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Billsdon nodded when he appeared in the doorway. “I am not going out there to check.”
“So, I am to be the next victim, eh?” Now that he was faced with the truth, the Captain looked decidedly worried. His gaze flew to the still closed kitchen door. He didn’t speak or even look at Moss as he wandered over to the cake.
“Don’t touch it,” Moss whispered. He hunkered down so he couldn’t be seen from outside. The others remained in the hallway, also hidden from the sight of anyone loitering outside. “Use a knife or something. That cake is undoubtedly poisonous.”
“Is it like the one you received?” Clementine whispered.
Moss nodded and eyed the brown packaging with a shudder of distaste. He didn’t think he would ever forget those horrid days when he almost lost his life. If he tried, which he didn’t because he couldn’t bring himself to, Moss was certain he could still taste the vile stuff.
“It’s from Clementine,” the Captain read. He lifted is brows at Clementine. “It says: ‘A little present from me. I hope you enjoy it. Clementine’.”
The Captain carefully used a knife to prise open the packaging until a freshly baked fruit cake was revealed. Moss crawled forward and leaned over the table so he could sniff the offending item.
“It’s poisoned all right,” he whispered. “Cut a piece and make a point of putting it onto a plate. Make sure that what you are doing is visible through the window. Then go into the front room. Whatever happens, don’t touch it.”
The Captain dutifully did as he was told, but not before he bolted the back door. Once in the hallway, he shoved the cake at Moss and, now that he had lost his appetite, settled for brandy instead.
“I don’t mind admitting that I would have been scared right now if I had been alone,” the Captain muttered having downed a couple of stiff brandies.
“You can understand how the killer manages to claim his victims so easily, can’t you? I mean, the Captain, rather pleased at his present, could have cut himself a piece and happily eaten it not thinking that there might be something wrong with it,” Billsdon mused.
“That stuff takes effect almost instantly and is fierce.” Moss explained what he had endured after just one mouthful.
“It’s damned heinous,” Cameron snorted.
“I have yet to find out what kind of poison it is, but my friend thinks it is natural. Something that can be baked but loses none of its toxicity, like mushrooms or flowers or something,” Moss added.
“Those poor victims never stood a chance,” Clementine said sadly. “I am disgusted that the killer thinks they can use my name like this.”
“Well, they have taken on far more than they can chew now,” Billsdon replied confidently. “No pun intended.”
Moss rolled his eyes but didn’t take the magistrate up on the poor timing of his quip.
“Ready?” the Captain asked quietly. He looked a little shaken but squared his shoulders and prepared to put on the show of his life.
Moss nodded but his face remained grim. “Remember what we agreed.”
The Captain shoved a piece of soap into his mouth and chewed, grimacing fiercely when the taste of it took hold. Seconds later, a long stream of foam began to dribble out of the corner of his mouth. He nodded at Moss, who stepped back, unlocked the door, and nudged it open. With a groan, the Captain stumbled out into his garden whereupon he proceeded to follow orders.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Clementine, Moss, Cameron, and Mr Billsdon, all watched what the Captain did through the curtains in the sitting room at the back of the house.
The Captain stumbled down the steps clutching his stomach as if in severe pain. He spat the foamy contents of his mouth into the hedge and proceeded to retch as if in his last moments. Even when his mouth was empty, he proceeded to dramatically retch until he fell to his knees. Seconds later, he topped forward and fell face-first down onto the grass whereupon he then lay motionless.
“That’s it. All we have to do now is wait,” Moss whispered.
“Is the back door still open?”
“Yes, and the cake is on the floor where the Captain dropped it. None of us can move now,” Moss whispered. “We don’t have long until it goes dark outside, so stay perfectly still and quiet.”
Clementine shivered and sidled closer to Moss. Thankfully, despite the gloom within the room, Moss understood her fears and slid a comforting arm around her. He then pressed a reassuring kiss to her temple.
“It won’t be long,” he soothed quietly.
“I know. I wish you would tell me who it is.”
“I think it is best if you see that for yourself,” Moss replied gently.
