Why was Janet back so soon?
She stepped hastily out of her daughter’s room and began to run lightly down the stairs. Once in the hall, she called out, making her way to the kitchen.
‘Janet? Darling, where …’
Angela never got the chance to finish the sentence.
Chapter 31
Trudy and Clement left the church, neither one of them in any hurry to head back to their respective homes. Since it was another lovely day, they strolled to one end of the village and then back again, taking their time. In the hedgerows the first of the dog roses were beginning to bloom, and cow parsley was frothing creamy lace umbrella-like flower-heads alongside the road verges.
From a dense hawthorn thicket, a yellowhammer called out his song of ‘a little bit of bread and no cheese’, claiming the desirable residence as his own.
‘It’s going to be really warm today,’ Trudy remarked, as Clement paused to raise his Trilby hat and flick back his thick white hair with a hand that seemed to tremble slightly.
‘Yes,’ Clement agreed. His hat secure, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a roll of strong-flavoured mints and popped one into his mouth. Trudy had noticed his fondness for these mint sweets before, and it always struck her as slightly out of character – although she couldn’t really have said why.
He casually thrust his trembling hand into one of his trouser pockets, out of sight.
‘I suppose we ought to call on Mrs Baines and find out why she’s so out of sorts – although I fear the answer will be obvious. But you never know, it might be significant.’
‘Yes,’ Trudy said at once. ‘I for one think it’s curious that Janet and Ronnie have decided to start advertising the fact that they’re a couple, don’t you?’
Clement didn’t, particularly, but then he wasn’t twenty years old and intrigued with youthful romance. ‘I think now might be a good time to see if we can’t find out,’ he temporised. ‘Let’s go and see if Mrs Baines has any insights.’
When they got there, the front door to the Baines’ house stood slightly open, and as they noticed it on their approach up the garden path, Trudy and Clement exchanged quick glances. Of course, it was already turning into a very hot day, so it was always possible that Angela had left the doors and windows open to let in some air. Nevertheless, they both felt a sense of unease as they approached the door, though neither one showed it.
At the entrance, Clement pushed door open a little further, revealing an empty hallway and called out. ‘Hello? Anyone home? Mrs Baines?’
Somewhere in the back of the house there came a furtive sound of rushed movement. It immediately triggered a knee-jerk reaction in Trudy who, before Clement could stop her, pushed past him and darted into the hall. Through the open door of the first room on her left she could see a small study, and a quick glance confirmed that it was deserted. If the house was being burgled, then at least the thief hadn’t ransacked the whole house yet. She moved quickly down to the open door at the end, aware that Clement was now right behind her.
Like the front door had been, the back kitchen door was also open – and just moving slowly backwards on its hinges, as if it had been pushed violently open and was now going back on itself.
Again, acting instinctively, she ran to it to look out, but just as she reached it, she heard Clement give a swift and sharp exclamation behind her. It made her hesitate and turn around. For some reason, she saw him suddenly dart off behind the large, kitchen table and bend down.
Trudy, reluctant to give up the chase, thrust her head out of the door and looked around the back garden. Had she seen a fleeing cat or dog, she would have felt very sheepish indeed, but there was no sign of anyone in the Baines’ garden – animal or human.
And yet the air around her seemed almost to thrum, and although she would never have been so rash as to write her feelings down in an official report, she was sure that someone, possibly panic-stricken, had just run through the garden.
‘Trudy, call an ambulance!’ Clement’s tense voice brought her scuttling back into the kitchen in time to see her friend bent over the prone form of Angela Baines. Her face looked slack and pale, and there was blood seeping out from under her head. As she watched, Clement bent down and put a finger to the side of her neck.
Trudy froze and held her breath as she waited for his verdict.
‘Ambulance!’ he repeated tersely, and Trudy, shaken from her temporary shock, ran to the hall, where she’d noticed a telephone resting on a console table as they’d passed. She quickly dialled the emergency number, asked for an ambulance and gave the address. Then she hung up and dialled her own station number. On a Sunday, she doubted that DI Jennings would be in, (rank had its privileges as she’d often been told!) but she quickly related the situation to PC Walter Swinburne, who was on duty, knowing she could trust him to quickly set things in motion. He might be the oldest PC there – and something of a station joke – but he could still work fast and competently when it was required.
She darted back to the kitchen doorway and paused, watching as Dr Ryder put his ear to the woman’s chest. Her own heart was beating so fast in her chest she actually put up a hand to her sternum and pressed down. ‘Is she going to be all right?’ Trudy asked, her voice just a little tremulous.
Clement’s lips thinned, but he sat back on his heels and looked at her severely. ‘Her pulse is erratic, and her breathing reedy. The ambulance had better get here quickly.’
Trudy swallowed hard. ‘Has
