Read Online ONCE UPON A LIE (A Fitzjohn Mystery) by Jill Paterson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jill Paterson
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she spied Betts.
‘Oh, Martin. Just the person I wanted to see. I’ve just this minute found your running shoes in the laundry cupboard. The ones that got soaked the night you helped me with the greenhouse.’
F itzjohn eyed Betts suspiciously as Sophie darted back in to the laundry, and reappeared with the shoes. She handed them to Betts.
‘Did you find the thermos , Sophie?’ asked Fitzjohn.
‘Not yet, but I’m sure it’s there. ’
‘Then lock up when you leave and mind what I said. Sit-ins can get ugly.’
‘ I will, Uncle Alistair,’ she answered while smiling at Betts. ‘It’s lovely to see you again, Martin.’
Carrying his shoes, Betts looked back over his shoulder and smiled as he and Fitzjohn left.
‘ I thought I made it clear that my niece is off limits, Betts,’ said Fitzjohn when they reached the car.
‘You did, sir . And it is… clear, that it.’
‘Then can you tell me why you were here, with Sophie, while I was away in England? And why your shoes were in my laundry cupboard.’ Fitzjohn glared at Betts over the car roof.
‘ I came over to help Sophie with the greenhouse. I must have left my shoes... behind.’ Betts’s voice tapered off. ‘It’s not the way it sounds… exactly. You see, while you were away, we had a storm. A bad storm. Hail stones, the lot. One of the panes of glass in your greenhouse broke and Sophie rang and asked me if I could fix it.’
‘And you said yes? What do you know about installing glass?’
‘I don’t , and I didn’t. I just sealed it up with green garbage bags and masking tape until Sophie could get someone out to replace it the next day. She was concerned about the orchids, sir. She had visions of them all being destroyed by the time you got home.’
‘That doe sn’t explain why you left your shoes behind.’
‘Oh, I can explain that too, sir. You see, they got soaked while I was out there putting the plastic over the break in the glass. Later, I took them off while Sophie made me a hot drink. She gave me a pair of yours to wear home.’
Fitzjohn grimaced. ‘You wore a pair of my shoes? A better question. How did you manage to get your large feet in to a pair of my shoes?’
‘ It wasn’t easy,’ said Betts. ‘In the end, I gave up and Sophie gave me a pair of your rubber boots. A green pair. I’ve still got them. I’ll return them tomorrow.’
‘ See that you do, Sergeant.’ Skeptical that he had been told the whole story, but at the same time amused, Fitzjohn got in to the car. ‘Be warned, Betts. Sophie is far too young for you. She’s barely twenty years old.’
‘ You’re right, sir. She is. Too young. For me, that is.’
‘Good, I’m glad you agree. Now, I want to turn our attention to Michael Rossi’s solicitor.’ Fitzjohn pulled his seat belt on.
‘Before we do, sir, a couple of things have turned up. Firstly, other than the phone calls that we know Michael Rossi received on the day of his death, he also received one from his estranged wife, Stella Rossi. And judging from the time of the call, he would have just arrived back in Sydney.’
‘So, we can dismiss the idea that her call had any bearing on him leaving the winery earlier than planned. What else, Betts?’
‘I ran a check on Pierce Whitehead, sir. Apparently, he lives in South Africa.’
‘ What ?’
‘He h as done for the past six years.’
A stunned look on his face , Fitzjohn said, ‘So who’s the man purporting to be our winemaker?’
‘I’ve got Williams working on it, sir. He’s trying to contact the real Mr Whitehead in = to see if he’s able to identify our imposter.’
‘Good. In the meantime, w here can we find Michael Rossi’s solicitor on a Sunday morning?’
‘ At his home in Lavender Bay, sir. I called ahead. He’s expecting us.’
A short, lean man opened the door, his tousled brown hair dipping over his
‘Oh, Martin. Just the person I wanted to see. I’ve just this minute found your running shoes in the laundry cupboard. The ones that got soaked the night you helped me with the greenhouse.’
F itzjohn eyed Betts suspiciously as Sophie darted back in to the laundry, and reappeared with the shoes. She handed them to Betts.
‘Did you find the thermos , Sophie?’ asked Fitzjohn.
‘Not yet, but I’m sure it’s there. ’
‘Then lock up when you leave and mind what I said. Sit-ins can get ugly.’
‘ I will, Uncle Alistair,’ she answered while smiling at Betts. ‘It’s lovely to see you again, Martin.’
Carrying his shoes, Betts looked back over his shoulder and smiled as he and Fitzjohn left.
‘ I thought I made it clear that my niece is off limits, Betts,’ said Fitzjohn when they reached the car.
‘You did, sir . And it is… clear, that it.’
‘Then can you tell me why you were here, with Sophie, while I was away in England? And why your shoes were in my laundry cupboard.’ Fitzjohn glared at Betts over the car roof.
‘ I came over to help Sophie with the greenhouse. I must have left my shoes... behind.’ Betts’s voice tapered off. ‘It’s not the way it sounds… exactly. You see, while you were away, we had a storm. A bad storm. Hail stones, the lot. One of the panes of glass in your greenhouse broke and Sophie rang and asked me if I could fix it.’
‘And you said yes? What do you know about installing glass?’
‘I don’t , and I didn’t. I just sealed it up with green garbage bags and masking tape until Sophie could get someone out to replace it the next day. She was concerned about the orchids, sir. She had visions of them all being destroyed by the time you got home.’
‘That doe sn’t explain why you left your shoes behind.’
‘Oh, I can explain that too, sir. You see, they got soaked while I was out there putting the plastic over the break in the glass. Later, I took them off while Sophie made me a hot drink. She gave me a pair of yours to wear home.’
Fitzjohn grimaced. ‘You wore a pair of my shoes? A better question. How did you manage to get your large feet in to a pair of my shoes?’
‘ It wasn’t easy,’ said Betts. ‘In the end, I gave up and Sophie gave me a pair of your rubber boots. A green pair. I’ve still got them. I’ll return them tomorrow.’
‘ See that you do, Sergeant.’ Skeptical that he had been told the whole story, but at the same time amused, Fitzjohn got in to the car. ‘Be warned, Betts. Sophie is far too young for you. She’s barely twenty years old.’
‘ You’re right, sir. She is. Too young. For me, that is.’
‘Good, I’m glad you agree. Now, I want to turn our attention to Michael Rossi’s solicitor.’ Fitzjohn pulled his seat belt on.
‘Before we do, sir, a couple of things have turned up. Firstly, other than the phone calls that we know Michael Rossi received on the day of his death, he also received one from his estranged wife, Stella Rossi. And judging from the time of the call, he would have just arrived back in Sydney.’
‘So, we can dismiss the idea that her call had any bearing on him leaving the winery earlier than planned. What else, Betts?’
‘I ran a check on Pierce Whitehead, sir. Apparently, he lives in South Africa.’
‘ What ?’
‘He h as done for the past six years.’
A stunned look on his face , Fitzjohn said, ‘So who’s the man purporting to be our winemaker?’
‘I’ve got Williams working on it, sir. He’s trying to contact the real Mr Whitehead in = to see if he’s able to identify our imposter.’
‘Good. In the meantime, w here can we find Michael Rossi’s solicitor on a Sunday morning?’
‘ At his home in Lavender Bay, sir. I called ahead. He’s expecting us.’
A short, lean man opened the door, his tousled brown hair dipping over his
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