Scandal at Six (Lois Meade Mystery) (11 page)

Twenty

T
ed
B
rierley had doubted
D
ot’s guess that
B
etsy was with
P
ettison, and as he heard a car coming up the road, he stood back from the window.
N
o warm welcome from hubby for you, madam, he thought.

Meanwhile, now unashamedly standing staring out of her window, Dot saw the car and nipped out of her front door. The car’s headlights dazzled her, and she stepped back onto the pavement. For one moment, she thought it was coming straight at her, but then realised it was slowing to a halt beside her. The lights were switched off, and a woman got out. It was the errant wife, Betsy Brierley, teetering towards her on ridiculously high heels.

“Is that you, Dot Nimmo?” she asked, peering at Dot through the gloom.

“Indeed it is,” she said tartly.

“What you doin’ out here, then? You need some help?”

“No, it was your husband that needed help. He’s exhausted with worry about you.”

“And you’ve been trying to console him, is that it? If so, you’re wasting your time, Dottie.”

“Don’t talk rubbish, woman,” said Dot angrily. “And don’t judge other people by your own standards!”

“Oh, piss off,” said Betsy, unlocking her door and disappearing inside.

“A good spanking for Betsy?” muttered Dot, and she laughed. “She’ll get her comeuppance one of these days, and I’ll be the first to laugh,” she said to her elderly parrot as she went indoors.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” answered the parrot.

Meanwhile, Betsy confirmed to Ted that she had been with Pettison, omitted to mention that she had delivered the snake to the zookeeper, could not be bothered to tell him about the small servant’s room at Cameroon Hall and said she was very tired and was going straight to bed.

Stretched out, Betsy thought about the evening’s events. Pettison had been very strange, but then he was always strange, one way or another. He’d laughed when she appeared at the top of the stairs, having let herself out of the cold little room. “Just wanted to let you know the situation,” he had said. “And to give you a taste of what might come to be, should you decide to make unilateral decisions or, to put it another way, feel tempted to spill the beans.”

She asked which particular beans he wanted kept secret, and then he had turned nasty, ordering her, more or less, not to joke about a very serious situation. He had said she knew very well which particular confidential matters he referred to, concerning the trade with the small animals, and added that if it came to his notice that she had made one more stupid move, as with the snake and the keeper, the gun would be a real one, and the maid’s room would be replaced by another, much more unpleasant.

Then he had forced her to drink a couple of glasses of wine, demanded her cooperation upstairs in comfort, and finally changed into his suave, charming self and seen her to her car, still parked by the zoo.

It was a long time before she went to sleep. She wondered if Ted would eventually get fed up with Pettison, and break off all business relations with him, and that would include her. She saw that this was extremely unlikely, and found herself snivelling into her pillow and wishing Robert Pettison was dead.

*

N
ext morning, the sun shone brightly into the kitchen at Meade House, where Lois and Derek, with Gran officiating, were finishing their breakfast.

“I’m going to ring Cowgill,” Lois said. “It’s time they did something about those zoo animals. Poor old Dot sounded quite worried last night. You know she turns most things into a joke, but one of these days, another person is going to be bitten, and end up in hospital. If it’s fatal, like it most probably could have been with that Richardson woman, perhaps that’ll get them going. Anyway, Derek, are you home for lunch? If Cowgill says the zoo is open again, I might make an appointment to see Pettison about Dot cleaning at the hall.”

“You must be mad,” said Derek. “After all the rumpus that’s gone on there?” He sighed. “I suppose it’s no good ordering you to use your common sense, is it?”

“I am using it,” she said, “and I’m not mad. I shall make doubly sure that Dot will be okay, and anyway, I’m not putting pressure on her. She’s the enthusiastic one.”

Gran had said nothing, but her lips were clamped together in disapproval. Now she banged the frying pan down on the draining board, and said she didn’t know what her late husband would have said. “Your dad was the only one you took notice of, Lois Weedon. He must be turning in his grave.”

“Sorry, Mum,” Lois said. She knew that when Gran used her maiden name, she was really serious. “I’ll make sure Cowgill knows when Dot starts there,
if
she does. And then Dot can make the decision whether or not to stay. I know I am responsible for her, but I do respect her and her ability to look after herself. If she decides to give it a go, I shall be right behind her.”

“I hope not!” said Derek. “One of you up there at Cameroon Hall is more than enough. You stay right here, Lois, else I’ll tie you to the table leg.”

For once, Lois couldn’t think of any reply, and went off to her office to phone Cowgill.

“Good morning, Lois! Lovely to hear from you.” He had been sitting glumly at his desk, staring out at the sheets of rain falling on the streets of Tresham. A golf fixture this morning had been cancelled, and he was disappointed, having looked forward to lowering his handicap. Lois’s voice had been exactly what was needed to lift his spirits.

“Morning, Cowgill,” she said briskly. “What news to report?”

“Um, about what, my dear?”

“The zoo business. I’ll fill you in on the latest from this end. Shall I come in and tell you personally, or will you pay my telephone bill?”

“Both! But you know you will never accept any payment from us here. And, yes, it would be best if you came in. About half past ten this morning? I do have one or two more items to report to you.”

Almost immediately after she had ended the call, Lois’s phone rang, and she picked it up again.

“Mrs M? It’s Dot here. Just thought you’d like to know that the scarlet woman returned home late last night. Very stroppy, and more or less told me to mind my own business. Old Ted didn’t even meet her at the door, so I expect she got a rocket. Anyway, I’m off now to my Waltonby job. Bye.”

*

A
t half past ten precisely,
L
ois walked into the tresham police station, and said she had an appointment with Inspector Cowgill.

The young policeman jumped to attention, and with a knowing smile accompanied her to the lift.

Cowgill was waiting as she came out, and walked with her to his office. “I’m really glad you came in this morning, Lois,” he said. “There’s been an important development, and I need your help.”

“So what’s happened?” Lois said, as she sat down opposite him at his desk. “Found a scorpion in your coffee cup?”

“Not funny, I’m afraid. One of the zookeepers has been bitten by a king cobra, and died on the way to hospital.”

“Died? A king cobra!
Now
will you take some action?”

“Yes, of course. You have to believe me when I say we have been busy on this case all along, but not always apparent to the general public.”

“I’m not the general public! And a ruddy great snake turned up in my daughter’s stockroom. And now this! Surely you could tell
me
exactly what’s going on?”

Cowgill nodded. “You are quite right, and I don’t forget the considerable help you have given us in the past. But this is dangerous territory, and I am not prepared to risk any damage being done to my Lois.”

Lois calmed down, and said that they should get on with the matter at hand. “Though what with Derek and Gran, and now you, I’m beginning to think I should give it all up, and take up knitting,” she said.

“You won’t,” said Cowgill. “Now, let’s begin.”

He told her that his men had been called in early this morning, when Pettison had gone down to the zoo and found the keeper. He had been on duty last evening, and was barely alive on the concrete floor outside the cobra’s quarters. He had a severe bite on his arm, and although resuscitation was tried, he had died within an hour. Before the poison had taken hold, he had managed to get out of the snake’s quarters, and locked the door behind him.

“He was a brave man,” Cowgill said, “and was often willing to do night duty when no one else would. He loved the snakes, so Pettison says, and was planning a breeding programme for this particular species, which is under threat from depletion of its natural habitat. I quote. King cobras are deadly, said to be able to kill an elephant, and will eat a female cobra if he doesn’t fancy her.”

“Now you’re making it up to frighten me!” Lois said. “So is the zoo going to stay closed?”

“Until we have arranged for the cobra to be made safe, then we’ll go ahead with Pettison and let him open it up again. He’s being very cooperative, I must say, and is losing quite a lot of business while it’s shut. These two accidents are the only ones I can remember since he first opened the zoo. Could be bad luck.”

“Just as a matter of interest, Cowgill, when you say ‘made safe,’ do you mean killing it?”

“Not sure yet,” he said. “It might mean doubling up security. Anyway, keep in touch on that one. Now, what do you have to tell me?”

Lois gave him an account, short and to the point, of Dot’s encounter with Betsy Brierley and her husband. “And then there was their snake, and not a cobra,” she said.

Cowgill groaned. “Not another slithering snake?” he asked.

“Yep,” she answered. “And this one was returned to the zoo late last evening.”

“Tell me the rest,” said Cowgill. “And then you and I are going along to Cameroon Hall.”

Twenty-one

I
t was finally agreed that
L
ois should arrive to see
P
ettison on her own, so that she could talk to him about
D
ot coming to work for him, and then
C
owgill would arrive about an hour later to do his questioning and observe what was going on at the zoo.

Lois approached the gate, and was surprised to see it was open.

“Morning!” said Margie Turner, smiling from the entry kiosk. “Just the one ticket, is it?”

“No, I’m not going to the zoo. I have an appointment with Mr Pettison. Lois Meade. He is expecting me.”

“Oh yes, go on through, and straight up to the hall. You’re the lady from New Brooms, aren’t you? My friend, Dot Nimmo, works for you.”

“That’s right,” said Lois. “I’m considering sending her to work at the hall for Mr Pettison.” She paused, hoping for some useful snippet from Margie.

To her surprise, Margie laughed. “Don’t worry, Mrs Meade,” she said. “I’ll keep an eye on her. And, anyway, our Dot is well able to deal with the likes of Robert Pettison!”

“Do you think she will need to do so?”

“You can never tell with the boss. Lots of rumours fly around, but he’s never been anything but a gentleman with me.”

“What rumours?”

“Oh, you know. Some say he’s gay, and others that he’s had every attractive woman in Tresham. Lowlifes, not the upper classes! But as far as I’m concerned, he’s a good employer and never put a foot wrong. Off you go then, dear; there’s a couple waiting to go in.”

Lois walked slowly up the drive to the house, thinking about what Margie had said about Pettison. Lots of rumours, she had said. She thought of his grim mausoleum, and his obsession with rare animals. Obsession? Maybe it was more than that. Collectors became obsessive to the point of breaking the law. A painting, say an old master hanging on the wall of a private mansion. Worth a fortune. Expert burglars employed to steal it, and in some cases, it is never seen again. Some collector somewhere is gloating over his latest acquisition.

She arrived at the front portico, and once more Pettison was standing outside, waiting to greet her.

“Good morning! I hope you are bringing me good news? Come along in, Mrs Meade.”

“Thank you,” said Lois politely. “As for bringing you good news, I hope we may be able to help you in the house.”

They settled in his office, and Lois started the conversation by saying how sorry she was to hear the terrible story of the keeper found dead in the reptile house. “Coming on top of the accident with poor Mrs Richardson?” she said.

“She is fortunately recovering well. But no, the keeper was a brave fellow, Mrs Meade. I am afraid he was foolhardy, too. Countless times I have had to warn him about being overfriendly with a king cobra. No other keeper is willing to go near it, but he would enter the cage and let it get really close to him, sometimes stroking its neck. He was always very calm and quiet with it, and I believe it trusted him.”

“So why did it suddenly turn nasty?” Lois was beginning to feel decidedly queasy. She had had just about enough of snakes.

“We don’t know. Something must have frightened it, or him, or he could have forgotten to remain vigilant. A man is no match for a snake of that sort, once it is on the attack.”

“But you’d have thought he’d be extra vigilant, after the chimp attack on Mrs Richardson. Anyway, have they been put down, put to sleep, or whatever it is we say? They are clearly a danger to every person who goes into the zoo.”

“Not at all. We have very strong security for our visitors. I am afraid it was human error on the part of my keeper. I myself deal with the snakes from time to time, and I am very careful indeed. There is no possibility of visitors being harmed.”

“Right, well, we’d better talk about cleaning. I have decided we can take you on as a client of New Brooms, and a very responsible and reliable member of my team, Dot Nimmo, has agreed to do the work.”

“Nimmo? Not old Handy Nimmo’s wife?”

“She is the widow of Handel Nimmo, yes.”

“Well, I’m blowed! Old Handy! One of the best, he was. I’ll be very glad to have her working here. We can talk about old times.”

“Not too much talking, I hope,” said Lois severely. “I expect my girls to work steadily for the time they are allotted, with a break for coffee or tea, but not gossip of any kind, Mr Pettison.” A forlorn hope, she said to herself. But that’s why I’m sending in Dot, to keep her eyes and ears open.

They then discussed hours and rates of pay, and Pettison confirmed everything as being wonderful, and then Lois said she would be going, as she had other potential clients to see.

“Do you ever do the cleaning work yourself, Mrs Meade? Sometimes I need an emergency blitz on the house at times other than when Dot will be here.”

“I can assure you that Mrs Nimmo will never leave a house in a state needing a blitz, Mr Pettison. But if you require extra help, I am sure we can cooperate. Good morning.”

Evil old sod, she said to herself as she went off to collect her car and return home. I must remember to wear trousers next time I have to go there. As for Dot, thank goodness she would have drastic remedies for disabling him if he tries any tricks on her!

At the gate, she met Cowgill about to go in.

“How did it go?” he said.

“Fine. I must say he sounded very reasonable.”

“Just make sure that if Dot is off sick, you choose carefully who you send instead.”

She looked at him, and said lightly that she herself always filled in at such times.

“Lois! Don’t—”

“Excuse me,” said a belligerent father of four small boys, “but is there any chance I can get into this place? Perhaps you two could make up your minds whether you are going in or out. Thank you.” He hustled his boys through, and Lois set off for her car. Cowgill walked towards the hall, looking thoughtful.

Before going home, Lois decided to call on Dot to see if she was back from her morning job. She would break the news to her, and watch her reaction.

*

“
S
o when do
I
start,
M
rs
M
?” Dot had opened the door and spoken before Lois had a chance to begin.

“Tomorrow, if you’re sure, Dot. Mr Pettison seemed very pleased to hear it would be you going to clean for him.”

“You can leave me to it with a quiet mind, Mrs M. He was an old friend, or should I say colleague, of Handy. Public school, a degree from Oxford, so he says, though some doubted that. He was one of them charmers who could turn nasty in a second if something didn’t please him. Don’t worry, I shall be fine. Handy taught me a thing or two about self-defence.” She laughed, and asked Lois if she would like a ham sandwich. “Fresh from the deli, Mrs M?”

“Thanks, but no, I must get home. Gran will have lunch ready, and Derek’s there, too. They’ll be waiting with the latest in a campaign to get me to give up taking on Robert Pettison. One thing, Dot,” she added firmly. “You are not to go anywhere near the zoo. No call for that. I have made it clear to Pettison that you are not to be sent down with messages, or anything that takes you near those animals. Understand?”

Dot nodded. “You can rely on me, Mrs M. I’ll make a really good go of it.”