The Poison Pen

By Marjorie Owen

Detective Chief Inspector Richard Hayward had just started his vacation with his pregnant wife when the call came. Another murder had interrupted the town's peaceful existence, and the murderer won't stop at just one victim.
Richard will need all of his expertise if he's going to find the killer lurking among the town's only department store. But when the Chief Inspector gets too close to the truth, his ongoing search places his wife and the life of his unborn child in jeopardy. It's a killer's warning. Back off or pay the consequences.
Never one to back down, Richard must find the murderer before more lives are taken, but most importantly, he will do whatever it takes to protect his family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: vinspirepublishing
• Release date: Dec 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310070211

Marjorie Owen

My career has developed from my early days as a Professional Ballet Dancer and Teacher to working with children and adults with both physical and learning disabilities. In later years of my career, I have worked as a Movement and Educational Therapist in groups, one-on-one, and via the internet. The publication of my deceased mother-in-law's book has led me to develop further my writing experience. I am currently interviewing writers and authors on my blog. http://bookreaders-mumswritings.blogspot.com

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Other titles by Marjorie Owen

Ladies of Class—A Richard Hayward Mystery

The Poison Pen

A Richard Hayward Mystery

Marjorie Owen

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Vinspire Publishing

Ladson, South Carolina

www.vinspirepublishing.com

The Poison Pen

Copyright ©2013 Marjorie Grace Patricia Bridget Owen

Cover illustration copyright © 2013 Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs

Written permission has been obtained by Michael Owen on behalf of the Estate of Marjorie Owen, via her last will and testament, for the publication of this work.

Printed and bound in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, please contact Vinspire Publishing, LLC, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165.

All characters in this work are purely fictional and have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names.  They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

ISBN: 978-0-9851232-1-5

PUBLISHED BY VINSPIRE PUBLISHING, LLC

Chapter One

Detective Chief Inspector Richard Hayward was a very happy man, walking through the garden with an arm around his wife’s waist—well, where her waist was before pregnancy began to hide it. He wouldn’t have changed places with anyone. They’d just returned from a short holiday in Paris, a second honeymoon he’d called it, with a sentimentality which only his darling Kate and his mother occasionally ever saw.

Mrs. Hayward senior, with her little Yorkie, Fuzz, trotting along importantly beside her, pointed out the glory of the roses in their garden. Ella Hayward, who lived fifteen miles away, had kept an eye on the house while they were abroad and was justifiably proud of her horticultural activities on their behalf. They’d only been in possession of the charming cottage a couple of months and wisely left the garden to see what the previous owners had planted.

Only hope I can do as well as they did, Kate said almost every day when some new delight bloomed. She was enchanted with everything, and Richard was enchanted with her. After two years of marriage he could still hardly believe his own incredible luck in winning his darling New Zealander.

We’ll be able to put up a swing on that apple tree, she said. Both a boy and a girl would adore that, and the pram will be nicely shaded where I can keep an eye on it from the kitchen window.

I’m buying the pram, Ella said, and the cot, the high chair, and—

Steady on, Mother! Richard laughed. Leave something for me! You’ve already knitted enough to kit out triplets.

You’ve done your bit, his mother retorted. And about time, too! I want to be around to see my great-grandchildren as well, and you’re the only ones who can make it possible.

Richard’s smile left his face temporarily. What a world to bring children into. And he knew more than most what an evil world it could be.

Kate read his mind, as she always could. Don’t worry, darling. There are still some decent people left, you know, and we’ll do our darndest to see that our children learn what’s right.

Doesn’t always work out that way, Richard answered. But it won’t be for lack of trying on our part. I may not be able to stop a nuclear bomb, but I know when to administer a good wallop if required.

Bully. Kate gave him one of her loving smiles and placed one hand atop her belly. The poor little thing moved quite violently when you said that.

Richard gave her an anxious look. Do you feel all right, my darling? Perhaps we’d better go indoors, and you can put your feet up.

Both women laughed. Thank goodness you’re going back to work soon, Kate said. The minute you’re out of the house, I’m going to do a few cartwheels. His forlorn expression must have changed her mind for she relented and said again, Don’t worry so much, my love. I’ll take great care of our baby, I promise. And Mum will be over every day, if I know anything about it, to see that I do.

Richard resumed his walkabout with Kate in his closely held arm. Wonder what’s been happening while we’ve been away. He was rewarded by the laughs which escaped from Kate and Ella. Looking at them both suspiciously, he got his answer from Ella.

We were wondering how soon you’d start fidgeting about your wretched station, she said. Do you imagine the crime rates doubled just because you’ve not been there?

Not very complimentary to me, Richard, Kate accused him. Did you begrudge the time spent in Paris? She winked at Ella as she spoke.

Richard had a strong feeling he was being set up for something; no doubt he’d find out eventually.

Kate let him lead her indoors and settle her on a settee, and he sat down beside her. She twiddled his thick mop of hair busily. Richard?

Yes? he answered with a smile. What do you want this time? Top brick of the chimney? The moon? I’ll get it for you!

Nothing so trivial, but could you possibly pinch an extra day’s holiday? I would so love it if you were here when Lucy arrives.

For an instant Richard’s mind went blank, but a nudge from his wife had him remembering. Oh! Your young sister’s coming, isn’t she? I hadn’t forgotten, darling, honestly. It’s just that I’ve lost track of the days. That’s what being with you does to me.

Lying hound! she teased. You had forgotten! Well, what about it? All the way from New Zealand and her brother-in-law isn’t here to greet her.

He was saved by the bell—literally. The telephone, thank goodness, but his mother answered it before he could get there.

Oh, hello, Jim, she said and, with a resigned look at Kate, handed it over to Richard.

Detective Sergeant Jim Findon on the other end sounded in a state of high excitement. Is that you, sir? was his idiotic question.

If it isn’t, I’m a very healthy ghost, Richard replied dryly. And, yes, we did have a nice holiday, thanks.

I’m sorry, sir, but we’re in a bit of a flap at the moment."

Okay, Jim, but I’ve still got a few hours of leave. Couldn’t it have waited until the morning?

The thing is, sir, we’ve had a murder!

Well, don’t sound so disgustingly pleased about it. Richard reproved him. For a fleeting moment he recalled a conversation he’d had with a Scotland Yard friend of his a few months previously. They’d just solved a murder case in Burshill—the first for many years in the town—and Richard had said life would seem very tame to his young sergeant.

Geoffrey Breed had commented that wherever Richard was trouble followed. It looked as if the chap was right. Richard himself was a comparative newcomer to the town which was expanding at an incredible rate, but apart from the one murder, the crime rate wasn’t too alarmingly high. It seemed that was changing.

All right, he said. Who and where?

Mr. John Berwick, sir. He’s the manager of Wall’s Department Store.

Crikey! What’s he been doing? Short-changing the customers? Where did it happen? Is the cause of death known?

In his own office in the store, and it looks like poison. Happened around lunchtime.

Richard frowned. Well, if you had to bother me, why didn’t you do it earlier? It’s just gone five-thirty.

Yes, sir, but I didn’t know you were back until a constable said he’d seen you. I thought you were returning this evening. We’ve got everything under control, of course, but, he lowered his voice, Inspector Coleman took charge, and I’m afraid he’s getting up the noses of the people here. I’m phoning from the store, by the way. Inspector Coleman told the staff none of them could leave, and they—well, I’m afraid, sir, they’re just ignoring him. Putting on their things and walking out.

Richard sighed but recognized the unconscious appeal in Jim’s voice. Let them go, he instructed. We don’t want any undignified tussles between irate shop assistants and the police. I’ll be there in about half an hour. He turned and met the accusing gaze of his wife. Sorry, love.

Didn’t say a word.

I shouldn’t be too long. The body was discovered at lunchtime so all the donkey-work will have been done. I’ll just poke my nose in to show I'm willing to help and then leave them to get on with it.

Whose body? the women asked as one.

Chap called Berwick. He’s the manager of Wall’s Department Store. Do either of you know him? I expect you’ve been in the shop at some time or another.

Ella shook her head, but Kate said she didn’t know the manager but had been in the shop. It’s not what I’d call a real department store. Nowhere near as big as the Oxford Street ones, but it’s large enough to be a surprise in a town like Burshill. If it had been built recently I could understand it, but according to their adverts it’s been there about a hundred years. Goodness knows who their customers were in the beginning.

Probably from the farms and big houses outside, Ella contributed. What used to be known as the carriage trade.

Anyway, Kate resumed, I went in there the week before we went to Paris. It’s terribly old-fashioned—the clothing department has mostly twin sets and tweed skirts, that sort of thing. By the look of the sales staff, I imagine they were dug in with the foundations! But quite sweet, really—at least I got some attention and smiles from them, which isn’t always the case these days, you know.

Richard laughed. Well, if it’s that ancient, it’s appropriate the manager should have been poisoned—a sort of arsenic and old lace situation.

Ella reprimanded him at once. Richard! I’ve told you before you shouldn’t be flippant about death. It’s not funny.

Nervous reaction, he assured her. I don’t like deaths, especially violent ones. They bring out the worst in me.

And the best, darling, Kate said loyally. It’s because you hate it so much that you work so hard to get it cleared up. She sighed once then kissed him goodbye. And don’t think you’ve got to rush back here, either. We’re all set for tomorrow anyway. I was only teasing about taking another day off. Your mum’s going to stop here while Jane Clayton drives me to Heathrow to pick up Lucy.

Jane Clayton, with her husband Alex, had become firm friends with the Haywards after Richard cleared up the messy business of Mrs. Clayton senior’s murder. Such an unpromising start had turned into a good relationship between the two families.

Richard wasn’t altogether happy at this airport arrangement. He freely admitted to being prejudiced regarding women’s driving. The fact that both his wife and mother were excellent drivers made no difference.

We’ll see, he said. If I can possibly manage it, I’ll take you myself. This may turn out to be suicide or an open and shut case. I can always hope.

Chapter Two

The journey to Wall’s didn’t take long. The place looked quiet and deserted with the customers and staff gone. It took him a while to find the staff entrance where a uniformed constable was standing guard. A few people were hovering outside, but it didn’t seem as if the news of the murder was too widespread as yet. He parked his car illegally on double yellow lines, locked it, and went to the policeman who saluted smartly.

Right! Where’s the action?

I think you’ll find everybody up in the boardroom, sir, but here’s Sergeant Findon. He’ll show you the way.

Inspector Coleman obviously wasn’t too happy at Richard’s unexpected appearance on the scene and shot a dirty look at Jim who disregarded it. Richard knew Coleman was a good, experienced, and efficient police officer who stuck rigorously to the rules. Do it by the book, lad, was his frequent advice, but he lacked flare and imagination—two of the many qualities which had helped put Richard in his current position when he was so much younger than the chap.

Coleman was also totally insensitive to the feelings of victims and criminals alike, and had, as Jim always put it, a remarkable facility for getting up people’s noses! In one way, Richard considered it a good thing never to feel any emotional involvement—like nurses and doctors, it could get in the way if a job was to be well done—but Coleman carried his attitude to extremes. He trusted nobody, and in particular he distrusted Richard’s sometimes unorthodox ways of getting results.

On their way through the dust-sheeted departments and up the stairs, Findon had made good his faux pas by asking about Richard’s holiday. A few words disposed of that, and then they were in the boardroom. Richard walked around inspecting the place.

The furniture was old but comfortable; an enormous sideboard showed a good stock of bottles and glasses, and on one wall was a portrait of an old man. The brass plaque underneath proclaimed it to be of the founder—Gerald Wall. Tough looking old gentleman, Richard thought before turning his attention to the people present in the room.

Coleman and the attendant policeman he recognized, but also present were another man and a woman he didn't. He smiled pleasantly at all of them then opened the proceedings by asking, What have we got here then?

Inspector Coleman was on the defensive at once. If I’d known you would be coming in, I’d have kept everything and everyone here, but as I didn’t, they’ve all gone, including the body. Photographs, fingerprints—all been done; body taken to the morgue. This lady, the manageress of the restaurant, found Mr. Berwick so I asked her to stay when Findon told me you were on the way, but I’ve taken her statement.

Nevertheless, said Richard in his gentlest voice, I’d be very glad to hear it for myself. He turned to the woman, gave her one of his charming smiles. Tell me your name first, please.

She responded to the smile as most women did and gave a watery smile of her own in return. Maisie Rushlake—Mrs. she told him. I found poor Mr. Berwick when I—

Just a moment, please, Mrs. Rushlake. Richard turned to the other stranger present. And you, sir?

Inspector Coleman took it on himself to answer. This is Charlie Devon. He’s the security officer here and knows as much about the store as anyone. He’s an ex-policeman—used to be at our station, and I remember him well. A good copper, he was.

Charlie Devon laughed. Don’t talk about me as if I was dead! Just because I retired from the force doesn’t make me any less good, you know. He turned to Richard and held out his hand. I’m very pleased to meet you, Chief Inspector. I’d heard a lot about you but never dreamed we’d get together in such circumstances.

Richard shook the hand held out and assessed the man. Around sixty-five, he’d guess, a tall, well-set-up figure, hair nearly white but still thick and keen grey eyes. Yes, he could imagine him being a good copper.

We’ll talk later, he promised. But first I’ll see what Mrs. Rushlake has to offer, and she can get off home. Do sit down, Mrs. Rushlake—I’m sure this has been a dreadful experience. Just tell me what happened, and then we’ll run you to wherever you want to go.

The lady was quite composed now and gave her account clearly. "Mr. Berwick always had lunch in his office at one o’clock on the dot unless he told me

Reviews for The Poison Pen

[19anne44 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Marjorie Owen was a clothing buyer for a big London store so the setting of this book in a department store in a small town is familiar territory for her. Although she wrote several short stories and four books she published none of her writings. Her son, Michael, and his wife are responsible for readying her work for publication.Detective Chief Inspector Richard Hayward has just returned from a holiday with his pregnant wife when he receives a phone call about a body found in Wall's department store. The body is that of John Berwick, the manager of the department store. Finding the culprit is complicated by the fact that John Berwick was very unpopular with the store's staff and his life when not at work was something of a mystery. The police also discover that Berwick was writing a history of the store and its staff which, although backed up by facts, would shed an extremely bad light on the store and its staff. When Richard gets close to the solution another murder happens and his family is threatened. "The Poison Pen" fits well into the cosy mystery category. The description of the organization of a department store in the mid 20th century is a little too detailed but the plot is fairly successful and the book is a fairly good easy read. I read the book in e-book format.

[kpolhuis_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book had all of the best ingredients for a great period mystery. Some romance, the perfect victim, intrigue, tension (not too much!), and just the right amount of action to make this comfortable, cozy and a pleasure to read. Thanks for the opportunity.

[boekenbeestje · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

All the ingredients for a typically British 'old-fashioned' detective novel are here. A very nice and homely little novel, a hugely enjoyable read. It kept me guessing 'till the end, and with some nice and charming characters (Jim Findon in particular)

[jd.strand · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book was enjoyable, though I wish I would have realized that it was a sequel before I started it. It definitely makes me want to read the first one! Overall, it was a kickback book, which took me only a few days of light reading to finish. I was fully enthralled by Detective Chief Inspector Hayward and his adventures, and I almost felt like I was transported into the story and the times.

[hopefirewindlove · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Poison Pen was a pleasant little mystery to read. It was a very smooth read that wasn't full of complicated details to bog down the reader. While I cannot call it one of the best mysteries I have ever read, it was a good read that held my attention. The information provided about the author, Marjorie Owen in the e-book was also quite fascinating in its own right. Overall I would say this bit of mystery was an enjoyable uncomplicated read. I look forward to reading the other Richard Hayward mystery.

[inishowen_cailin · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An enjoyable cozy mystery. The story flowed nicely without being tediously long winded in its attention to detail. I would happily read the rest of the series. However, I found the intermittent American spelling and grammar at odds with the setting of the story - a very English department store in the mid 20th century.

[ameise1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a fantastic cosy mystery set in a little town near London. The manager from a department store was found murdered with arsenic. DCI Richard Hayward and his team have to solve the puzzle. It isn't an easy task because the dead man has been hated by everybody and therefore everyone was quite happy about his death and aren't very forthcoming in helping the police. DCI Hayward has his own method of solving a mystery which isn't always acceptable with his surrounding.Next to the professional business he has also some familiar matters to struggle with. His young wife is due to deliver their first child and his DS is hopelessly fallen in love with his sister-in-law.

[leigh1138 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

When I first saw this book on LIbrarything Early Reviews I knew I had to get it. I was impressed with the way the novel sucked me right in from the first sentence to the very last word. I only regret that there is only one other book by this author for the series, she truly was an amazing author and this was by far one of my favorite books. I plan on recommending this book to everyone I know, even if this type of novel isn't your typical go to book it is a must read for everyone

[barbaraoliverio · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This follow-up to Marjorie Owen’s debut novel “Ladies of Class” takes us back to the fictional village of Burshill and lets us continue the tales of Dectective Chief Inspector Richard Hayward, fresh from his recent case. DCI Hayward literally steps back from vacation with his attractive wife Kate into investigating a curious death at the local department store. Was the death of manager Mr. Berwick a suicide or murder? Who would have wanted to kill such a non-descript man? As DCI Hayward peels back the layers of the case, taking only brief moments out to check on his pregnant wife, and to keep tabs on the burgeoning romance between her sister and his own assistant Jim Findon, he discovers that Mr. Berwick may not have been as mild-mannered as originally thought and that the shop itself holds many secrets.

I reveled in this throwback to an era where a mystery needed to be solved using wit over Wikipedia and good old sensibility over social media. Sit back with a cup of brewed tea and enjoy.

[fernemysteryreader · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I enjoyed this book from ‘cover-to-cover’! Detective Chief Inspector Richard Hayward is introduced in the 1st sentence of the novel and as I continued to learn about his character he reminded me of the character of newspaperman Jim Qwilleran as created by Lilian Jackson Braun. Although Jim Qwilleran is a bachelor and Richard Hayward is married, the personal qualities of each character are equally charming and endearing. In this case, the setting is Wall’s Department Store, one of the few remaining independent department stores in the country (U.K.). Or as Richard says, “Straightforward enough…That’s the overture, I suppose. Let’s have the rest of it.” The author then draws you into the mystery to question each new character as a possible suspect and the reader wants to find out “whodunit” and “whydunit”. Absolute intrigue and fun for a mystery lover! Absolute fun! I later learned that “The Poison Pen” was not the 1st introduction of this character by the author but a second mystery of the “Richard Hayward Series” and originally introduced in the novel “The Ladies of Class”. As a former librarian and cataloger of books, following a ‘read’ of a novel, I enjoy looking and reading other parts of the book (i.e. copyright page, dedication, about the author, back cover, etc.). I was very sad to read on the copyright page of this novel – “Written permission has been obtained by Michael Owen on behalf of the Estate of Marjorie Owen, via her last will and testament, for the publication of this work.” With this information, it became clear that more titles in the series would be of limited availability and I had to investigate more about this author. I am so grateful as a reader to Michael Owen for pursuing the course to bring his Mother’s writing to publication to share with the world. If you normally don’t take the time to read the “About the Author” pages, please take the time to read about Marjorie Owen. It truly sounds as though she was a phenomenal woman that I would have loved to have met in person and listened to her life story and/or the advice that she might have shared.I was lucky enough to receive a pre-publication copy of this title as an “Early Reviewer” from Library Thing.