‘Hands off,’ she said, making a mock hand-slapping gesture with the spatula in her hand.
‘What is it?’
‘Strawberry shortcake. One of my favourites.’
‘My daughter Julie’s, too. I’ve had it a couple of times when I’ve been over visiting.’
‘It was going to be for the dinner. I was going to tell you about it but I decided to cancel it—for the time being anyway. With all this weird stuff going on, it didn’t seem to be such a good idea.’
‘I can well understand.’
She wiped her hands on the striped apron. ‘I’d invited Francis and Alexandra, the couple who own the antiques shop in Bridgwater. You remember? I told you about them. It was going to be the two of them and David—David Latimer. Bella’s staying with her sister for a few days. And you and me, of course.’ She turned to stir whatever was in the pot on the Aga. ‘We’ll just have to do it some other time.’
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Kingston replied.
‘David’s still coming tonight, but just for drinks. When we talked on the phone I told him about the accident and some of the things that have been happening and he insisted on coming over to see me. I told him you’d join us, if that’s okay.’
Fifteen minutes later, with Kingston driving, they left for Dot’s.
Finding the cottage was easy. The village was tiny, only a scattering of houses, and the rustic Ash Tree Cottage sign hanging over the gate was hard to miss. Kingston pulled alongside the picket fence in front. The cottage stood by itself, set back from the road. Tall trees concealed the house on the northerly side. The cottage on the other side was a hundred or so feet away, partially shielded by a high yew hedge. On the left side of Dot’s cottage was a wooden gate, obviously the way to the back garden. On the right side a gravel drive, just long enough to accommodate one car. Dot’s white Honda Civic was parked there.
Kingston, with Jamie a few steps behind, walked up to the periwinkle blue front door. He lifted the lion’s head knocker and gave two sharp raps. They waited an interval of thirty seconds then he rapped again, this time even harder.
‘She’d have to be deaf not to hear that,’said Jamie.
‘And we know she’s not, right?’
Jamie nodded.
Kingston had stepped back and was looking at the windows on both sides. In all cases, the curtains were drawn. ‘Wait here, Jamie,’ he said, crossing a small patch of lawn, ‘while I go and check the back.’ He opened the side gate and went through. In less than a minute he was back. ‘It’s all locked. I took a peek in the kitchen. Nothing unusual there. The other windows are curtained, I’m afraid. Looks like a wasted trip.’
They started up the path, closing the gate behind them. For a moment they stood looking back at the cottage. ‘What do you think we should do?’ asked Jamie.
‘I suppose we should call the police. Could be any number of explanations.’
‘Well, I’m not usually one to look on the dark side but I think you’re right.’
Jamie was about to get back in the car when Kingston held his hand up. ‘Wait a moment. Let me just check her car.’
She watched him walk over to the Honda where he bent down and peered in the passenger side window. Next, she saw him try the door handle. It was clearly locked because she could see the car shaking with the force that Kingston was exerting. Quickly he tried the other doors. All were locked. As he came back to the car she could see by the grim look on his face that something was dreadfully wrong.
‘She’s in the car, Jamie. I’m afraid she’s dead.’
‘God! Are you sure?’
‘Almost certain—committed suicide by the looks of it. There’s a section of garden hose from one of the rear windows hooked up to the exhaust. Her face is unusually pink, too, one of the signs of carbon monoxide poisoning.’
Jamie already had her phone out. ‘What’s the emergency number here?’
Within fifteen minutes an ambulance arrived and shortly after, a police car. The police had the Honda door open in seconds and waited while the paramedics examined the body, quickly determining that she was dead.
When the police finally got round to questioning Kingston and Jamie, over half an hour had passed. For the next five minutes, they answered the sergeant’s questions, then provided their names, addresses and contact numbers.
‘Well, that’s about it,’ he said, folding his notepad. ‘I appreciate your patience. No need for you to stay any longer—and I’m awfully sorry about the bad news.’
Jamie sighed and shook her head. ‘A suicide. I would never have thought it.’