Agnes Lockwood Mysteries Collection

Chapter 14

After Alan had left the hotel, Agnes sat for a while deciding what to do with herself. She was meeting Alan again this evening for dinner, but that seemed a long way away. She had made a list of places she wanted to see during her stay in the northeast. Recalling her past had been the whole purpose of this visit. Yet all that seemed to have gone out of the window since the robberies at the hotel followed by the murder at the museum further along the quayside.

She smiled to herself at her pun. Her plans had gone out of the window, just like the body last night. Perhaps she would take another walk along the quayside while the weather was clement. She could even stroll across the Millennium Bridge and go inside the Sage Building and the Baltic Art Gallery on the Gateshead side of the Tyne. The Sage was a new building, but way back in the past the Baltic had been a flour mill.

The cool air on her cheeks helped to refresh her as she stepped outside the hotel and slowly made her way along the quay. It was quite busy. Many people looked like tourists enjoying the late summer sun. She was just about to step onto the bridge, when she had the strange feeling she was being watched.

Ordinarily, she would have shrugged it off. With so many people milling around, anyone of them could be looking at her for no other reason than because she was in their line of sight. However, this felt very different to someone giving her a casual glance. She had a strong feeling she was being studied. She shivered. Maybe she was overreacting. But since the episode with the man in the hotel, she didn"t want to take any chances. Halfway across the bridge, she stopped to take in the scenery. Or at least that"s what she wanted the person watching her to think. She glanced back and forth, as though taking a mental picture of both sides of the quay. Then she turned around to look in the opposite direction. All the time she tried to give the impression she was actually looking in the direction she was facing. But in reality, her eyes were darting from side to side trying to see who was peering at her.

Suddenly she saw the man from the hotel. He was wearing an overcoat with the collar turned up. Whether it was to shield him from the cool breeze or an effort to disguise himself from her, she wasn"t sure. But if it was for the latter it didn"t work, she recognised him instantly. Comforted that she had at least spotted him, she turned and continued on her way across the bridge towards the art gallery.

Agnes paused at the end of the bridge for a few moments before making her way across to the gallery. As she drew nearer to the large building, she was able to see the reflection of people walking behind her through the large windows of the café. At first she didn"t see the man and wondered if he had decided to go back. But then she caught a glimpse of him. He was tucked behind a group of people, all heading her way.

If this were after dark with not many people around, she would have been terrified. But on this bright sunny morning, with people everywhere, she felt quite safe. Besides, Alan had given her his mobile number. If she felt threatened in any way, she wouldn"t hesitate to call him. Meanwhile, she would have a little fun and lead this guy on a wild goose chase.

The sudden thought of the chief inspector, caused her to wonder how he was getting on at the museum.

Before leaving the Bessie Surtees Museum, Alan decided he would take a look around. You never know, the SOCO team might have missed something in one of the other rooms. Though he knew that wasn"t usually the case. They were very thorough.

He wandered around the rooms hoping to find something that would give him a lead to work on. Yet he found nothing. It was as the team had said, no evidence of any blood being spilled. In fact there was no sign that anyone had even been in here since the curator went home. Truthfully he was beginning to wonder whether a murder had even taken place. Could he have imagined the whole thing? But then he thought of the body lying in the morgue and how Agnes had been with him when he found it. No! It was true enough.

Despite the seriousness of the inquiry, he couldn"t help but stop to admire his surroundings. The city could well be bustling outside, but in here it was almost as though the world had stood still since the house was built in the eighteenth century. The carved oak paneling above the fireplace and the magnificent ceiling had all stood the test of time.

He shook his head. What was he doing? He was supposed to be investigating a murder and here he was, standing around as though he were an awestruck tourist. Satisfied that there was nothing further to glean from the old house, he made his way down the stairs and out of the building.

The officer was still standing by the door when Alan arrived downstairs. As he had predicted, the reporters rushed towards him as he stepped out onto the pavement.

“Any further forward in solving the murder?”

“Can you give us any more information?” called out another.

“Who was the victim?”

The questions came at him from all sides. Alan could only repeat that he had no further news for them. “As for the identity of the victim, I"m afraid you will have to wait until we are able to contact the next of kin.”

There were a few mutterings from the frustrated reporters and several more photos taken by the photographers before they all moved off towards their parked cars.

The lads across the road had disappeared. For a moment Alan wondered what had happened to them. Had they all managed to get jobs or was one of them having to trundle back to the Job Centre. It seemed rather insensitive to send four people to a building site when there were only three jobs available. He shrugged. It wasn"t really any of his business. Except that in a way it usually ended up being his business. If the young men in the city didn"t have work, they could turn to crime.

The chief inspector had a few words with the officer standing guard before he got into his car and headed towards the police station.

Sergeant Andrews was on the phone when Alan stepped into the office. He raised his eyebrows at his sergeant, silently asking if there were any further developments. But the slight shake of his head told him there was nothing new.

The sergeant finished his call and shrugged at his boss. “Nothing,” he said. “No one seems to know anything and SOCO insist there is no trace of any blood in the room.”

“Not even by the window?” Alan raised his eyebrows. “It would have been difficult to drag the body across the floor, and then heave it out of the window without leaving even a drop of blood.”

Andrews shook his head. “No, absolutely nothing, the guys who were at the scene are as baffled as we are.”

“What about fingerprints?” Alan asked. “Surely they must have picked up some fingerprints?” He was clutching at straws now.

“There are too many fingerprints to be of any use. The house had been open to the public yesterday as usual and it had been rather busy. I gather there were two coach trips during the day. A number of prints were smudged. Any prints found could belong to various people who might not even be in Newcastle today.”

“Can this get any worse?” Alan threw his hands in the air in despair. “When is the room cleaned?” he added, more to himself than the sergeant.

“Sorry sir.” Andrews enquired. He hadn"t quite caught his boss"s last remark.

“I was thinking aloud,” Alan explained. “I was simply wondering whether they had a regular cleaner and, if so, when the room was last cleaned.”

“Good point, sir. Shall I check that out?”

Alan nodded. “Meanwhile, I"ll see whether there is any further news from the pathologist. We"ve got to find a lead from somewhere. At the moment we have nothing whatsoever to go on.”

Agnes was enjoying a coffee and a lovely cake in the rather nice café on the ground floor inside the Baltic Art Gallery. She had chosen a seat by the window, which meant she had a clear view of this side of the quay. The man hadn"t followed her into the café. However, she couldn"t see him kicking his heels outside either. Therefore, he must be lolling around somewhere in the entrance hall. She would need to be careful when she left the café.

She sighed. Of course he might not really be following her. She could be imagining the whole thing. At this very moment, he could be upstairs admiring the artwork on display in the gallery. Or even in the gift shop across the hall.

Thinking of the gift shop, she thought she would make that her next port of call. She might find one or two gifts for the children who lived next door to her home in Essex.

She paid the bill and made her way out of the café; careful not to give away the fact that she was scanning the area. She tried to give the impression to any passersby that she hadn"t quite made up her mind what to do next.

At first there was no sign of the man who had been following her. But then she caught a glimpse of him just before he concealed himself behind a large billboard.

“Hmm,” Agnes mumbled to herself. “So much for thinking that he might not actually be following me.” She heaved a sigh and a few minutes later she was inside the shop, browsing the well-stocked shelves.

Almost an hour had passed before she left the shop. She dithered on whether to go upstairs into the gallery or leave that for another day. In the end she decided to visit the Sage building, which is what she had intended to do when she first left the hotel.

On the way up the steps leading to the Sage, Agnes paused when she saw the Millennium Bridge was being raised to allow a vessel to float underneath. She pulled out her mobile phone and took a video. She also took the opportunity to scan the quayside, hoping to capture the strange man who had been following her. Then she saw him. He wasn"t actually looking at her at that point. Instead, he was watching the bridge being raised. But then he moved his attention to the vessel passing underneath.

Agnes quickly focused her camera on the bridge again when the man looked towards her. Let him continue to believe she was merely another tourist interested in the workings of this impressive bridge. Yet, she knew she had caught him on her camera phone.

Once the bridge was back in place, Agnes turned and continued up the steps towards the Sage Building at the top. A brief glance back down towards the quay told her the man was no longer following her. In fact, he appeared to have lost interest in her altogether. Instead, his eyes were glued on the yacht as it moored alongside the Jetty.

Agnes"s mind was in a whirl as she continued towards the Sage. At first, she had thought of hanging around at the top of the steps to see what happened next, but swiftly changed her mind. What if the man was simply waiting for her to disappear from sight before following her up the steps? It wouldn"t help if he found her watching him. Best let him believe she had no idea of his presence. That way, she could keep an eye on him and, in due course, she might even learn what this was all about.

She didn"t see the man any more during the afternoon. Yet she still couldn"t relax. She kept taking sly glances behind her, half expecting him to pop up at any moment.