeans. And coming from Flynn, who had no clothes sense whatsoever, well, that was an indication as to how awful Ollie Black looked.

  Both his parents sat in the row behind and next to him lounged his solicitor, the ever-suave Giles Dawson. As the charge of attempted murder of Ian Prior was read out, his mother audibly gasped and dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled tissue. Flynn could see Ollie’s father, John Black, tensing his jaw and flexing his hands, then bunching them into fists. Who Black was so annoyed with wasn’t clear, it could be his son or even the police. Either way Flynn intended to keep well away from him.

  ‘Would the defendant please stand,’ intoned the Magistrate. ‘Ollie Black, you are charged with the attempted murder of Ian Prior. How do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?’

  ‘Not guilty,’ Ollie replied. It was Flynn’s turn to gasp. He was so sure of his case that he had never contemplated that Ollie Black would plead not guilty. Let’s face it, it wasn’t often that a killer was stopped by a policeman in the act. Flynn had burst in on Ollie trying to suffocate Ian Prior with a pillow. Flynn couldn’t think of a better witness to a crime than a policeman. He was aghast at the injustice and could feel the pressure in his head building so much it felt fit to burst and he had to take several deep breaths to calm himself down. He couldn’t abide liars and lies, which is probably why he was so tenacious as a policeman. He loved nothing better than routing them out. But several deep breaths later, thinking about it logically, a ‘not guilty’ plea was exactly what anyone with their head screwed on would have done. Still, the thought of a protracted case at the Crown Court didn’t please Flynn. He had been looking forward to a successful prosecution and as a result leaving Muddlebay and returning to London, his exile over. But it looked like DCI Stride would have an ongoing prosecution as a good excuse to keep Flynn in his hometown and as far away from the Metropolitan Police as possible.

  Glumly, Flynn listened as Giles Dawson was quick to ask about bail.

  ‘Mr Proctor,’ said the Magistrate, ‘what say you?’

  ‘We would request that the accused be remanded in custody, your honour.’

  ‘Why?’ the Magistrate leaned over his bench and peered at the CPS solicitor.

  ‘Because of the seriousness of the charge and the fact that Mr Black would have the means to flee the country, sir. The family are, after all, of substantial means.’

 

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