Murder at the Christmas Carols (The Wootton Windmill Mysteries Book 1) by Izzie Harper

Author:Izzie Harper [Harper, Izzie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farthingloe Publishing
Published: 2022-11-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

8am

The first thing Ellie did when she arrived at Martha’s was text Zoe and tell her about the tea. She asked her to find out what Finn knew about someone making Andrea a cup of tea, which she’d either taken to her bedroom herself or which she was brought.

At 8am on the dot, Ellie and Sally were on the doorstep of Martha’s beautiful home. The Old Post Office was originally three cottages that had been knocked through. To their right, the River Wootton gleamed in the morning light.

Ellie told Sally about her conversation with Katie, the reporter. ‘I’ve made a massive mistake about the thallium.’ She repeated what she had learnt from Katie.

‘How did you manage that?’

No-one answered, so Ellie used the company keys to let Sally and herself in. There was no Oscar at the door. Perhaps Martha had taken him out for a walk. ‘I heard Dave repeat back “cake” when he asked about her stomach contents and assumed this meant that’s what the poison was in.’

‘Did you hear the whole conversation?’

‘That’s the thing. I only heard Dave’s side.’

‘Oh Ells. You doughnut. The person might have said something like, “the thallium was in a cup of tea, but she had a load of cake in her stomach too”, and Dave could have simply repeated back, “yeah … thallium … cake”.’

‘I know,’ Ellie whispered. ‘It was a stupid assumption. Katie actually did me a huge favour.’ She raised her voice. ‘Martha?’ Double-checking was customary before they ploughed into a customer’s house. ‘It’s Blix Blitz.’ She was relieved Martha was out. It made jobs so much easier and quicker when cleaners didn’t have to make polite conversation with customers and contend with their surveillance.

The two of them carried their equipment and vacuum cleaners into the spacious hall. Ellie knew the layout, as she’d cleaned Martha’s house a couple of times before. Martha had preserved many of the Post Office’s original features: the postal slats, a franking bench, the old post room. Ellie and Sally quickly split up and started on different rooms, Sally downstairs, Ellie up.

Martha’s bathroom was clean, bright and white with floor to ceiling tiles on two walls. There were no children’s toys round the bath, no wet towels and clothes on the floor.

Ellie cleaned the bath, basin, toilet, floor and mirrors. While she worked, she racked her brain for how she could find out who had put thallium in Andrea’s tea.

Next door, the spare bedroom was clutter-free. No piles of laundry on the bed, no boxes or junk. Ellie dusted and hoovered the landing and was soon in Martha’s bedroom. This was always the room that felt the most personal to Ellie when she was cleaning people’s houses. It was where her clients dreamt their dreams, where they lay awake worrying about whatever was bothering them. It was where they explored the innermost crevices of their minds.

Over the years, she’d developed the habit of seeing her clients in purely professional terms, even when she knew them personally.

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