The Whitby Murders (A Yorkshire Murder Mystery) J. Ellis (distant reading TXT) 📖

‘It’s fine,’ said Louise, smiling. ‘We’re not breaking in. We’ve got the key.’

Ben just smiled back. The apartment felt cold and a bit damp. Louise went into the sitting room and pulled back the curtains. They sat down on armchairs opposite each other.

‘I hate coming here,’ said Louise, looking around the room with an expression of distaste. ‘It’s a gorgeous apartment, but it’s spooky coming in without Andrea. It’s as if she’s haunting the place. It was awful when I came here with Dad.’

‘I’m sure it was.’ Ben smiled sympathetically. He sat with his hands in his pockets. ‘What’s all this about then?’

Louise frowned and looked embarrassed as if she didn’t know where to begin. ‘Ben, I think you know I’ve got some feelings for you,’ she said falteringly. He didn’t reply and looked away as if he was also embarrassed. ‘I also think you might be in a bit of trouble and I want to help.’

Ben raised his eyebrows. ‘What kind of trouble?’

Louise looked him in the eyes. ‘Did you take that picture that was on the wall in the entrance hall?’ She pointed in the direction of the hall.

‘Why do you think I did that?’

‘Because I know you came to visit Andrea here and you would have seen it then. I think you recognised it as something valuable. I know you’re short of money and want to spend more time on your art. I’ve been thinking that you could have taken the keys from Andrea’s stuff at the flat in Whitby and come over here and taken it.’

‘What, in the middle of the night?’

‘Look, I know it’s a wild thing to accuse you of, but it’s been bugging me. Please just tell me if I’m wrong.’

Ben looked down and sighed. After a pause, he said: ‘No, you’re right, I did take it. It’s a lost painting by Edvard Munch, and it’s worth a lot of money. I thought nobody would miss it. Have you told anyone else you think I took it?’

Louise was relieved. ‘No, and I’m glad you’ve admitted it. Munch. Didn’t he paint that picture called “The Scream”?’

‘Yes.’

She looked at him sternly. ‘I want you to return it, Ben. You know you shouldn’t have taken it. There’s a chance you’ll get caught and even if you don’t it will be on your conscience. I can understand why you did it, but just bring it back and I won’t say anything. I don’t think you’re really a thief; the temptation was just too great. Am I right?’

Ben looked sheepish and then he smiled at her. ‘You’re right, again. I’ll bring it back as soon as I can. Will you let me in here?’

‘Of course. And then it’s over. No one will know.’

‘No, they won’t.’ He looked at her and then stood up and came close. He took in a deep breath as if he was finding it difficult to know what to say next. ‘You know you said that you had, you know, feelings for me?’ He tentatively put an arm on her shoulder. ‘I’m fond of you, too.’

‘Oh, Ben!’ Louise smiled up at him. As they entered an embrace, he whipped his other hand out of his pocket. It was holding a ligature which he got round her neck as he moved swiftly behind her. Louise’s eyes widened in surprise and shock and she gave out a muffled cry.

Suddenly Steph appeared from where she’d been listening behind the door to the kitchen. She got her arm around Ben’s neck and forced him to drop the cord.

Two more officers from the Leeds force, one female, came in from where they’d been hiding in a bedroom. The female officer went to Louise where she’d slumped to the floor, the other helped Steph to get the handcuffs on Morton and checked him for any more weapons.

‘Ben Morton,’ began Steph. ‘I’m arresting you for the murders of Hugh Preston, Andrea Barnes, and Dominic Holgate and for the attempted murder of Louise Oldroyd. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

Morton remained silent. Louise screamed: ‘Ben? No! Oh my God!’ and started to cry.

‘Okay,’ continued Steph. ‘Let’s get him into the car. I’ll phone for help; she’s had a terrible shock. You two get him down to the station and I’ll wait here with her for the ambulance. I’ll secure the building. When you get back someone needs to arrange his transfer to Whitby.’

‘Okay, Sarge,’ said one of the officers as Morton was led out of the flat to the police car parked in a secluded back street. Steph checked that the keys to the flat were in her pocket as she knelt by the distraught figure of Louise on the floor.

‘Why, how . . . are you here?’ Louise struggled to talk.

‘Let’s say it was an instinct,’ replied Steph. ‘I felt you were in danger so I had a duplicate set of keys to the flat cut and we were able to get in here to monitor what was happening.’

Louise was rubbing her neck. ‘Oh my god, I’ve been such a fool. Does Dad know what’s happened?’

‘Not yet. He’s still over in Whitby. He wasn’t able to do anything so I’ve dealt with it myself. I’ll be calling him soon, so don’t worry. The ambulance is coming to take you in for a check-up, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.’

Louise nodded and put her hands up to her face. It was all too much to take in, but she was dimly aware through the awful shock, that the terrible ordeal that had begun in the escape room was now over.

In Whitby, everyone was focused on the drama surrounding the arrest of Elaine Pesku.

Granger and Oldroyd had come down to the harbour to witness the stand-off between the police and the desperate fugitive. An armed officer was delivering messages via a