A Mystery On Tyneside

Chapter OneAgnes was enjoying a carefree spending spree in the city centre. It had been quite a while since she last visited the Eldon Square shopping mall. With the weather being so warm during the summer months, she had never felt like wandering too far away from the quayside. The gentle breeze from the River Tyne, as it calmly flowed towards the open sea, had acted rather like a fan, keeping her cool while she had sat outside her favourite café near the Millennium Bridge. Even so, there had still been the odd day or two when the heat had been too much for her. However, that morning there was a slight drizzle when they awoke and Agnes had decided it was the perfect excuse for her to catch up with some shopping. Not that she ever needed an excuse to go to the shopping mall. There was nothing she liked better than to wander around the shops. Besides, Alan, a Detective Chief Inspector with the Newcastle Police, wouldn't miss her as he was on duty. But then wasn't he always? It certainly appeared that way. She couldn't begin to count the number of times they had planned to go somewhere, only to have something come up and spoil it. On the other hand, Alan didn't like wandering around the shops. If he had accompanied her, she would never have been able to spend so much time browsing through so many wonderful outfits. He hated lingering around women's clothing departments and would huff and puff and ask why she was taking so long. But then, even her late husband, Jim hadn't liked waiting outside the changing room while she was trying on outfits. In a way, Alan was a bit like Jim, when it came to buying new clothes for himself. He would walk into his favourite shop, flick through the rail of suits until something caught his eye. If he found it suitable, he would pay for the item and leave – job done. Yet, at the same time, Agnes had to admit that the method appeared to work, as Alan always looked so well turned out. It had been one of the first things she had noticed about him. Agnes glanced at her watch. It was time to make her way to the restaurant, where she and Alan had arranged to meet up for lunch. She had booked a table before setting out that morning; afraid it might be busy when they arrived. Therefore, the only other problem was whether something had suddenly cropped up at the police station during the morning to prevent Alan from joining her. It didn't take Agnes long to reach the restaurant. Thankfully the rain had eased by the time she left the mall, meaning she was able to make her way across Northumberland Street and along the road to the restaurant, without needing to unfold her umbrella. It was handy to have it tucked away in her bag, but there was always the problem of what to do with it once she arrived at her destination and it was dripping wet. Leo, the manager, was standing by the door. He helped her off with her coat, before showing her across to the table. However, finding that Alan hadn't yet arrived, Agnes decided to pop into the ladies' room to re-freshen her make-up. Once inside, she hurried across to one of the mirrors above the line of washbasins opposite the door; the last thing she wanted to do was to keep Alan waiting. While she had the whole day to herself, he was limited to his short lunch break. Agnes swiftly pulled her lipstick from her bag and leaned over the washbasin to get closer to the mirror. However, she had only applied the lipstick to half of her upper lip when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the reflection of a foot poking out from one of the cubicles. Shocked, the lipstick fell from her fingers and rattled around in the basin as she swung around. Now leaning back against the washbasin for support, she saw that the door to the cubicle was open. “Are you okay?” Agnes called out, her heart beginning to thud with alarm. When there was no reply, she slowly made her way across to the cubicle, again asking if the woman needed help. But, yet again, there was no reply. By now, Agnes had reached a point where she could see the woman's foot more closely; she was wearing trainers. Perhaps she had been out jogging and had found it all too much. These things happened all the time. However, as Agnes drew closer, she was stunned to find it wasn't a woman after all, it was a man who was lying on his side. She was about to ask him what he was doing in the ladies' room, thinking that perhaps he was mending something, when, to her utter horror, she saw a bullet hole in his forehead. Blood, still oozing from the wound, was trickling down his brow before dripping to the floor. Clasping her hands over her mouth, Agnes took a few steps away from the body. “Oh no,” she murmured. “Surely this can't be happening to me all over again?” * * * It had been a relatively quiet morning at the station for Detective Inspector Alan Johnson and his sergeant. A disturbance in Northumberland Street had been reported. However, when a couple of uniformed officers arrived on the scene they found it had all blown over. “It's possible that those involved in the brawl got wind that a street vendor had called the police, so they scarpered,” the desk sergeant told Alan. “Everything appeared to be back to normal when the officers got there.” Alan had been relieved to hear the news. If the fracas in the city centre had turned out to be something more serious, he and his sergeant could have been summoned to the scene, meaning lunch with Agnes would have been cancelled. Agnes was already somewhere in the city buying new clothes for the autumn months. She had suggested waiting until he had a day off so he could accompany her. However, he had been more than happy for her to go on her own. A few weeks ago, he had gone with her to choose a new three-piece suite for the apartment they now shared. But shopping for furniture was a different matter altogether. He had quite enjoyed helping to choose the style and colour of the sofa and chairs for their new home. When Agnes had first brought up the subject of buying the penthouse apartment, he had been a little hesitant. But that was mainly because he knew the price would be well beyond anything he could afford. The sale of his house in Heaton would never fetch that sort of money and he didn't really want to take out a mortgage; not at his age. However, when he finally voiced his thoughts to Agnes while on their way to view the property, she had assured him that buying the apartment would be a joint venture. “I'm not expecting you to buy it on your own, Alan. If we agree to buy the apartment, we'll share the cost. The sale of my house in Essex and the sale of your house should cover the price,” she had told him. “Yet, there's the possibility that it won't match the price,” Alan had persisted. “Though house prices have fallen over the last year or so, prices for apartments are still rising.” However, Agnes had simply shrugged it off, saying how could the vendors refuse an offer when it was cash in hand? “I could pay for the apartment until our properties are sold,” she reassured him. Alan looked at his watch. It was almost time to leave the police station to meet up with Agnes. “I'll be off in a few minutes, Andrews. But give me a call if you need me.” His sergeant nodded. He was about to say something, but Alan's mobile rang, beating him to it. “It's Agnes,” Alan said, looking at the screen. “I bet she thinks I've forgotten about our lunch arrangement.” “No, Agnes, I haven't forgotten. I was just about to leave…” he began. “Alan, you must come now,” she interrupted. “I've just said…” “No! You don't understand – I've found a body…” “What? Where are you?” Alan glanced at Andrews and raised his eyes to the ceiling as Agnes went on to reveal her location. “Get uniformed officers to the restaurant, ASAP, Andrews!” Alan called out. “Agnes has found someone she says has been shot.” “I called an ambulance before calling you,” Agnes continued. “Thankfully, no one has needed to use the ladies' room, so far. Yet someone could walk in here at any moment,” she added, glancing at the door. “I haven't even informed the manager. But perhaps I should have said something to him…” “No! You did the right thing. Leave everything as it is. Keep everyone out. We'll be there in a few minutes.” By the time Alan had finished speaking, his sergeant had already called for officers to attend the scene. “Also, get Jones and Smithers to…” Alan began. “I can't,” Andrews replied. “They're at some meeting with the superintendent – remember?” By now, Alan had already grabbed his coat and was heading for the door. “Yes,” he replied, swinging around to face his sergeant. “Why did Blake need to take my best detectives with him? Jimmy and Martin are looking into something else, so who are we left with?” “What about Morris?” Andrews suggested. “He's here – somewhere. He could help us out.” “Morris?” Alan almost spat out the detective constable's name as he swung around to face his sergeant. “Yes, Morris,” Andrews replied. “If you aren't going to use him, why keep him on the team?” The sergeant was aware that Detective Constable Morris was not at the top of the DCI's detective list, since he had let the team down a few months ago by admitting to passing on police information for money. Alan was so angry back then that his first instinct had been to speak to the superintendent about having him removed from the force. However, he had held back and even now, a few months later, he was still reserving his judgement. Maybe Morris's performance today would help him make up his mind. “Okay, get hold of Morris and tell him to meet us outside,” Alan said. “But if he messes up this time…” He broke off and shook his head. “He's out!”