A Deadly Service (A Butterworth Mystery Book 3) Read online

  A Deadly Service

  Chapter 1

  “I think someone wants to hurt me. I think they want to kill me.”

  Connie Butterworth looked at the young woman sitting across from her. “Would you care to elaborate? You said in your email that someone was trying to sabotage your business. You didn’t say anything about attempted murder.”

  The young woman, Jocelyn Kent, blinked away a tear. “I’m sorry for sounding so dramatic. I can’t believe it myself, but when I look at the evidence, I can’t see another explanation. I’m wondering now if I should go to the police, rather than employing a private investigating firm.”

  Connie’s sister-in-law, Sable said, “Why don’t you give us all the details? Then we can see whether it’s a case for us or not.” Sable looked around the café. “Are you alright speaking to us here? We don’t have an office yet, so we’re making do with local amenities.”

  Jocelyn said, “This is fine. It’s funny you should mention an office because that’s what my business relates to. I take derelict buildings and convert them. Sometimes they’re converted into homes, but mainly we focus on offices.”

  “We?” Connie asked.

  “Yes. I work with my husband, Don. He’s been in the building trade since I met him. I’ve been helping him on a part-time basis for years. Until earlier this year when I finally decided to throw myself into it full-time. I’ve got my very own project that I’m working on at present. Don checks in with me now and again, but I’ve told him I can manage.” Jocelyn frowned. “I’m beginning to think I can’t manage at all. Not after what’s been happening.”

  Sable took a notepad and pen from her bag. “I’m going to make some initial notes. If it’s a case for us, then I’ll give you a client form to complete. Connie will ask the questions.”

  Connie smiled at Jocelyn. “The first question is, would you like another coffee?”

  “No, thank you. I haven’t finished this one yet.” Jocelyn scratched the side of her neck.

  Connie noticed the red, scaly patches on Jocelyn’s hands and matching ones on her neck. It was hard to see if there were any on her face because her make-up had been heavily applied.

  Jocelyn caught her looking, and quickly lowered her hands. “Sorry about that. My eczema’s flaring up again. It gets worse when I get stressed. I’ve got some terrible patches of it on my face, which is why I look like a clown this morning. I don’t usually wear so much make-up.”

  “I’m familiar with what eczema can do to a person,” Connie said. “My youngest son, Kevin, suffered from it when he was little. The poor little mite couldn’t stop scratching himself. It was worse in the night because once he was asleep, he wasn’t aware he was scratching. We went through months of covering him in bandages, but he managed to wriggle out of them in his sleep.”

  Jocelyn nodded. “Oh, yes, I’ve been through the bandage stage. I still wear cotton gloves at night, after I’ve slathered my hands in cream. And the amount of cream I go through is ridiculous. I have to buy it in bulk.”

  Connie said, “I had to do that too. And did you ever need the special antiseptic creams if you got an infection? We had to get those on prescription, and the chemist always warned us to use it for two or three days and no more.”

  “In case it makes the skin too thin?” Jocelyn added. “Yes, I’ve been through all of that. I know my chemist quite well.”

  A polite cough from Sable stopped Connie from discussing the eczema situation any further.

  Connie said, “Tell us more about your problem. You told me in your email that someone had been breaking into your office.”

  “It’s an office on the top floor of the building I’m converting now. Let me start at the beginning. I went to an auction six months ago with Don, and I made a bid on a derelict building on Cumberland Street. It’s an area about a mile from the city centre.”

  “I know that street,” Connie said. “There used to be a line of offices on it. I used to go to one building now and again with my dad when I was little.” Her brow furrowed in thought. “I think it was a building society. It moved from Cumberland Street to the city centre years ago.”

  For the first time since she’d met them that day, Jocelyn broke into a smile. “That’s the building I made a bid on.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Isn’t that a coincidence?”

  Connie said, “It’s true what they say about this being a small world. What does it look like now? I remember it used to have one of those metal cage lifts. You had to close the heavy gate after you got in, and as you went up, you could see the floors passing by. It delighted and terrified me at the same time.”

  Jocelyn said, “We had to take that lift out. It had rusted, and it would have cost too much to repair. I’ve got some photos of the building on my phone if you’d like to have a look?”

  Sable interrupted, “Can we leave that for later? Let’s get back to your problem. You mentioned your office. Where is it?”

  “On the top floor of the building. The rest of the building is still being converted, but I wanted an office space for myself. I made sure my office was done first. Don was all against it and said I didn’t need an office. He said I could do the paperwork at home and turn up occasionally to check the work in progress. But I wanted to be there every day. This is my first project, and I care what happens to it. If there’s a problem, I want to know about it immediately. Don came around to my way of thinking, and he even put the office furniture in for me when I was out one day.”

  Connie said. “Are you converting the whole building into offices?”

  “Yes. There’s a growing need for them. The best thing about Cumberland Street is the ample parking. There are two big car parks opposite my building. I’ve been in touch with the council, and they’ve confirmed the car parks will be there for at least the next five years. Which is a good selling point for an office. People don’t want to walk too far these days.”

  “When the building is finished, will you keep your office?” Connie asked.

  “I might do. I like the area. Other contractors are already working on nearby buildings, and I think it’s going to be a great area.” Jocelyn paused. “Would you like me to put your names down for an office when they’re ready?”

  Sable said brusquely, “It depends what’s been going on with you. We don’t want to move there if a deranged killer is on the loose.”

  “Oh. Right.” Jocelyn was taken aback.

  Sable carried on, “Tell us exactly what’s been happening at your office.” Her pen was poised above the notepad on the table.

  “It started a few weeks ago. I’d lock my office up for the night and make sure every door on the way out was secure. But when I returned to my office the following day, I saw that things had been moved. Nothing much. Just pens on the floor, cups on their side on my desk, the drawer on my filing cabinet open. I thought I was imagining it at first, but when it went on for a few days, I got suspicious. I started taking pictures before I left each night, and then I’d take more upon my return. It proved that someone was sneaking into my office and moving things. I can show you the photos.”

  “Later,” Sable said. “Were there any signs of forced entry?”

  “No.”

  “Who else has a key to your office?” Sable asked.

  “Just me. And Don has a spare.”

  Sable made a couple of notes.

  Connie took up the questioning. “You said someone was trying to kill you. Why do you think that?”

  “A couple of days ago, when I went into my office first thing, I walked over to my chair and sat down without thinking. The chair collapse
d, and I fell to the floor narrowly missing some broken glass that had been placed there.”

  “Ouch,” Connie said. “Were you hurt?”

  “I’ve got a bruised bottom, but other than that I was okay. I don’t know how I managed to avoid that broken glass. That’s not all. I’ve got one of those huge water bottles in my office. I needed a drink after my fall, and so I filled my glass up. I was about to take a drink when I got a whiff of something. It was bleach. Someone had poisoned my water.” Jocelyn scratched her neck again. “I’m worried. Really worried. Do you think you can help me?”

  Connie shared a look with Sable and caught her small nod. Connie said, “Yes, we’ll take your case on. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “Thank you.” Jocelyn shifted in her seat and grimaced.

  Connie held her hand up, “Sorry! I didn’t mean that as a pun.”

  Jocelyn gave her a small smile. “It’s alright. The pain in my rear-end takes my mind off my itchy skin. Thank you so much. What happens now?”

  Chapter 2

  Some time later, Connie and Sable walked along the precinct in town.

  Sable glanced at Connie and said, “You can stop smiling now. You’re beginning to look crazed.”

  “I can’t help it. We’ve got our first paying client. This is great news. You’ve got to admit that.”

  Sable nodded. “I agree it is good news.”

  “I was beginning to worry that we’d ever get any paying clients. We have a lot of visitors to our website, and a lot of email enquiries, but never any proper clients.”

  Sable said, “I never doubted we’d have paying clients.”

  “Why?”

  “There are enough miscreants and evil-doers in this world to keep us busy for years to come. People are always up to no good.”

  “Not everyone.”

  “The vast majority are.”

  They stopped in front of Al’s Pizza and looked at the plain door at the side.

  Sable tried the door. It was locked. She said, “What do we do now? I thought you’d phoned him.”

  “I did.” Connie took her phone out. “He told me that we got here, I had to send him a text with a set of numbers. Hang on a minute.” She squinted at her phone and tapped on it.

  There was a quiet whirring sound above them. They looked up and saw a small camera aimed in their direction. A second later a clicking noise came from the door.

  Sable tried the door again. It opened. She raised one eyebrow. “This is ridiculous. Is there any need for such dramatics?”

  Connie smiled. “I like it. It makes me feel like a spy. I’d make an excellent spy. Quick, let’s go through before anyone notices us.”

  “Hey, Connie!” a voice called out behind them.

  Connie looked over at the woman who was waving at her and said, “Hi, Sheila. How are you?”

  “Not bad. Are you going into Garth’s spy shop?”

  “We are.”

  “Aye, you’ll need some stuff for your new business. I heard about your last two cases. Are you working on another one now?”

  “We are.”

  Sheila nodded. “Good luck with it. See you later.” She gave them a cheerful grin before walking away.

  Sable said dryly, “I can see how you’d make an excellent spy.”

  “There’s no need to be sarcastic. For all you know, I could already be a spy. I could have been working undercover for years. Come on.” Connie stepped through the door and headed for the stairs. Sable followed her.

  As they ascended, Connie said, “I knew a Garth once. He was at school with our Kevin. He was a skinny-looking thing who barely talked to anyone. I wonder if it’s the same Garth?”

  “It probably is. Or it will be someone who’s related to someone else you know. It seems to me like you know everyone in this town.”

  “It’s called being sociable.”

  “Is that another word for nosy?”

  They stopped at the closed door in front of them.

  Sable said, “Do you need to send another secret code to get through this door?”

  “No.” Connie reached out and opened the door.

  They walked through the door and stopped in their tracks.

  Connie felt her mouth drop open. A quick look at Sable confirmed her mouth had done the same.

  The large room they were standing in was lined with shelves. All sorts of everyday items were on the shelves: kettles, pens, sunglasses, light bulbs and even an electric toothbrush complete with a charger.

  Connie swallowed and hissed to Sable, “I thought this was a surveillance equipment shop. It looks more like a charity shop. We must be in the wrong place.”

  Sable’s eyes widened. “Connie, these objects are all surveillance items. I’ve seen the pens and sunglasses on Amazon, but not this other stuff. It’s amazing.”

  Connie frowned. “I don’t know what you mean. How can a kettle be used to spy on someone?”

  Sable moved to the kettle and picked it up. “There’ll be a hidden camera somewhere. And possibly a recording device.” She turned the kettle over. “Somewhere.”

  A man suddenly appeared at their side making them both jump. He put his hand out towards the kettle and said, “May I?”

  Sable handed the kettle over.

  The man pointed to the power switch. “Both the recording and listening devices are in here. The trick is to make sure these are aimed in the right direction.”

  Sable peered at the button. “That’s a brilliant idea.” She turned her attention to the short, well-built man in front of her. He was almost as wide as he was tall. The only hair on his head was the small, neatly trimmed beard adorning his chin. “I take it you’re Garth?”

  “I am indeed.” Garth put the kettle back. He held his hand out to Sable. “And you’re Sable Butterworth. How did that smoked salmon pie work out for you? I haven’t tried that new recipe yet.”

  Sable’s hand paused on its way to Garth. “Pardon? Fish pie? How did you know about that?”

  Garth grabbed her hand and pumped it. “I saw you in the supermarket last week. You got the last pie that was on special offer.”

  “But how did you know it was me? We’ve only just met.” Sable pulled her hand free.

  “I was standing right behind you and I never forget a face. I can’t, not in my line of business.” He turned his attention to Connie and gave her a broad grin. “I know who you are. How are your tomatoes coming along? I think putting them on the windowsill of your conservatory was a great idea.”

  Sable took a sharp intake of breath. “How on earth would you know that? And how do you know our names? Have you been spying on us? Have you planted cameras in our homes? I can’t believe the despicable lengths some people go to. There’s no respect for privacy anymore!”

  Connie said, “Sable, we’re here to buy spying equipment.”

  Sable folded her arms. “That’s not the point.”

  Connie studied Garth. “It is you! You were at school with our Kevin. I almost didn’t recognise you. You’ve changed since I last saw you.”

  Garth flexed his muscles. “I had to change. I kept getting beaten up.” He looked at Sable and said, “I only know about Connie’s tomatoes because I’m friends with Kevin on Facebook. He’s told me all about your new business. Also, I’ve had a call from DI Saffron McCue. She said you might call upon me.”

  Connie laughed. “Isn’t it a small world? Do you remember Saffy from school? She’s a few years older than you.”

  Garth cleared his throat, and spots of pink appeared on his cheeks. “I remember Saffy. I’m surprised she remembered me. Right, let’s get down to business. What sort of items are you looking for? This isn’t all I’ve got. There’s more stuff in the back. It depends on what you need. Come over to the table, and we’ll discuss your requirements. I’ve already put the kettle on because I knew you were on your way.” He caught the sharp look from Sable. “I didn’t mean the spy kettle; I meant the normal one.”

  He
led them over to a table in the corner of the room and proceeded to make cups of tea for them all. Then he took a seat, listened and made notes on his laptop as Sable explained about their line of business.

  Sable said, “Naturally, we don’t want anything too obvious. We need to be discreet if we’re going to be watching someone.”

  Garth looked them over. “You need something that blends in with you as a person. Something that could be easily hidden about your person. Do you have certain coats that you wear on a regular basis?”

  “I do,” Connie said. “But Sable wears a different jacket every day.”

  “There’s no harm in coordinating my outfits. I like to look smart,” Sable said.

  Garth said to Connie, “I could put some equipment in your coat. Perhaps in one of the buttons or on the collar. And if you use the same bag often, I can do something with that.” He looked at Sable. “You’re a bit of a problem.”

  Sable nodded. “That’s been said about me before. I do have a couple of bags that I use for most occasions. Could you do something with them?”

  “Of course. How about spectacles? Do you use them?”

  “I have some for reading,” Connie said. “Sable doesn’t, but she uses mine sometimes. I think she’s too vain to get her own.” She winked at Sable.

  Sable bristled. “I only need them now and again when my eyes are tired.”

  Garth made some more notes. “I can get some spectacles sorted out. Are you working on a case at the moment?”

  “We are,” Connie proudly told him. “We’ve got our first paying client.”

  “If you don’t mind, can you tell me what your case is about?”

  Sable said, “No, we can’t. It’s client confidentiality.”

  Connie said to Sable, “Our client hasn’t signed our form yet.”

  Sable looked at Garth. “I’d like you to sign a confidentiality agreement before we go further. I don’t want all and sundry knowing what we’ve bought from you.”

  “I already have one prepared.”

  Once the relevant forms were signed, and Sable was satisfied Garth wasn’t a security risk, she told him about their latest case.