Found Guilty at Five

Contents

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY-SIX

THIRTY-SEVEN

THIRTY-EIGHT

THIRTY-NINE

FORTY

FORTY-ONE

FORTY-TWO

FORTY-THREE

FORTY-FOUR

FORTY-FIVE

FORTY-SIX

FORTY-SEVEN

FORTY-EIGHT

FORTY-NINE

FIFTY

FIFTY-ONE

FIFTY-TWO

FIFTY-THREE

FIFTY-FOUR

FIFTY-FIVE

FIFTY-SIX

FIFTY-SEVEN

FIFTY-EIGHT

FIFTY-NINE

Titles by Ann Purser

Lois Meade Mysteries

MURDER ON MONDAY

TERROR ON TUESDAY

WEEPING ON WEDNESDAY

THEFT ON THURSDAY

FEAR ON FRIDAY

SECRETS ON SATURDAY

SORROW ON SUNDAY

WARNING AT ONE

TRAGEDY AT TWO

THREATS AT THREE

FOUL PLAY AT FOUR

FOUND GUILTY AT FIVE

Ivy Beasley Mysteries

THE HANGMAN’S ROW ENQUIRY

THE MEASBY MURDER ENQUIRY

THE WILD WOOD ENQUIRY

F
OUND
G
UILTY AT
F
IVE

ANN PURSER

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2012 by Ann Purser.

Cover art by Griesbach/Martucci.

Cover design by George Long.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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®
PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are registered trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

FIRST EDITION:
December 2012

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Purser, Ann.

Found guilty at five / Ann Purser.—1st ed.

p. cm.

ISBN 978-1-101-61347-4

1. Meade, Lois (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Burglary investigation—Fiction. 3. England—Fiction. I. Title.

PR6066.U758F73 2012

823'.914—dc23

2012026985

For Jane and her mother, my most loyal readers.

O
NE

J
OSIE’S WEDDING DAY DAWNED WITH OMINOUS GREY SKIES
and puddles on the road outside Meade House, the result of a rainstorm in the night. Lois had heard pattering on the bedroom windowpane and comforted herself with the unreliable old saw—“Rain before seven, fine before eleven.”

Now it was time to get up, and she turned over to nudge Derek awake, only to find nobody there. Then she heard footsteps on the stairs, and the bedroom door opened to reveal Derek, bearing a tray loaded with breakfast.

“You sneaky devil! I was going to do that for you.”

Derek grinned. “A warm thank-you wouldn’t come amiss,” he said and, putting down the tray, he leapt athletically into bed beside her, only to land groaning with what he declared was a twisted ankle, certain to ruin his day as father of the bride. Lois did her best to comfort him.

*   *   *

T
HE
M
EADES HAD LIVED IN THE VILLAGE OF
L
ONG
F
ARNDEN FOR
a good few years, having moved from a small semi on a council estate in the nearby town of Tresham to a solid family house previously belonging to a doctor who had been one of Lois’s first clients in her house-cleaning activities. One of the few remaining English villages with shop, school, church, and pub, Farnden’s houses came on the market at high prices. But in Meade House, the dark shadow of the murderous doctor had put off prospective buyers, and Lois, Derek and family had felt no qualms about moving in.

Lois contributed to their bread and butter by running a very successful house-cleaning service, New Brooms, and with husband Derek’s one-man electrician business, they jogged along reasonably happily. Safely in the bank, earning a good rate of interest, was a comforting sum won on the lottery a few years ago.

Over a period of time, Lois had developed a special skill in amateur detecting, and this had been a very useful service for Inspector Hunter Cowgill of Tresham police. Lois’s independent spirit had been maintained by her refusal to take payment for what Derek, who disapproved, grumpily called “ferretin’.” Inspector Cowgill, a handsome widower with a high reputation in the county, kept his decided fondness for Lois more or less successfully to himself.

Lois was proud of her family of two sons and a daughter, and Gran, Lois’s mother, underpinned them all by housekeeping at Meade House. Overworked and underpaid, she reminded them frequently.

And so now, thought Lois, as she and Derek finally downed cold tea and congealed scrambled egg, we will have another family member, young Matthew Vickers. Matthew was Cowgill’s nephew and also a policeman, doing well in the force, and about to wait in the village church for Lois’s only daughter to walk up the aisle to join him.

*   *   *

“I
THOUGHT YOU TWO HAD DECIDED ON AN EARLY START?”
accused Gran, as Lois and Derek brought their empty breakfast dishes into the warm kitchen.

“I twisted my ankle,” said Derek, remembering to limp a little. In fact, it had been a very small twist, and he felt only a slight twinge. But in truth he was feeling nervous about giving his beloved daughter away to a young man in an increasingly dangerous profession. Derek’s bid for general reassurance was shattered by Gran saying that she had never heard such nonsense, and a good run round the village green would soon fix his ankle.

“Plenty of time before you need to dress up in your finery,” she added. “In fact, I think you might have a quick sprint right now.”

Derek sniffed. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Unless you feel like coming, too, Gran. You can carry me crutches.”

Gran ignored this with straight-backed dignity, and began to stack the dishwasher with such force that Lois feared for her best china.

“Speaking of finery,” she said soothingly, “Josie will be here shortly to dress. I’m really glad she decided to set off from here. That crinoline skirt needs a wide staircase to accommodate it.”

“It’s not a real crinoline, Lois, as you know,” Gran said.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mother, cheer up!” Lois was fast losing patience, and decided that Gran was best left alone. She went upstairs to check Josie’s room, where the virginal white bridal dress and silk veil were waiting, surrounded by much-loved dolls and teddy bears of childhood.

Much to her annoyance, Lois felt her eyes prickling with tears. It wasn’t as if Josie would be going miles away. She would continue to run the village shop, and be just as much a daughter as a wife. What was that stupid saying? It’s not losing a daughter, but gaining a son? Rubbish! Josie’s first allegiance will be to her husband, as it should be.

Lois dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. She heard the door open, and Josie’s excited voice in the kitchen. Time to be the mother of the bride, she told herself, and walked slowly down the stairs to the kitchen.