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Murder on Tyneside (Agnes Lockwood Mysteries Book 1)

Murder on Tyneside (Agnes Lockwood Mysteries Book 1)


Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
A fun British whodunit
— Amazon Review
 
Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
Lovable and entertaining
— Amazon Review
Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
This well-written book kept me interested from start to finish
— Amazon Review

Book summary

Recently widowed Agnes Lockwood visits Tyneside in Northeast England to reconnect with her past. When valuable jewelry disappears from her hotel, Chief Inspector Alan Johnson takes charge of the investigation. Recognizing Agnes as an old school friend, they renew their friendship, and Agnes becomes curious about the case. However, their quiet evening takes a dark turn when they discover a body by the roadside. Despite Alan's warnings to stay away from the case, Agnes's inquisitive nature pulls her deeper into the mystery, leading to unexpected twists and turns.

Excerpt from Murder on Tyneside (Agnes Lockwood Mysteries Book 1)

Chapter One

Agnes Lockwood pulled up her collar. She realised she should have worn her scarf. But with the sun beaming through the window of her hotel room, she had thought it wouldn’t be necessary.

It felt good to be back on Tyneside at last. A number of years had passed since she’d last been here. Coming back to visit the place of her birth was something she had wanted to do for a long time. Yet, somehow, there had never been time. Even from the age of twelve, when her family left the area, her life had run in the fast lane. Until now, some forty years later, there had never been time to slow down and reflect on the past.

 It all began when her father had been offered an important diplomatic post in France, which resulted in her family making the move away from Tyneside. On their return, her father was offered a job based in London. Therefore it was impractical for them to live too far from his place of work. Looking back, it seemed strange they had never found time to visit Tyneside.

But now, having finally made the decision to visit the north east, Agnes had chosen to stay in a hotel on the quayside – once the very heart of Tyneside.

Agnes moved across the pavement to the edge of the quay and looked down at the River Tyne. It was certainly much cleaner than she remembered. When she was last here, it had seemed more like a mud bath than an imposing river flowing through the city to the North Sea. Back then, it was said you only had to jump into the Tyne and you would die through the sheer pollution in the water.

Still gazing down at the river, it occurred to her there must have been accidents back then; where men died because they slipped and fell into the murky water. Some may have even taken their own lives by throwing themselves into the river, because they had found life too hard to bear. But worse still, how many might have been brutally murdered; their bodies thrown into the water never to be seen again?

She shuddered at the thought. Thankfully those days were over. Glancing back along the quayside, she realised it wasn’t just the river that was clean; the whole place had changed. The heavy industry of Tyneside had long disappeared making way for cafés, restaurants and other more genteel activities.

Even though Agnes hadn’t been in the city when the changes were taking place, she had read about what was happening. Yet she still hadn’t been prepared for it to be quite so fashionable. She sighed as she turned away from the river and leaned back against the railings. The past was gone; there was no point her dwelling on it. Like the people who still lived here, she needed to change with the times. To move on. But move on where? What did the future hold for a widow of a certain age?

She scolded herself for having such negative thoughts. First of all, she needed to pull herself together and stop dreaming about the past. Life had been good to her.

Jim Lockwood had been a wonderful husband and a devoted father. A smile broke across her lips as she thought about her boys. They were men now. Married and living on the other side of the world. Yet to her, they would always be ‘her boys’.

Though there had been a number of years before Jim was due to retire, they had made plans to visit their sons more often when that day came. What would there be to stop them? They would have both the time and the money. Jim had held down a good job with the foreign office and had saved a great deal of money over the years to make sure they had a comfortable retirement. But then, all too soon, an aggressive form of cancer had taken Jim from her and her world had fallen apart. She sniffed and blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. It just wasn’t fair.

Her boys had wanted her to sell up and move out there with them when their father had died and, for a short while, she had been sorely tempted. Yet she had decided against the idea, firmly telling them they had their own lives to lead.

 Pulling herself together, she glanced at her watch. Very soon she would need to return to her hotel and change for dinner. She looked back towards where her hotel was situated and was surprised to find that she hadn’t actually walked very far. Perhaps she had time to continue on to the foot of the Tyne Bridge before turning back. Tomorrow it could be raining and she didn’t relish the idea of stomping along here in the rain. If that were the case she would prefer to take a trip into the town centre and do some shopping.

****

Back at the hotel, Agnes took a shower before deciding what to wear for the evening; she had brought far too many clothes. In the end, she chose a deep blue dress with matching shoes and bag. Being tall and slim, finding clothes had never been a problem for her. Jim always used to tell her she looked good in whatever she chose and he was proud at having her by his side.

She pulled on her dress and checked in the mirror as she smoothed it down. But then she frowned; were a few grey hairs beginning to show? Moving nearer to the mirror, she took a closer look hoping she was mistaken. However it was no mistake. Her auburn hair was starting to change colour – and it wasn’t a colour she favoured. She sighed as she turned away from the mirror. Had they appeared overnight? They weren’t there yesterday. She was going to have to visit the hairdresser when she got back home. 

She was just about to go down to dinner, when she heard raised voices outside her door. She sat down on the bed, deciding to wait a few minutes until the people had moved on before venturing out into the corridor. They might be embarrassed if she suddenly appeared in the middle of what sounded like a row. However, the voices grew louder and though she didn’t mean to pry, she couldn’t help hearing most of what was being said.  

It seemed that the lady had lost a necklace or more to the point, she believed it had been stolen from her room while she was out shopping that afternoon. The gentleman with her didn’t agree. He was trying to calm her down, saying that it couldn’t possibly have been stolen. She must have put it down somewhere and forgotten where.

 “You are always doing that, my dear,” the man told her. He spoke slowly, obviously trying to soothe the woman. “Give it some thought while we have dinner, you’ll soon remember where you put it.”

However the lady wasn’t in the mood to be pacified. “I distinctly remember putting it in the top drawer of the dressing table before we left.” She insisted. “Yet when I went to put it on this evening it was missing. Don’t you realise that the necklace was the one you gave me for our Wedding Anniversary. It must have cost you the earth.”

There was a pause and for one brief moment, Agnes thought they had gone. She was about to open her door when she was suddenly startled by a loud screech from the woman outside.

“Oh my goodness, George; don’t you realise? Someone must have been in our room while we were out.” Her voice became hysterical. “I could have walked in and found some intruder going through our things; I could have been murdered. Call the police right now!” 

 “Calm down, Angela. There is no need to call the police. No one came into our room…” George began.

  But with the thought of an intruder scouring through her personal belongings, Angela was not about to be silenced. “How the hell would you know?” she yelled. “You weren’t even there. You stayed downstairs in the bar with your so-called, business partners.” There was a slight pause. “I want to see the manager – now! Are you coming with me or are you going to sit back and leave everything to me as usual?”

 The voices grew faint as the man and woman hurried off down the corridor.

  Agnes took the room key out of her bag and stared down at it. It wasn’t an old-fashioned conventional key. It looked more like a credit card, which you placed into a slot on the door. When withdrawn, a green light flashed to tell you the door was unlocked. She recalled the first time she had used this type of key. She and Jim had been staying in a hotel in Las Vegas.

He had been amused at her attempts to unlock the door to their room. “It’s simple,” he’d said. “Slide the card into the slot; remove it and open the door.”

Yet when she tried, a red light appeared and the door had refused to open. Only when Jim explained she was being too hasty in removing the card and needed to slow down, was she able to gain access to the room.

Now she was fine with this new-fangled idea and thought it was probably a lot safer than a standard lock. They could be picked by some unscrupulous guest staying at a hotel.

She looked towards the door and screwed up her eyes as she gathered her thoughts together. So, if there was no lock to pick, how could someone have managed to get into the woman’s hotel room without one of these magic key cards? It wasn’t possible. Unless one of the staff, having seen the lady wearing the necklace sometime during the day, had decided that it might be worth stealing.

Some members of staff had access to what was called a master key card, which opened all the doors to the guest rooms. These were only meant to be used by domestic staff when they serviced the rooms. Was it possible they were kept in a place where they could be accessed by other staff?

 Agnes shook her head. For goodness sake, she needed to get a grip. Jim had often said she had read far too many Agatha Christie novels and was always trying to solve a crime when there was no crime to solve.

Perhaps George was right. This Angela, whoever she was, might be the sort of woman who put things down and then forgot about them. He should know. He was probably her husband. If not, then he must know her well enough for them to be sharing a room. Agnes thrust her key back into her bag and hurried down to dinner.

Chapter Two

The smell of food wafting from the kitchen as Agnes entered the Dining Room made her realise how hungry she was. She enjoyed her meal so much it was only now, as she ordered coffee and a liqueur, that she really noticed the other people in the dining room.

Everyone looked smartly turned out. No one was wearing jeans. But then, being fairly new on the scene, the hotel was rather up-market. There were a few of the diners wearing more elaborate outfits. Agnes assumed they were going somewhere else after dinner. She knew there were a number of theatres and concert halls in the city.

Though she wasn’t the only person sitting at a table set for one, she noted that most of the tables had at least two diners. There were even a few tables with six or more people enjoying dinner together. She suddenly felt conspicuous at being alone.

She heaved a sigh. Jim had been gone for almost a year. She should be getting used to it by now. And she was – normally. But there were times when she felt it would be nice to have someone with whom to have dinner now and then or even the occasional drink.

It was while she was sipping her coffee that she became aware of loud voices coming from somewhere in the corridors outside the dining room. Some of the guests sitting nearest to the door leaned back and forth, trying to see out into the reception area. But judging from the shaking of heads, Agnes guessed they couldn’t see who was doing all the talking.

As the voices grew louder, Agnes realised that they were the same people she had heard in the corridor outside her room. Until now, she had completely forgotten about the incident.

“I’m telling you that you have a thief on your staff! I suggest you start searching their belongings before someone leaves the building with my necklace.” There was no mistaking Angela’s high-pitched voice.

“Madam, I can assure you that we will speak to all the members of our staff. But I am certain no one working at this hotel stole your necklace.”

Agnes didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but she guessed he must be the manager. He sounded as though he was trying to stay calm, yet his tone told her he was becoming very exasperated with this particular guest. 

 “Don’t give me all that rubbish. I want the police informed this minute.” By now Angela was in full flow. Nothing was going to stop her from having her say. “I refuse to be fobbed off any longer! The necklace was a surprise gift from my husband. Tell him, George.”

“My dear, it…” George didn’t get any further as his wife continued her rant.

“If you don’t get on the phone right now, I will speak to your Head Office.”

 “Very well, I will call the police,” the manager said. “Can we please go into my office while we sort this out? I have no wish to continue this discussion in the hotel reception.”

  “Yes, a good idea, Mr Jenkins. Thank you. Come along my dear, the manager’s office is just across the hall. It will be more private. We can talk about it there. I’m sure we don’t need to involve the police.” George sounded as though he would like to be a thousand miles away.

  “Very well. We shall go to your office, Mr Jenkins.” Angela retorted. “But, be aware, I have far from finished this conversation. And, George, what are you talking about? Of course the police must be called.”

 There were a few more words spoken and then there was silence in reception.

Agnes glanced around the dining room as everyone resumed their own conversations. It had gone very quiet during the row in the reception area. It seemed she hadn’t been the only one eavesdropping.

 

Book Details

AUTHOR NAME: Eileen Thornton

BOOK TITLE: Murder on Tyneside (Agnes Lockwood Mysteries Book 1)

GENRE: Crime & Mystery

PAGE COUNT: 270

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