The Appleton Case (A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Novella Book 1) (7 page)

They set the
box to one side and opened the next one.
 
It seemed to be full of old papers.
 
Janet flipped through the pile.
 
“Gas bills, electricity bills, car registrations, receipts for big-ticket
items, notes from former guests, and the like,” she told her sister.
 
“I don’t see anything especially
interesting here, do you?”

Joan glanced
at the top couple of sheets and shook her head.
 
“It all looks to be at least a couple of
years old, as well as uninteresting.
 
We should go through the lot though, at some point, just in case there’s
something important in the pile.”

“Maybe not
today,” Janet suggested.
 
She shut
the box quickly, hoping her sister might forget about the boring task of
sorting someone else’s old paperwork into some sort of order.

Janet was
disappointed to find that the third box was more of the same.
 
“Surely she could have at least sorted
this into categories,” Janet grumbled as she riffled through old bank
statements and grocery store receipts.
 

“Like we do?”
Joan asked with a laugh.

Janet shook
her head.
 
She knew that somewhere
in the handful of boxes the sisters had brought with them was one box that was full
of nothing but unsorted paperwork.
 
Both she and Joan always intended to go through it and file everything
neatly into separate folders, but neither sister ever seemed to find the time
to get the job done.
 
Instead, box
after box got filled with papers.
 
When they’d moved, they’d sent several boxes of older papers away to be
burned.

“Maybe we
should just turn them all over to Gavin,” Joan suggested.
 
“He can have the fun of looking through
them all.”

“He’d just
burn the lot,” Janet said.

“And that
would be bad because?”

“You never
know,” Janet said.
 
“There could be
information about past guests or even about our ghosts.”

As soon as the
words left her mouth, Janet wished she could take them back.
 
Joan’s reaction was pretty much what she
expected.

“Our ghosts?”
Joan asked.
 
“Surely you don’t
believe such nonsense?”
 
Joan gave
her a piercing look.
 
“Who’s been
telling you about ghosts?”

“Stuart just
said a few things,” Janet answered.
 
“I gather, from what he said, that Margaret Appleton believed in the
ghosts.
 
I just thought there might
be something in here that gives us more information.”

“To entertain
the tourists with, you mean,” Joan suggested.

“Exactly,”
Janet agreed eagerly.
 
One look at
her sister’s face told her that she hadn’t fooled Joan.
 
Janet didn’t really believe in ghosts,
but she was more willing to consider the possibility of them than Joan.
 
She’d heard the screams, after all.
 
If there
was
anything
in the paperwork they’d found that could tell her more about that, then going
through them would be well worth it.

Janet carried
the box of metal bits down the stairs and put it on the kitchen table.
 
Joan followed with the two boxes of
papers.
 
Then the pair inspected the
boxes that Joan had found.
 
All
three contained papers, and Janet swallowed a sigh as they opened the last box.

“More papers,”
she said.
 
“Going through all of
this is going to be a job.”

“I suppose
something in one of the boxes could be what Gavin is after,” Joan said.
 
“Maybe there are valuable stock
certificates hiding in between the credit card statements and the telephone
bills.”

“Maybe,” Janet
said doubtfully.
 
“What about the
box of metal parts?
 
Do you think
that’s what Gavin wants?”

Joan
shrugged.
 
“I don’t know, I suppose
it could be.”

“Maybe we
should take that box to the police,” Janet suggested.
 
“I can’t imagine we have any use for
it.
 
Perhaps Constable Parsons will
know what all the bits are.”

“Let’s take it
now,” Joan replied.
 
“Then, when we
get back, I’ll make dinner.”

Chapter
Seven

The
Doveby
Dale branch of the Derbyshire Constabulary was
housed in a tiny building that had once been a miner’s cottage.
 
A sign on the front gave the hours that
the building was staffed.

“That seems
foolish,” Janet remarked as they walked from their car to cottage door.
 
“Surely they’re as good as telling the
criminals when there won’t be any police about.”

The cottage
had originally been one large room, but now it was partitioned off into a tiny
reception area with two offices behind it.
 
Janet felt claustrophobic as soon as she stepped inside the front
door.
 
She imagined that she would
confess to just about anything if she’d been forced to spend any time in one of
the tiny and enclosed offices.

“Can I help
you ladies?”
 
A middle-aged woman
was sitting at the reception desk.
 
She’d been knitting when the sisters arrived, but she put her needles
down and looked at them expectantly.
 
Her hair was platinum blonde and her eyes were a lovely shade of green.
 

“We’d like to
see Constable Parsons, please,” Joan told her, setting the box on the desk.

“Oh, I’m
terribly sorry, but he isn’t here right now.
 
Did you have an appointment?” the woman
asked.

“No, I didn’t
realise
we needed one,” Joan replied.

The woman
chuckled.
 
“Oh, you really don’t, at
least not normally.
 
But we’ve had a
call about a missing child, you see, so Robert,
er
,
Constable Parsons is out investigating.”

“A child
missing from
Doveby
Dale?” Janet asked.

“Indeed,” the
woman replied solemnly.
 
“I don’t
know if you heard about the little girl who went missing in
Clowne
a short time ago, but there are similarities between the cases.”

“And that
little girl hasn’t been found yet, has she?”
 
Janet held her breath as she waited for
the reply, hoping she was incorrect.

“No, she
hasn’t,” the woman answered.
 
“Her
mother is quite frantic.”

“I can’t even
imagine,”
Janet
told her, shaking her head.
 

“If you
absolutely have to see Constable Parsons, I can ring him and see when he thinks
he might be back,” she suggested.

“Oh, no.
 
If he’s looking for a missing child, that’s
far more important than what we wanted,” Joan said firmly.
 
“We’ll just leave this with you and you
can tell him all about it.”

“What is it?”
the woman asked, a worried look on her face.

“We’ve just
purchased
Doveby
House,” Joan told her, adding their names
to the introduction.

“Oh, it’s very
nice to meet you,” the woman replied.
 
“I’m Susan Garner.
 
I do hope
you’re going to get the bed and breakfast up and running again quickly.
 
Margaret Appleton used to sell my crafts
for me to her guests.”
 
She gestured
towards the knitting that she’d put down on the counter.
 
“I wasn’t getting rich, but it was a
nice little bit of extra income for me.”
 

Janet and Joan
exchanged glances.
 
“I didn’t
realise
that the previous owner did that,” Janet said.
 
“It may be a while before we get the
place open for business again.”

Susan
nodded.
 
“Well, when you do, I’d
love it if you’d display and sell some of my blankets and jumpers again.”

“Of course we
will,” Janet assured her.
 

“Margaret kept
ten per cent of the sales, which seemed more than fair to me,” Susan continued.

“I’m sure we
can work something out once we get back in business,” Joan said, clearly
putting an end to the topic.
 
“When
we were going through the house we found this box of car parts,” she told
Susan.
 
“We wondered if this is what
Gavin Appleton is after.
 
He seems
quite determined to get inside the house.”

Susan opened
the box and looked inside.
 
“Are you
sure they’re car parts?” she asked, poking a finger randomly into the box.

“No, not at
all,” Janet replied.
 
“But we
thought they might be and that Constable Parsons might know why Gavin wants
them.”

Susan
shrugged.
 
“I’ll have him take a
look when he gets back,” she said.
 
“I know there was a case in Derby a few years ago where a garage owner
was making cheap car parts himself and fitting them, while charging his
customers for proper parts from the manufacturers.
 
It was only when the parts started
falling to bits and causing accidents that someone figured it out and rang the
police.
 
Maybe Gavin is doing
something similar in his garage.
 
Robert can certainly check it out.”

The sisters
went back to their car and headed for home.

“She was very
nice,” Janet commented once they were underway, with Joan at the wheel again.

“Yes, and her
knitting was lovely,” Joan replied.

“I didn’t get
a close look.”

“I did.
 
She’s very talented.
 
I can see why Margaret was willing to
sell her things at
Doveby
House.”

“But we aren’t
necessarily going to be taking on paying guests,” Janet said.

“Once we’ve
figured out exactly what we are going to do, we’ll have to talk to Susan again
and then go from there.”

“Do you think
that Gavin’s making his own car parts?” Janet asked.

Joan
shrugged.
 
“I don’t know.
 
There were a lot of nuts and bolts and
screws and things in the box.
 
Maybe
he’s making those sorts of little things.”

“I can’t
imagine there’s much money in nuts and bolts,” Janet mused.

“But neither
of us knows anything about cars,” Joan pointed out.
 
“I don’t even go over the bill when we
take the car to the garage for oil changes and the like.
 
Maybe we’re paying a lot for little bits
and just don’t
realise
it.”

“So maybe we
should visit Gavin again,” Janet suggested.
 
“We could have a look around the garage
and see if there are any suspicious looking parts.”

Joan
laughed.
 
“That is one of the worst
ideas I’ve ever heard from you, little sister,” she said.
 
“We wouldn’t know a badly made part from
a brand-new one from the manufacturer.
 
What would we even look for?”

“I don’t
know,” Janet admitted.
 
“But we
could have a look around.”

“How exactly?”
Joan asked.
 
“If Gavin is there, he
isn’t exactly going to take us on a tour, and if he isn’t there one of his
intimidating apprentices will be, or the place will be shut.”

Janet didn’t
answer, but her mind was racing.
 
There had to be a way to snoop around the garage.
 
She just had to figure out what it was.

Back at
Doveby
House, Janet paced around in small circles in the
library, thinking about Gavin, while Joan made dinner.
 
After they’d eaten and Janet had washed
up, the sisters settled in to watch a bit of
telly
and relax.
 
Before the
programme
they planned to watch had even started, though,
they heard someone knocking at their door.

“Who could
that be?” Joan asked as she got up from the couch.

“Maybe
Constable Parsons came over to talk about the box we left for him,” Janet
suggested.

Both sisters
were surprised to find Michael Donaldson on their porch.

“Mr.
Donaldson, do come in,” Joan said.
 

“I hope I’ve
not come at an inconvenient time,” the man said as he stepped inside.
 
“I’ve been meaning to come over for a
chat for days but I’ve been rather busy.”

“You’re always
welcome,” Janet assured him.
 

“Oh, thank you
kindly,” the man beamed at her.

“Would you
like some tea and biscuits?” Joan asked.
 
“I baked shortbread and oatmeal raisin biscuits today.”

“I don’t want
to cause you any bother,” Michael replied.

“Oh, please,”
Janet
said with a laugh.
 
“We bought a bed and breakfast so my
sister can bake for more people than just me.
 
Come and have tea and biscuits.
 
We’ll never eat everything she made
today and she’ll be baking more tomorrow.”

In the
kitchen, Janet filled the kettle while Joan piled biscuits onto a plate.
 
Within minutes the trio was seated around
the table enjoying their snack.

“These are
very good,” Michael said after he’d had one of each biscuit.
 

“Please, take
more,”
Janet
suggested.
 
“And then you can tell us all about
yourself.”

“That seems a
fair trade,” Michael replied, his eyes twinkling.
 
He ate his way through a couple more
biscuits, washing them down with tea, before speaking again.

“I haven’t had
a very exciting life,” he told them in an apologetic voice.
 
“I was born and raised in
Doveby
Dale and aside from university, I’ve never really
left.”

“It’s a lovely
place,” Janet said.

“It is,”
Michael agreed.
 
“My wife was from
the village as well.
 
We met in
primary school and started dating when I was sixteen.
 
I never really dated anyone else.
 
We got married as soon as I graduated
from university.
 
Unfortunately, we
were never blessed with children, and my wife passed away a few years back.”

“What did you
study at university?” Janet asked.

“I trained as
a chemist,” he replied.
 
“I had my
own little shop in the village for nearly forty years, but I retired last year
and shut the shop.”

“We’re both
retired as well,” Janet told him.
 
“We were both primary schoolteachers.”

“And now
you’re going to start a bed and breakfast,” Michael said.
 
“Are you fulfilling a lifelong dream?”

“Yes, rather,”
Joan answered, earning a surprised look from Janet.

“Well, if
there’s anything I can do to help, just ask,” he said.
 
“I’m usually home and often bored.
 
Being retired is rather dull.
 
This last week I was filling in at one
of the chemists in Derby.
 
I do that
from time to time.”

“That’s very
good of you,” Joan said.
 

“I was
thinking that I should find a part-time job,” he told them.
 
“Just a few hours here and there, but
something to get me out of the house.
 
I don’t suppose you’ll need someone to help with serving breakfast and
the like?”

Janet and Joan
exchanged glances.
 
“I don’t think
so,” Janet said after an awkward pause.
 
“I mean
,
we haven’t actually given the business
side of things any real thought.”

“I’ve given it
quite a bit of thought,” Joan said sharply.
 
“But we have some way to go before we’re
ready to start taking on guests.
 
We
will certainly keep you in mind if we find that we’re needing additional staff,
as we go on.”

Michael
smiled.
 
“Good, well, I suppose I
should be getting home.
 
It’s
getting rather late.”

The sisters
walked him to the door, where he paused.

“I don’t
suppose, that is, well, I was wondering, that is, Joan, would you like to have
dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked.

Joan
flushed.
 
“I don’t know, that is, um,
we’re just getting settled in and….”

Janet held up
a hand.
 
“She’d love to,” she told
Michael.
 
“You can pick her up at
seven.”

“Smashing,”
Michael replied.
 
He thanked them
for the tea and biscuits and disappeared down the steps towards his home.
 

Janet shut the
door behind him and turned to her sister.
 
“Well, he’s very nice, isn’t he?”

“He asked me
to have dinner with him,” Joan said in a weak voice.

“I’m sure
you’ll have a lovely time,” Janet said brightly.

“I’m not,”
Joan answered.
 
She grabbed Janet’s
hands.
 
“I’ve never been on a date,”
she reminded her.
 
“I don’t know how
it works.”

“It’s just
like having dinner with a friend,” Janet told her.
 
“You eat, you talk, you laugh,
that’s
all.”

“But he isn’t
a friend,” Joan snapped back.
 

“Not yet, but
I think he will be,” Janet told her.
 
She looked at her sister’s face and sighed.
 
Joan looked halfway between terrified
and furious.
 
“Let’s have some more
tea,” she muttered.