Agnes Lockwood Mysteries Collection

Chapter 11

The rest of the afternoon seemed to pass rather quickly. Agnes had decided to pop out to the nearby café for coffee rather than sit in her room. She enjoyed watching people coming and going. It was certainly better than being alone upstairs. After finishing her coffee, she had taken a short stroll along the quayside.

On her way back to the hotel, she saw someone leaning out of one of the hotel windows. For a moment she thought the person was waving to someone across the river, but glancing over to the other side of the Tyne, she couldn"t see anyone responding. A few moments later, the person disappeared back inside the room. She turned away; the person had probably been admiring the view.

Now, showered and dressed, Agnes pondered on whether to go downstairs to wait for Alan. But in the end she decided to wait in her room. Perhaps she would look too keen if she was almost standing at the hotel entrance waiting for him to appear.

There was a tap on the door. Alan was standing there when she opened it.

“All set?” he asked.

“I just need to get my bag and I"ll be right with you,” she replied.

It was beginning to rain when they emerged from the hotel. However, Alan had a taxi waiting at the entrance and a short while later they pulled up outside the restaurant. By now the rain was falling heavily, so they hurried inside. The restaurant was rather full. It seemed it was popular with the locals.

A waiter led them to their table and asked if they would like to order drinks while they chose from the extensive menu. Agnes took a few moments to look at their surroundings. She found the atmosphere to be warm and comfortable – quite cosy, really. The walls were covered with photographs. Some showed the quayside from the past to the present, while others displayed various areas of the city centre. Above the bar area hung models of the large ships, which had visited the Tyne in the past and in one corner of the restaurant stood a large dresser filled with local memorabilia.

Looking at the various items, Agnes"s memories were stirred as she recalled seeing similar things in her grandmother"s house. She had been very young so her Grandma had only allowed her to look at the precious treasures through the glass doors of the cabinet in her front room. “When you are older, I will let you hold them.”

But it never happened. Her grandmother died shortly after they had moved abroad. Until now, she had forgotten all about the ornaments in the old house. Though, thinking about it now, she wondered what had happened to them. She glanced back at the dresser. Perhaps some of them had ended up here. How proud her Grandma would be if she knew her possessions were still on show.

The evening passed very quickly. Agnes was interested to know what Alan had done since he left school and he was happy to tell her. He had enjoyed his days as a soldier, but once he finished his service, he had headed straight back to Tyneside.

“I really missed the place,” he told her. “It was good to be home. Though it had changed a great deal during the time I was away, and it"s been changing ever since!” He went on to tell her about his work as a policeman and how he had climbed the ladder to the rank of Detective Chief Inspector.

“Now then, what about you,” he asked, “what did you do after you left the country?”

Agnes told him about her life abroad with her parents. “I found it daunting going to a new school and making new friends. It was even more difficult as I couldn"t speak their language. But they were all so kind and helped me. Some of them even tried to learn English from me.” She laughed. “Can you imagine it? They were teaching me French, while they were trying to learn English. I must say we had some fun over that.”

She paused. “After a few years my parents came back to England and settled in London.”

“You never thought of visiting the north?” he enquired. “You know, just for old time"s sake.”

“No,” Agnes said. “There never seemed to be time. But looking back, I wish I had made time to bring Jim up here. He would have loved it.” She paused for a moment, but then continued. “But that"s life, isn"t it. You do everything you can, yet there is still always something you wish you had done and then find it is too late.”

It was quite late when they left the restaurant. The rain had stopped and the dark clouds had rolled away making way for the full moon to shine down onto the quayside.

“Shall we walk back to the hotel?” Agnes suggested. “It"s rather pleasant now.” In the distance she could see the coloured lights glowing from the Millennium Bridge. “I did so want to see the lights, but I was a little anxious about coming out on my own after dark.”

Alan agreed.

They were just about to set off when they heard a loud thud. It came from somewhere on the opposite side of the street. At first they couldn"t see anything, but crossing the road, they were able to make out something lying on edge of the pavement.

“You wait here, I"ll see what it is,” said Alan.

“Not on your life,” Agnes replied and began to hurry towards the object. Alan caught up with her and they arrived together to find a woman lying at their feet. Her body was stretched across the edge of the pavement and onto the road.

At first they thought the woman might be drunk and had fallen over. However, when Alan leant over the woman to take a closer look, he saw there was no sign of any movement. He felt for a pulse, but there was none.

Agnes gasped and took a step backwards when he looked up at her and shook his head. She glanced up and down the street, half expecting to see someone lurking somewhere in the shadows, but there was no one to be seen. It was at that moment she heard something and looked up in time to see a window closing somewhere above her head.

“Alan,” she said, pointing upwards. “Someone has just closed a window up there.”

By now, he was on his phone calling for back-up.

“Do you think she could have been pushed from up there?” Agnes asked when he had finished his call.

“She could well have been, but she was shot first.” Alan pointed down towards the woman.

Agnes stepped a little closer and looked down at the body. She was horrified to see the woman"s legs twisted under her. One of her arms was stretched out to one side, while the other was lying across her chest. But what really sent her reeling was the sight of blood surrounding a hole in the woman"s forehead. When she had first looked down at the body, the women"s hair had been covering half of her face. Alan must have brushed it aside while checking to see whether she was drunk and had simply fallen over.

Agnes clasped her hand over her mouth and quickly looked away. But there was something familiar about what the woman was wearing and after a moment"s thought, she turned back and looked again. She swallowed hard and forced herself to look at the woman"s face for a second time.

“I"ve seen her before,” she uttered, swiftly turning away again. “She"s staying at the hotel. I saw her this morning in the Dining Room. She didn"t speak to me. I don"t think she even noticed I was there. She had finished breakfast and was poring over her newspaper.”

“Well, that"s a start,” said Alan. “We"ll make some enquiries at the hotel; they should have her home phone number at the very least.” He stood up. “I better get you back to the hotel. Once my officers arrive I"ll ask someone to take you back.”

Agnes pulled a face. “No. I would like to stay. Besides, aren"t I a witness or something?”

“Well yes, technically,” he sounded doubtful, “but you didn"t see any more than I did. We arrived on the scene together – remember?”

“Ah, yes, but it was me who saw the window close – remember?” Agnes had no intention of being shunted off in some police car, not when there was a possible murder enquiry on the cards. “You wouldn"t have known about that if I hadn"t told you. Also,” she added before Alan could get a word in. “It was me who recognised the victim as someone staying at the hotel.”

Alan held up his hands. “Okay, but…”

Before he could say anymore, a police car swung around the corner, followed by a van carrying the pathologist.