The hospital car park was crammed to bursting and disgruntled would-be visitors circled the roads like predatory cats waiting to pounce on innocent mice.
‘Look, there’s a space!’ declared Rosie.
There followed an almost comedic dash for the parking bay around the one-way system, which she was thankful they won, but as they drew into the space a wave of guilt hit her. What if the driver of the silver Saab’s need was greater than their own? She craned her head over her shoulder to see with relief that the Saab had pulled into a space next to the pay meter.
‘Good God! You need to take out a mortgage to pay the parking fees!’ groaned Matt, reaching into his pocket for a handful of change.
‘Have you worked out what we’re going to say to Rick?’ asked Rosie as they made their way towards the reception area where they had arranged, via a sympathetic Helen, to meet Rick.
‘Not really. Let’s just see how it goes, shall we? Bearing in mind the contents of his last text, I was surprised Rick agreed to talk to us at all, especially in person.’
‘It’s probably testament to the boredom of being stuck in hospital.’
A coil of trepidation had begun its insidious journey around Rosie’s abdomen. As with many people, hospitals held painful memories, and this would be the first time she had set foot in one of their neon-bright corridors since she had lost her beloved father over twelve years ago. Her breath felt laboured from the concrete heavy block weighing down on her chest, and her head was stuffed with cotton wool, yet she knew she had to call on her reserves of courage to solve the mystery of Rick’s shooting and rescue Matt’s business. Anyway, she told herself sternly, other visitors to the hospital had far worse interviews to attend.
They had just stepped into the building when Matt’s phone buzzed.
‘Are you going to answer it?’
‘No, look, there’s Rick.’
‘I think you should at least see who’s calling.’
Matt extracted his phone and sighed. ‘It’s Freddie.’
‘Talk to him. It might be important.’
‘Hi, Fred.’
Matt’s eyes lingered on Rosie as he listened to Freddie’s report.
‘That’s great news, Freddie. Thanks for letting us know. I’m at the hospital with Rosie, visiting Rick, so I’ll pass the information on to them both. Catch you later.’ Matt slid his mobile into the back pocket of his jeans and met Rosie’s eyes, a hint of excitement ignited in their depths. ‘Would you believe the detectorists have found the riser and the limbs of the recurve bow used to shoot Rick? Both were discovered in a hollowed out oak tree in the woodland surrounding the Garside Priory. The police are testing them for fingerprints, but I doubt they’ll find any.’
‘You know, something else has just occurred to me…’
‘Matt! Rosie! You’re late. I’ve been sat here like an idiot for the last twenty minutes which means the coffees are on you!’
Rick spun his wheelchair towards the vending machine at speed, scattering a mother and toddler and an old man with a Zimmer frame from his path – he might have broken his ankle, but his pompous personality remained intact. Rosie rolled her eyes at Matt behind Rick’s back and went to buy them all a coffee while Matt found a quiet corner to have a chat.
‘Thanks for agreeing to talk to us, Rick. Rosie and I are as anxious as you are to get to the bottom of what happened.’
‘Well, there’s nothing else to do in this place except stare at a television screen. The doc refuses to discharge me until tomorrow at the earliest. I’d discharge myself, but that would probably affect any potential negligence claim.’
Rosie handed Rick a coffee, briefly wondering if his attitude would improve if she poured the hot beverage in his lap. She had been prepared to put Rick’s grumpy demeanour down to the fact he was in pain and had been through a traumatic experience that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. However, he did little to ingratiate himself to the innocent onlooker. She wondered if he ever allowed anything pleasant to pass his lips. He might be generous with his cash, but he certainly wasn’t very charitable with his words.
‘So, don’t just sit there gawping like a pair of goldfish, what did you want to ask me?’
Rosie stared at Matt, signalling that she wanted him to take the lead. She was irritated with herself but she had completely lost her nerve. It wasn’t just Rick’s belligerent attitude; the waiting room they were sitting in was almost identical to the one she had visited many years before – the same plastic seats, same linoleum floor, same dull walls, same stark overhead lighting, same smell. It was all she could do not to throw her hands in the air and run.
‘Okay. We wanted to ask you how you felt when you woke up on Monday morning, before you set off on your solo hike to the priory.’
‘How I felt? Well, my first thought was what a bunch of lightweights I had chosen to spend my time with – including the professionals.’ Rick gave Matt a malicious look, almost goading him to retaliate and when he didn’t, he continued. ‘We were there to see the sunrise and if I was the only person organized enough to make sure I was there on time, then hard luck on everyone else. It wasn’t my responsibility to wake everyone up like a mother hen. I intended to take a few fabulous photographs to show Phil, and maybe do a presentation when we got back to Manchester to the club members. To say I’m disappointed that didn’t happen is an understatement.’
Rick shifted his weight in his wheelchair and Rosie wonder how Matt was able to remain so calm, especially after his next comment.
‘I shall be requesting a full reimbursement of the cost of the camping trip from Ultimate Adventures. I trust there will be no problem with that, Matt?’
‘Of course not.’
‘And I only agreed to meet you today so I could tell you myself that I’ve instructed my solicitor to instigate personal injury proceedings on my behalf. I trust you are well insured?’
‘Ultimate Adventures holds all the appropriate certificates and insurances,’ said Matt politely but Rosie could see he had started to grind his teeth in an effort to keep a lid on his emotions. ‘Thank you for your candour. I will inform my insurance company to expect your correspondence.’
Rosie glanced from one man to the next, amazed that Matt was able to continue to sit next to the man who was clearly relishing every verbal dig. However, she also realized that Rick’s attitude would make it easier for Matt to ask the difficult questions they wanted answers to.
‘So, I take it you don’t know anything about the sedative that was found in everyone’s coffee – the reason you were the only one who was able to wake up on time?’
‘Sedative? What do you mean? There was no sedative in my coffee.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Hang on! Are you accusing me of spiking everyone’s drink?’
A dark crimson colour flooded Rick’s face and Rosie could feel his growing fury at the insinuation that he had been responsible. She didn’t have to be an expert in psychology to deduce that he was genuinely shocked at Matt’s question.
‘I’m not insinuating anything. I’m simply asking whether you were aware of the fact.’
‘This slanderous accusation is just a way of diverting blame from the substandard organization of the wild camping expedition. I…’ As Rosie watched on she could almost see the cogs turning behind Rick’s eyes as his anger morphed into curiosity. ‘Are you telling me that someone drugged you?’
‘Yes. Everyone on the trip felt groggy when they woke up apart from you.’
‘So … if that’s true, it means this whole thing was organized days, maybe even weeks, in advance!’
‘Exactly, and there’s something else you might like to know. A recurve bow and a quiver full of arrows have been discovered hidden in a hollowed-out tree near our camp site which proves the shooting was pre-meditated and that you were the intended victim.’
‘I really think the police should have called me about this first! Why should I have to learn about the discovery of the weapon that was used to shoot me from some random stranger?’ Rick spluttered.
‘I’m sure the police will contact you,’ soothed Matt in his best conciliatory tone, ignoring the slur on his, albeit strained, relationship with Rick and choosing instead to focus on the questions they had come to ask, especially now they knew for sure that the drugging was linked to the shooting. ‘Now that you know our coffee was spiked, do you still think the person responsible for all this is Phil?’
‘No, I don’t! That guy is totally useless, he couldn’t organize a party in a winery, let alone plan a crime!’
‘So, do you have any other suggestions?’ urged Rosie, keen to exhaust their enquiries so they could leave the hospital. Not only was a wave of nausea climbing through her chest, but she really didn’t want to spend any longer than necessary in Rick’s spiteful company.
‘Well, much as it pains me to say this about people who are supposed to be my friends, I reckon it could be any one of them, apart from the fact that they’re all cowards. But if I had to single one person out, then it would be Brad. I’ve uncovered some very disturbing information about the theft of ancient artefacts and if I wasn’t incarcerated in this place, I would be demanding that the police arrest him immediately! In fact, have you finished with this ridiculous interrogation? Because if you have I’m going back to the ward to call them right now!’
Rick swivelled round in his wheelchair and glanced down the corridor that had emptied of patients and visitors.
‘Where’s Helen? Helen! Helen!’
‘It’s been good to talk to you, Rick,’ said Rosie, as pleasantly as she could before linking her arm through Matt’s and all but galloping from the hospital and back to where they had left the SUV. ‘My God, Matt, broken ankle or not, I thought he was going to punch you at one point.’
‘So did I. I have to admit that I have a boatload of sympathy for Phil and Brad having to share their club with a man like Rick Forster.’
‘Me too! Not to mention how horrible it must be to be married to him! However, it looks like we’re still searching for the person who put the sedative in our bedtime drinks on Sunday night – which leaves us with three possible suspects. I’ve also remembered something else we need to look into.’
Rosie hopped into the passenger seat and took out her phone, feeling one hundred per cent better now they had left the hospital and Rick’s oppressive personality behind.
‘I’m no expert, but whoever shot Rick managed to score a direct hit with their second arrow which means they must be a fairly accomplished archer.’
‘I see where you’re going! Archery is a regulated sport with formal rules and regulations and codes of conduct. Why don’t you google every Archery GB registered club in the North West and make a few calls to see what you can find out about their membership whilst I drive us back to the windmill?’
Rosie spent the next hour trawling the internet, speaking to local archery club presidents, some more willing to chat to a potential new member than others. She managed to glean very little until she stumbled on a residential course run by a club in North Wales. The guy in charge regretted that he was unable to put her in touch with any fellow archers to regale her with all the fun times they had whilst shooting, but he did point her to a Facebook group with a public profile where their members posted photographs of competitions they took part in and the trophies they won for their respective clubs.
‘Matt! Stop! You have to look at this!’
Matt pulled over to the side of the road and took Rosie’s phone from her, his expression serious.
‘My God, Rosie, I think you’ve cracked it! I think we need to talk to the police immediately.’
‘There’s just one more thing I need to do to confirm what I think could be the motive. I’ll give my Uncle Martyn a call; he has friends in a Manchester law firm who’ll be able to take a quick trip to the Town Hall and we’ll have the proof we need to bring this mystery to a conclusion.’
‘I don’t know about your childhood dream to train as a criminal defence solicitor, Rosie, but you’d make an amazing Crown prosecutor or private investigator. Maybe Freddie is right; perhaps we should set up a new business together – especially if Rick is still intent on closing me down even after we have delivered the person responsible.’
‘I’m confident that once Rick hears what we’ve found out, the last thing on his mind will be pursuing a claim against Ultimate Adventures. Even the most comprehensive risk assessment couldn’t contemplate the possibility of being shot by an arrow!’
‘Thanks, Rosie. For saving my business, for everything. You are absolutely amazing!’
Rosie turned to Matt to offer a smile, but the intensity of his gaze whipped the air from her lungs. The atmosphere in the SUV was suddenly charged with electricity and her heart beat a cacophony of excitement and attraction against her ribcage. Her nerve endings tingled as she inched towards Matt, anticipating the sensation of feeling his lips on hers, his hands curled at her neck…
‘God! Who’s that!’ grumbled Rosie, grabbing her phone and glancing at the caller ID. ‘Oh, it’s Uncle Martyn. He was always a quick worker – thank God!’
Rosie would always be grateful to her father’s older brother who had come to their rescue when her mother had buried her head in the sand after her father’s death. Her childhood home had been repossessed, but her uncle had managed to sort everything out, pay off their debts from the proceeds, and help them buy their cosy flat above a bakery.
‘He’s emailed the document through – and look, I was right!’
‘We need to call the police right now. I’ll ask DS Kirkham to meet us at the Windmill Café, and this time you can do the honours of explaining what we’ve discovered to everyone, Mademoiselle Poirot.’