The Dudleys of Budleigh: An East Devon Cosy Mystery (East Devon Cosy Mysteries Book 2) by P.A. Nash

Author:P.A. Nash [Nash, P.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11 – That’s One Way to Stop a Train!

It was dark and silent when Frank awoke. It took him a couple of minutes to fully understand where he was and how he got there. His head was thumping like a hammer in a blacksmith’s forge.

He was in a room with no windows. He couldn’t tell whether it was morning, noon or night. For some reason, he was unable to move his hands to be able to see his watch. The whole room smelt of mouldy hay. He couldn’t move because although he was sitting up straight, his arms and legs were tied and tightly attached to a wooden kitchen chair. It seemed to be the same chair he had been in when drinking a strong cup of tea. He recalled the taste and his drowsiness. Drugged.

He looked around as far as was possible. His eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness. Tied to another chair was a still sleeping Ella. There was one closed door in the far wall. No chinks of light were visible around the edges of the door frame. The room was bare of furniture but appeared to be partly covered in hay. No wallpaper or paintwork on the walls— just bare bricks. It could be an outhouse or an attic. He couldn’t tell.

He heard a scurrying noise near his feet. Mice in the hay? Rats? He didn’t want to think about that! He heard another noise. A moan followed by a groan.

“Frank?”

“I’m here. About six feet away from you. I’m tied up as well.”

“Dudley Weston?”

“He’s not here. It’s just us. How’s your head?”

“I’ve felt better.”

There was a rustle.

“I can’t move my hands or feet.”

“Yes, same here.” replied Frank, “We’ve been tied up rather expertly.”

“What do you remember about the kitchen…‌ about his accusation?”

“Now you say that, I do remember. He accused us of murdering Anthony Buckerell. But, that’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not!” A voice resounded loudly from the furthest corner of the room.

“Dudley Weston?”

“Yes, Mrs Raleigh. I’ve been waiting patiently for you to wake up. Would you like another cup of tea?” He laughed mockingly.

“Let us out of these ropes. We need to get home.”

“No chance!”

“Why keep us here in this cellar?” demanded Frank. “Or is it an attic?”

“If you would just loosen these ropes on my hands. They’re hurting me.”

“Tough, Mrs Raleigh.”

“Just let us go home and we’ll say no more about it,” Ella lied. If Ella could have crossed her fingers then they would all have been crossed.

“You’re not going home again for a good number of years.”

“What are you going to do with us?” Ella’s voice now betrayed a touch of genuine fear.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to exact any revenge. I’ll leave that to the powers that be. They’ll administer justice. I just want to hear from your own lips how you did it.”

“Did what?”

“Don’t be so blooming dense, Mr Raleigh. You both managed to do something that I wished I had the nerve to do. He probably deserved it. But I still want to hear from you.

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