Murder at the Maples: A Flora Lively Mystery (18 page)

***

‘What do you mean you followed him? Wasn’t that really risky?’

‘I guess. But I’m glad I did. I found out who he is, and what his connection with the Captain was.’

‘Wow, Flora. That’s awesome! I totally under-estimated you. You’re much more capable than I ever gave you credit for.’

Flora smiled to herself. Otto had stopped to investigate a lamppost; Flora allowed her mind to wander again.

‘I’ve been wrong about lots of things, haven’t I?’ Marshall is wearing one of his fraying fraternity sweaters and pale blue jeans. His face is contrite.

The problem with imaginary conversations, thought Flora as she tugged at Otto’s lead, was that they always left you feeling unsatisfied. Even if such a conversation did take place, it would be bound to degenerate into a snippy row. Anyway, she should be focusing on the real reason for this Saturday morning meeting, which certainly wasn’t to discuss Flora’s discovery about Joy’s mystery man in black. Yet another Saturday without any removals booked in had triggered crisis talks. Uncle Max was getting the train into Shrewsbury and meeting her and Marshall at ten o’clock. Flora pulled her mobile phone out of her bag and noted the time: quarter to. She was going to be early, which meant she could get Otto settled in the makeshift crate she’d set up, thus avoiding another lecture from Marshall about bringing pets into work. Max wouldn’t mind, of course. In fact, he’d be amazed. Flora’s mum and dad had often joked that she couldn’t take care of herself properly, let alone a pet. They’d never bought her so much as a goldfish. She bent and picked Otto up as they approached the railway arches, giving the panting pooch a cuddle.

‘Look at me, Mum,’ she whispered. ‘Looks like I’m finally growing up.’

Flora rounded the corner, but what she saw outside Shakers stopped her in her tracks. Marshall was standing by a bright red sports car, hands in pockets, looking typically rumpled and dishevelled. Flora’s eyes widened when she saw who Marshall was talking to. Leaning proprietarily on the car’s bonnet was the handsome stranger Flora had seen in this very car park only four days ago. As if to contrast even more dramatically with Marshall, today he sported a dark grey suit over a cool cotton shirt, open at the neck to reveal just the tiniest glimpse of dark hair. His green eyes were trained on Marshall intently, while his posture remained relaxed.

Flora swallowed and began to step slowly backwards, seeking the shelter of the nearest doorway.

What was he doing here? She ran her free hand through her hair and looked down at her dog-hair-covered T-shirt in alarm. Had he come to see her again? Not likely. Flora laughed at herself. ‘What am I like?’ she said to Otto, who responded with a quick woof. Flora put her finger to her lips. ‘Shh, I don’t want them to see us.’

Of course he wasn’t here in search of her. His appearance was so polished, so immaculately groomed, he looked completely out of place outside Shakers’ yard. She peeped out to see what they were doing. Just talking. Uncle Max could arrive at any minute – she couldn’t let him catch her hiding in the doorway of the kebab shop. She’d just have to brazen it out and face the guy, even if she did look a fright.

Just as she was about to launch herself out into the yard, Marshall stuck out his hand and the stranger, after the briefest pause, gave it one firm shake. Then he jumped into his car and drove away, mercifully not catching sight of Flora who hid her face behind splayed fingers. She waited until his car had disappeared under the bridge, then stepped out of her hiding place. Marshall was still standing in the car park looking pensive. When he saw Flora approaching he gave himself a barely perceptible shake and plastered on a grin.

‘You’re early. Dog wet the bed again?’

‘Funny. Is Uncle Max here yet?’

‘Nope.’

Flora started towards Shakers’ entrance, with Marshall trailing behind.

‘Who was that guy?’ she asked, gratified to find she sounded only mildly interested.

‘No one.’

‘No one? I saw you shaking his hand.’

Marshall shrugged and walked past her, pulling up the shutters with a deafening clatter. About to press him further, Flora was cut off by a familiar voice at her shoulder.

‘Not bickering again, I hope? You two lovelies should learn to play nicely.’

She threw her arms round her uncle, accidentally letting go of Otto’s lead as she did so.

‘Now what on earth,’ said Max when Flora had retrieved the pooch, ‘is that dog doing here?’

‘Long story. You don’t mind, do you? I’m kind of looking after him for a while. For a friend. But he’s no trouble.’

‘Mind? Of course I don’t mind.’ Max beamed, his teeth white against his weathered skin. ‘I think it’s a wonderful idea for you to have a pet. Hey, if you decide you want one of your own, I’ve got some collie pups going.’

‘Well, this is real lovely, but if it’s all the same to you guys I’d like to get on with our meeting.’ Marshall stood by the open door, practically glaring at them. Flora raised her eyebrows to Max, who grinned.

‘Come on then, boy. Let’s get this show on the road.’

***

‘The thing with business is, it’s all about knowing when to change and when to stick with what you have.’

Flora couldn’t stop the huff that escaped from her mouth.

‘You don’t agree, Flora?’ Max’s eyes were creased at the edges, and in the creases Flora could see lines of grime. She couldn’t help but marvel at the change in him – he had thrown himself into the good life one hundred per cent. This was his first visit in months to the town where he’d lived for nearly seventy years, and he’d not bothered dressing up for it, that was for sure.

She smoothed her hands across her knees, regretting her own choice of smart linen skirt in lieu of her usual jeans. She’d wanted to create the right impression, but apparently neither Marshall nor Max had had the same idea.

‘I do agree, but Marshall’s only saying that because he thinks it’s time to change. He’s got this idea – has he told you his idea? Of course he has. It’s not right, Max. Dad wouldn’t have wanted it. Not without a fight, anyway.’

‘I’ve never proposed anything that would be disrespectful to your father, Flora, and I resent the implication that I would.’

‘See what I have to put up with?’ Flora turned despairing eyes to her uncle. ‘Now he’s gone all pompous on me, all hard-done-by, but I’m telling you, he’s been pushing this commercial storage idea for months.’

‘Well, let’s hear him out, why don’t we?’ Max was sitting in Flora’s chair, his grubby hands laced across a bulging stomach. Flora and Marshall had arranged their seats opposite, and the resemblance to naughty school children reporting to their head teacher was already starting to grate on Flora’s nerves.

‘Fine,’ she grumbled. ‘Go on then.’

‘And Flora, I don’t know anything about this idea of Marshall’s, although I do know he’s had some thoughts about the business. That’s what we’re here for, right? To discuss them.’

‘Hm.’ She couldn’t trust herself to say any more.

Marshall leaned back in his chair so far Flora thought he might fall off. Hoped he would, more like. ‘Flora’s right, Max. I was keen on branching out into commercial storage. But now I’m not convinced it’s the way to go.’

Flora’s head shot around so fast she cricked her neck. ‘What? That’s news to me!’

He shrugged. Infuriated, Flora jumped up and turned her back on the two men. She grabbed a packet of coffee and switched on the machine. ‘So what’s caused this change of heart?’ she said through gritted teeth.

Marshall took his time answering, and Flora wondered what silent communication was going on behind her back.

‘I’m just not sure it’s the right area for us to move into now. Six months ago, maybe. But the opportunities are closing up fast.’

‘Oh, right. I get it.’ Flora swung around to face him. ‘I see exactly where you’re going with this. You had an idea that could have saved Shakers, but I blocked you all the way. Now that idea is redundant, and it’s all my fault for not going with it. So Shakers is stuffed and you can sit back and say “I told you so” but take no responsibility. Brilliant, Marshall. You must be really proud of yourself.’

‘Flora, what are you saying?’ Max was on his feet now, hauling his huge frame up to lean over the cluttered desk. ‘You can’t honestly believe Marshall has anything other than the best interests of this business in mind, whatever ideas he comes up with?’

‘No. Yes. Oh, I don’t bloody know.’ She was trying to rip the top off the packet of coffee but it was sealed too tight and the little tag had already come away in her hand. ‘Damn this bloody thing!’ She threw the packet onto the worktop and picked up another.

Marshall leaned even further back in his chair and held out his hands, palms up.
See what I have to put up with
, was the clear message. Flora could see through him completely. He’d engineered this whole situation to make her look bad. Give him a week and he’d be harking on about the storage scheme again, or something else equally far away from Peter Lively’s vision.

‘Max,’ she said, struggling to keep her voice level, ‘Shakers is not doing great. You’ve seen the accounts, bookings are down and we’ve hardly had to use Steve at all this month. Stuart’s already moved on, and we can barely afford to keep the new driver. What do
you
think we should do?’

She turned back to the coffee machine and yanked at the fresh packet. The top came off in one smooth movement. Hallelujah!

‘I know your dad’s original idea was to focus on domestic removals, the personal service that Shakers has always done so well.’

Flora couldn’t resist a jubilant smile in Marshall’s direction.

‘But, like Marshall said, in business you have to know when to change and when to stick with what you know. What’s happening with Rockfords? Any news on their new branch in Shrewsbury?’

Marshall rocked forward and planted his feet on the floor. ‘They’ve pulled out of the lease for the offices in Battlefield. Don’t know what that means for us, exactly.’ His tone was casual, but the atmosphere in the office changed immediately.

‘What?’ Flora nearly dropped the jug of water on the floor. ‘When did you hear this?’

‘Just now.’

Max sat down heavily, his brow creasing. He waited for Marshall to carry on, but Flora was too impatient to wait.

‘What do you mean, just now? Like, you got a text or something?’

‘No.’

‘Well, what then?’ She came to stand beside her uncle and laid a hand on his shoulder. For some reason she needed the support.

Marshall took a deep breath. ‘I found out just before this meeting. I was … chatting with the younger son of the Rockford clan.’

‘He phoned you? Out of the blue? What for?’

Looking up into Flora’s eyes, Marshall said, ‘No. He dropped by. I talked to him in person.’

‘You … In person?’

No. It couldn’t be.

‘The man you were talking to outside was David Rockford?’ Flora’s cheeks began to burn. ‘Are you sure?’

Marshall threw her an odd look. ‘Of course I’m sure.’

‘What was he doing here, son?’

‘I think he was sizing us up, to be honest,’ Marshall told Max. ‘We got chatting outside. He’s okay. Kind of friendly.’

‘Well, he would come across as friendly, wouldn’t he?’ Flora cut in. ‘Sizing us up, trying to take away our customers, dropping round here all the time, undercutting us at every opportunity.’

Acting so kind and concerned that day when she’d been spooked by the guy in the hoodie. Gazing at her with those deep green eyes.

Furious at herself for being so easily taken in, Flora turned her anger on an easier target. ‘I can’t believe you would consort with the enemy like that, Marshall. He’s probably much cleverer than you realise, I bet he was pumping you for information. Did he mention me?’ she added, then could have bitten off her tongue when she saw Marshall’s amused expression.

‘No, he didn’t mention you. Why would he?’

‘No reason.’

‘And I wasn’t consorting with anyone.’

‘Of course you weren’t,’ Max said, reaching over the desk to give Marshall’s hand a reassuring pat. ‘And Flora, I think you’ll find our Marshall is more than a match for that Rockford boy, eh?’

Marshall grinned and nodded. Dropping to her knees to check on a sleeping Otto, Flora made a gagging motion under the cover of the desk. What a love-in. No wonder she hadn’t managed to convince Max he should give Marshall his marching orders. The question was, if she decided to do it herself would Max back her up?

Not likely.

When she stood again Marshall was eyeing her with interest. ‘Have you and David Rockford met before?’ he said, smirking.

‘What? Of course not. I had no idea who he was.’

‘Well, that’s not what I asked. But you said earlier he was round here “all the time”. Are you sure you haven’t bumped into him yourself at some point?’

Flora glared at him. An image of Marshall’s face pressed against the office window sprang into her mind. He knew perfectly well they’d met before. The swine.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. And stop trying to deflect attention away from yourself, you’re the one who’s been–’

‘Consorting. With the enemy, right. But maybe you were thinking about a different kind of consorting?’

‘Children, please.’ Max was smiling, but his expression was strained. ‘This isn’t getting us anywhere. Now, if Marshall says Rockfords might not be taking up those premises it’s a cause for celebration. My vote is that we dig in a while longer and see how things go. What do you think? We can meet up again in, say, three months and see where we’re at. Okay?’

Flora nodded mutely; Marshall reached over the desk and shook Max’s hand.

Like he shook David Rockford’s hand.

Just what had they been discussing? Flora wanted to know so badly it was like an ache in her gut, but there was no way Marshall was about to share it with her. And she had no intention of exposing herself to any more teasing, either.

The coffee machine started to announce itself ready for action. ‘I’ll have one of those,’ her uncle said. ‘Marshall?’

‘Gotta go, I’m afraid. Great seeing you, Max. Catch up soon, yeah?’