Rosie allowed herself a smile when she pulled into the car park at Ultimate Adventures, the memory of their ‘almost’ kiss still fresh in her mind. The familiar crunch of the tyres on the gravel was music to her ears because it meant she was about to spend time with Matt and Freddie, two of her favourite people in Norfolk.
Of course, she hadn’t always felt so upbeat about arriving at the outward-bound centre. In fact, for the first three months of being in Willerby, she had steadfastly avoided gracing the wood-built headquarters for extreme sports with her presence. The very thought of flinging herself from a flimsy platform suspended ten metres from the ground filled her with horror, not to mention the sight of the mud-caked quad bikes lined up outside the storeroom waiting for a rider to take one of them for a spin.
She had changed a great deal since arriving at the Windmill Café and she sent up a missive of gratitude to her guardian angel who had obviously just returned from a gap year. Six months ago, all she could think about was the heartbreak of witnessing her then boyfriend familiarizing himself with the intimate requirements of one of their bridal clients. Now, here she was, assisting a friend in uncovering the truth behind an incident that could affect the future of his business.
Rosie’s thoughts then flicked to her father and how proud he would have been of her, not just for coming to a friend’s aid in solving the mystery, but also for having the self-confidence to even think she could do such a thing. All she had left to work on was her predisposition to recoil at the sight of clutter; something she was about to face imminently when she entered Ultimate Adventures’ office and kitchen.
‘Hello? Anyone in?’
‘Oh, hi Rosie, great to see you. Fancy a coffee?’ asked Matt, indicating the kettle with a nod of his head.
‘No, thanks, I’ve just had one at the café.’
She averted her eyes from the jumble of washing up crammed into the sink and concealed a shudder of anxiety. She fought an almost overwhelming urge to grab a cloth and start wiping down the crumb-scattered benches – until she saw the state of the cloth! Fifty shades of grey came to mind – she wondered whether the kitchen had ever seen a spray of bleach. However, she hadn’t driven to Ultimate Adventures to spend the day cleaning.
‘Are you here for that zip wire ride you’ve been promising to try?’ asked Matt, a dangerous twinkle in his eyes. ‘No better time than when we’re closed to the paying public.’
‘You know that’s never going to happen, right?’
‘Never say never! Okay, so what about a quad bike safari? I thought I’d take the opportunity whilst we’re closed to give the bikes a good clean, but…’
‘Matt, I’ve come to tell you that we can strike off two people from our list of suspects. I’ve been doing a bit of … well, I suppose my father would have called it cross-examining, whilst we were baking this morning.’ She inhaled a long breath and relayed the details of her conversation with Helen and Steph. ‘So, we can definitely discount Helen and her friend Tim Latimer.’
‘Good work, Ms Watson. And you’ll be pleased to know that I haven’t been slacking in the amateur detection arena either. As soon as I got back here, I called Phil and asked about taking a look at the Society’s accounts. He was a bit hesitant at first, but relented when I told him that if we could identify Rick’s assailant quickly, the police might not need to question everyone. After seeing the books, I can understand his lack of enthusiasm.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It seems the Myth Seekers Society isn’t what you would call flush with funds. In fact, the accounts are in a complete mess. Phil was right when he told us he wasn’t the best bookkeeper, but it’s more than incompetence. Looks like our reluctant treasurer was helping himself to the money. Not a lot, and only two withdrawals, but still, if Rick found out about it I’m sure he would have wanted to expose him in the most humiliating way possible.’
‘And Rick’s an experienced accountant. It wouldn’t have taken him long to discover any discrepancies,’ added Rosie, not surprised to find she wasn’t enjoying the turn of events. She didn’t really want someone as nice as Phil to be the potential culprit.
‘Exactly.’
‘So, do you think Rick threatened to report Phil to the police for stealing from the members? That Phil decided to silence him and like everything else he does, he bungled it?’
‘Well, it’s a bit of a leap, but it’s a possibility, don’t you think?’
‘Okay, let’s talk to him about it, if only to rule him out as well.’
She pushed her chair back, anxious not only to ask Phil about what Matt had found out, but also to get out of the cluttered room where she felt as though the walls were starting to close in on her, debris flying from the surfaces and whipping her emotions into a maelstrom of panic. Her heartbeat had quickened and this time it had nothing to do with Matt’s proximity and everything to do with the mess. However, before she was able to escape, Matt grabbed her arm, his face serious.
‘Rosie, I want you to know how grateful I am for your support. I haven’t told Freddie or Mia, but I’ve had to cancel five lucrative, corporate team-building expeditions this week and unless we open again by the beginning of next week, Ultimate Adventures will slip into the red. We need a minimum of three bookings every week to stay afloat. I’ve already fielded a couple of calls from Dan Forrester at the Willerby Gazette wanting an interview about what happened and asking whether we intend to offer any more wild camping trips this season. I wasn’t going to tell him that we’ve actually got another two planned before the end of November, because once this fiasco finds its way into the press we can kiss goodbye to those bookings too. It’s an absolute disaster.’
Rosie’s stomach swooped down to her toes and back when she saw the anguish on Matt’s face and she was even more determined to uncover the truth than she had been before. She grabbed her phone and before Matt could refuse, she dialled Phil’s number.
‘Hi, Phil, it’s Rosie here. Thanks for sending the accounts over for Matt to take a look at. Would you mind if we asked you a few more questions? We could come over to your lodge or you could drive up to the office at the outward-bound centre – bring Steph if you want.’
‘Okay. I won’t pretend I wasn’t expecting a call. We’ll be with you in thirty minutes,’ sighed Phil, making it clear that he would rather swim naked in the North Sea in the middle of winter.
‘Great, see you then.’ Rosie turned to Matt with a wide smile. ‘Simple.’
‘Thanks, Rosie. I owe you. I admit I had a bit of a dip in my usual effervescent self-confidence – it won’t happen again. To show you how grateful I am, I’ll rustle up the coffee because I totally understand your reluctance to enter the war zone that is the Ultimate Adventures kitchen.’
Rosie listened to Matt crashing and banging around in the tiny kitchen as he prepared their drinks. She cringed when she thought of having to pretend to enjoy his offering without actually taking a sip. Unless Matt and Freddie had had a complete personality transplant since the last time she was there, she didn’t want to imagine what state the mugs would be in. She was about to start the counting exercises her sister Georgina had taught her for whenever she felt overwhelmed by her hygiene monsters, but just then she saw Phil’s battered old Volvo drive past the window.
‘They’re here!’
Rosie went to greet Phil and Steph at the door of the wooden reception lodge and wasn’t surprised to see that Phil’s face had drained of whatever little colour he had. He hesitated on the threshold, nervously pushing his spectacles up to the bridge of his nose and fiddled with the numerous zipped pockets of his combat trousers. For once, he didn’t have his camera slung around his neck and he was clearly at a loss to know what to do with his hands.
‘Hi, thanks for coming over. Matt’s in the kitchen making some coffee for us. Why don’t you grab a seat and I’ll tell him you’re here?’
‘Thanks, Rosie,’ smiled Steph, ushering her husband towards the pine table in the corner of the room. She smoothed the skirt of her peach-and-mint printed dress over her buttocks and sat down gingerly on the flimsy plastic chair.
‘Thanks for letting me take a look at the Myth Seekers Society’s accounts, Phil,’ began Matt as he placed the tray carrying the coffee mugs onto the heavily scarred table before going off to collect his laptop.
Phil looked like he was on the verge of tears. His lips parted to reply to Matt, but no words came out. Steph grabbed his trembling fingers and raised her chin so she could face Matt and Rosie head on. Rosie could see from the expression on Steph’s face that she knew exactly what Matt had found in the books and had taken the decision to speak about it before being asked to justify the irregularities.
‘Phil was given the unenviable task of being the Myth Seekers club treasurer, but he has never professed to be the world’s greatest bookkeeper. Heaven knows why Rick didn’t just take over the whole damn society, especially as accountancy is his area of professional expertise. Richard Forster isn’t a very nice person, as I’m sure you have discovered already. He’s a bully who dishes out disparaging remarks like confetti, not only to Phil, but to Brad and Emma and most of the other long-standing members – some of whom felt they had no option but to leave. But Phil and Brad love the club so they stick it out. Yes, the accounts are a mess and Phil would bring the books home and worry himself stupid about them.’
‘And the two unauthorized withdrawals?’ asked Matt, getting straight to the point.
‘They were to pay for a plaque to commemorate the Myth Seekers Society’s twentieth anniversary,’ said Phil, casting a quick glance at Rosie. ‘Brad and I followed the correct procedure for its proposal as laid down by Rick’s recently introduced written constitution; we drafted a resolution, submitted it to the committee – which was quorate – and put it to a vote. It was rejected because Rick didn’t want it to go ahead, probably because it wasn’t his idea – and he held the casting vote.’
‘So why the withdrawals?’
‘I was determined to mark the anniversary. I know it was wrong, but I went behind Rick’s back and ordered the plaque anyway. It was more expensive than I had anticipated and I couldn’t afford it myself, so I paid for it out of the Society’s funds. I admit I made two unauthorized withdrawals – the first was for the deposit and the second was to pay for the plaque on delivery. I broke the rules. Rick found out and threatened to report me to the police for theft.’
All the while he spoke, Phil studied his fingernails in his lap. Now that he had confessed his crime out aloud he glanced across at Steph, his eyes brimming with tears, but he seemed to gain strength from her unwavering support.
‘I know what I did was wrong. Rick insisted it was his duty to inform everyone in the club what I’d done, and that he had to follow the written procedures laid down in our constitution for such misdemeanours which was to report the matter to the authorities. He only postponed his trip to the police station because he didn’t want to spoil Helen’s weekend treat. I know all this makes it look like I have a jolly good reason for wanting to get my own back on Rick, but I had nothing to do with what happened, I swear.’
‘Of course you didn’t, darling,’ said Steph, her expression indignant. ‘Look, Matt, my husband’s a decent and honest man, who’s never even held a bow and arrow, never mind used one. Rick Forster was an arrogant dictator who made plenty of enemies, in his professional life as well as his personal life. I have no doubt Rosie has filled you in on how he has treated Helen? That man takes an inordinate amount of pleasure from victimizing and belittling good people who perhaps aren’t as accustomed to the cut and thrust of life in the fast lane as he is. I think we should be looking in a different direction for the person responsible for shooting him.’
Steph sat back in her chair and folded her arms, a challenge in her eyes – which melted like a chocolate fireguard when Matt said, in his usual imitable way, ‘I agree with you, Steph. Can you tell us about your own movements yesterday morning?’
‘My movements?’ Steph spluttered, her soft, powdery features stretching in surprise at the unexpected question. ‘I didn’t shoot Rick if that’s what you are implying! I dislike him tremendously but I wouldn’t sink so low as to make him part of my life in any way. These people are best ignored in the hope that they’ll crawl back under the dark dank stone they came from!’
‘So, your movements yesterday?’
Steph stared at Matt, then looked at Rosie with incredulity.
‘Steph, dear, you’ve got nothing to hide. Tell him.’
‘Well, as you know, Helen and I were the only guests still at the lodges on Sunday night. I couldn’t sleep so I decided to make a cup of hot chocolate and that was when I saw Helen disappear in the Porsche. I went back to bed and my alarm woke me at seven-thirty as usual. I showered, dressed and made myself some breakfast then snuggled up on the sofa to read my book. That was when I noticed the note Helen had pushed through the door saying she had gone to the village which she clearly wanted me to discover first thing in the morning. We all know where she was, don’t we?’
‘So no one can vouch for your whereabouts between 10 p.m. and when the camping group returned to inform you that Rick had been shot?’
‘Well, I … well … no, I suppose…’
‘Let’s just think this through for the sake of conjecture. You could have driven out to the priory, shot Rick as an act of revenge for the way he treated your husband and to stop him from reporting his discoveries to the police, then returned to your lodge without anyone knowing you had left.’
‘Now wait just a minute, Matt! Steph’s a committed pacifist, she even insists that I carry spiders outside instead of washing them down the plughole. Really, I must insist…’
‘Sorry, Phil, but this is the sort of thing that the police will be considering when they interview you.’
‘Really? And how is Steph supposed to have mastered the intricacies of bowmanship? It’s not something you can do without intensive training, you know. And although the first arrow missed, the second was pretty accurate.’
‘That’s a very good point. I’ll definitely make some enquiries about archery clubs in the Manchester area.’
‘Good!’
Silence descended and the atmosphere was as thick as treacle. Unlike Matt, Rosie was a great believer in intuition and her gut instinct was telling her that neither Phil, nor Steph, had anything to do with Rick’s shooting. Both of them had had ample opportunity to cause Rick harm in a much easier fashion than going to the trouble of learning the correct way to hold a bow. However, they couldn’t discount Phil or Steph just yet. Then another idea pinged into Rosie’s head.
‘Can I make a suggestion, Phil?’
‘What?’
‘It looks like Rick’s probably going to be in hospital for the next few days at least, and then he’ll need some time at home to convalesce. I think if you were to re-present your resolution for the commemorative plaque to a newly-convened committee – without Rick in attendance – the proposal might be carried in your favour, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Yes, yes I do. Thanks, Rosie, I’ll do that. Look, find out who did this, will you, so we can all get back to normal.’
‘Don’t worry, we’re trying our best,’ muttered Matt, downing the last dribble of his coffee and returning his mug to the tray with a clatter.
In a reversal of their arrival, it was Phil who lead Steph from the wooden cabin, his arm around her waist, whispering platitudes as he went. Matt, on the other hand, dropped his head into his hands and Rosie groaned in frustration too.
‘So, that went well,’ said Rosie.
‘True, this mystery-solving lark is a lot harder than you think! We still have four suspects on our list with excellent motives for wanting Rick out of the way – none of whom have alibis – and we’ve still got Brad and Emma to talk to.’
‘Hang on, I thought we’d discounted Helen and Tim?’
‘As they’ve provided each other’s alibi, don’t you think there’s a possibility they could have done this together?’
‘Oh, yes, I never thought…’
Rosie’s head began to throb. One step forward, two steps back! How proud would her father be now?