Scandal at Six (Lois Meade Mystery) (16 page)

Thirty

N
ext morning,
L
ois arrived at
S
tone
H
ouse to find the police had already been and taken a statement, and would be in touch with the old lady.

“It was one man, last night after dark, theatrically disguised,” she said to Lois now. “He made me stand by the door, while he filled his swag bag with the small silver pieces I keep on the table in the drawing room. Then, when I blocked his way out, he laughed and said he had no wish to harm me, but would I kindly step aside! I mean, Lois, I ask you. I thought the days of the gentleman burglar were dead and gone. Then he said I must learn to keep my nose out of other people’s business and stick to gardening! Wasn’t that stupid? It was all too ridiculously dramatic, my dear! But I know it is best to forget about saving the silver, and just get rid of a burglar as soon as possible. Oh, and he almost forgot to take the silver with him! I had to remind him he’d left it behind. I felt rather sorry for him.”

“Mrs T-J! You’re not serious?”

“Well, actually, my dear, I am. I suspected at once that he was no professional burglar, but had just been sent to deliver a warning to keep my nose out of the zoo business. I thought I would let him get away with it to see what happened. His voice was familiar, but he did have his face more or less covered, so I’m not sure where I’ve seen him.”

“And the police?”

“Your son-in-law was wonderful, Lois. He was calm and reassuring. Made a list straightaway of the pieces I could remember, and said he hoped and trusted they would all be restored to me. I hadn’t the heart to tell him that it was most unlikely I’d ever see them again, and in any case it wasn’t very good stuff. Now, we must forget all about this, and return to business. I intend to go into Tresham this afternoon and have a chat with Mrs Brierley. I made an appointment yesterday, to make sure she was there. She will remember me kindly, I hope, and will cough up some interesting info.”

“Well, all right, but please be careful, won’t you. The likes of Betsy Brierley are not good-hearted girls down on their uppers. They have learned to be ruthless.”

“You are teaching your grandmother, Lois, my dear! Dealing with the raffish underworld of Tresham for more years than I care to remember has taught me a thing or two. I shall be perfectly safe, and I’ll be in touch.”

Lois returned home and stood gazing out of her office window. The snow had turned to slush, and children were out in their wellies, kicking the muddy water at each other and yelling abuse. She saw Josie’s new tenant come out and walk away up the road. They’d not talked about him yesterday, but everything seemed to be going well. Josie would have mentioned it, if not.

She was about to leave her office, when the telephone rang announcing Cowgill.

“Lois? Have you heard about Mrs Tollervey-Jones’s burglary? Yes, I was sure she would have told you. Well, as you know, Matthew was there straightaway, and I hope sorted it all out. Now, the last thing you told me was that you were bringing the old lady into your investigations at the zoo, and particularly Robert Pettison. Has she acted on your instructions in any way?”

“Not yet. She’d hardly have had any time for that. But yesterday she did say she was going to see Mrs Brierley, whose family she had known through her husband’s buccaneering activities.”

“Oh my God! Can you stop her, do you think?”

“Not a chance. So you think Betsy was straight on the phone to Pettison?”

“Well, don’t forget Mrs Tollervey-Jones was not exactly a hanging judge, but definitely an unforgiving justice of the peace. She’d be well known to the criminal fraternity of Tresham. I think that burglary may have been more a means of frightening her into silence than a straight steal of a few bits of silver.”

“She’s got some good stuff, Cowgill. Worth quite a bit, I’m sure.”

“Mm, well, I have it here in front of me, and I beg to disagree. Most of it is silver plate, and quite modern. I have no doubt she has good stuff tucked away somewhere, but this is not it.”

“In front of you!? Do you mean you’ve got it back already? That must be a record.”

“Don’t underestimate the long arm of the law, Lois. No, actually, we found it dumped in a rubbish bin outside Waltonby village hall. Can I call and see you later this morning? I have to see Mrs Tollervey-Jones, and then I’ll nip up and have a chat.”

“I suppose so. I don’t know what Derek has planned for today, but unless you hear from me, it’ll be all right.”

“And please keep a sharp eye around when you’re out. I think you may have stumbled on something very lucrative and very nasty. So take care; there’s a love.”

*

D
erek, when asked, said he was sure that whatever he had planned for this morning would have to take second place to the visit of Detective Inspector Cowgill.

“So what had you planned? A family trip to London? A ride on the old steam train in Fletching?” asked Lois.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lois. Of course none of those things. I am going up to the allotment and shall be home in time for lunch. Gran is going into Tresham this afternoon, and I shall be watching football.”

“I see,” said Lois. “So having Cowgill here for ten minutes or so won’t interfere too much with your day?”

Gran looked round from the Rayburn, where she was stirring a saucepan of soup into slow-moving whorls. “Do shut up, you two!” she said. “If you want to argue, go and do it somewhere else. This kitchen is my territory, and I expect a bit of peace.”

“Sorry, Mum,” said Lois. “I’m just nipping down to see Josie. Anything we want from the shop?”

“Onions,” said Gran.

“And the same to you,” said Derek, and all three fell about at the old joke.

*

T
he shop was busy when
L
ois arrived, and she hovered round the back of shelves, waiting her turn.

“I saw him myself, coming out of Stone House!” said a woman standing at the counter. “Carrying an old rexine bag, and looking shifty.”

“What were you doing, Myrtle, out in the street so late at night?”

“Walking the dog, like I always do, last thing. He didn’t see me, I’m sure. Jumped into a car and drove off like a roaring banshee.”

Lois walked casually round and approached the woman named Myrtle. “Must have been a bit of a shock, seeing someone suspicious so late at night.”

The woman shook her head. “Not really, Mrs Meade,” she said. “You’d be surprised what I see when I’m out with the dog. Goings-on of all sorts!”

At that moment, Justin Brookes came into the shop. He was wearing his jeans and jersey, and his hair was attractively tousled. He nodded to the customers, picked up a newspaper and began to read, waiting to be served.

“Look,” said Myrtle, “it’s here on the front page of the local. ‘Local JP gets burgled in Long Farnden. Burglar gets off without a chase.’”

“They’ll get him,” said her friend. “They always do, in the end. Silly fool must have left loads of prints on that silver. I heard they recovered it already. My friend in Fletching is caretaker at the village hall, and she found a bagful of stuff. Took it straight to the police. All sorts of silver things. She didn’t touch none of it, of course, so the police shouldn’t have too much trouble identifying the prints.”

“Excuse me butting in,” said Justin. “Do you happen to know if Mrs Tollervey-Jones is okay? I’d hate to think of the old lady being hurt.”

“Oh no, nothing like that. Just one of those collect-and-run merchants. He’ll not get far.”

“I hope not,” said Justin. “We can do without such menaces in our community.”

Inside, he was chuckling. It had all been so easy. Pettison had been warned by Betsy Brierley that Mrs Tollervey-Jones was on the warpath, and he wanted her stopped. A quick change into a disguise. Balaclava on the head, scarf wound round half the face, and thick black gloves. It had all been done and dusted in the hour, and he was back in Tresham reporting to Pettison. After that he had returned to his flat over the shop with nobody any the wiser. Mission accomplished! A small dose of the frighteners on Mrs Tollervey-Jones, and back into Pettison’s good books.

Thirty-
o
ne

M
rs
T
ollervey-
J
ones looked at herself in the mirror on her dressing table.
H
er short grey hair waved naturally, curling pleasantly around her face.
H
er clear blue eyes had an honest, straightforward expression, and her lips, unadorned by lipstick, lifted at the ends in a half smile.

“Much too pleasant looking for a justice of the peace,” she muttered to herself. She had recently retired from the justices’ bench, and was restless. Having moved from the hall and its farms and parkland into a substantial stone house in the village, she had simply not enough to do with her time. “Except,” she said to her reflection, “when Lois Meade requires help from me, her unofficial assistant.”

This thought cheered her up, and she looked in the wardrobe for a warm coat, ready to tackle the suspicious Betsy Brierley. Why suspicious? she asked herself. No reason, really. She just had a feeling about the woman. Something guarded in her voice on the phone.

She left the house, locking up more carefully than usual, and drove off towards Tresham, where she threaded her way through the back streets to where Dot Nimmo lived on one side of the road, and Betsy Brierley on the other. As she reached the top of the street, she was passed by a van and for a moment was startled by a large snarling tiger staring at her from the van’s side. Aha! Mr Pettison has been a-visiting, she thought. I must be careful how I tread.

Betsy answered the door, and stared at Mrs T-J. “I don’t know you, do I?” she said. “You said your husband had something to do with our family, but I’ve asked around, and none of ’em remember anything about you.”

“Could I come in for a few minutes? I won’t keep you long, but I’d like to explain. Thank you, dear.”

Huh, thought Betsy, no good soft-soaping me, duckie. It’ll have to be a pretty good explanation, after what Pettison has just told me.

Mrs T-J perched on the edge of a chair, nodded a good morning to Mr Brierley, who stood nervously by the fireplace, and began to talk about her husband. She was tactful when mentioning his little weakness, but said he had had several love children around town when he was young.

“One or two of them were, I believe, brought up by your family, Betsy. In fact, one of the boys, a very bright lad, did very well. Ended up as quite a notable chairman of companies, that sort of thing. I’m researching the family history, and wondered if you remember anything about that, or, since you are much younger than my generation, whether you heard this clever son being spoken of?”

Ted Brierley shook his head, but Betsy said that as a matter of fact, she had been to see an old aunt recently, and she had identified a photograph on her wall.

“A very handsome chap, he was, apparently,” Betsy said now. “And, as you say, very big in the city. Lord Mayor of London, even, later on, after a distinguished career. Pity Ted didn’t get any such genes from
his
family.”

“Thanks for nothing, Betsy!” he protested. “If that’s the way the wind’s blowing, then I’m off out to the club. I’ll watch the racing from there. I’ll be back for lunch, so don’t stay too long, Mrs Whatever your name is.”

“Sorry about him,” said Betsy, after he had slammed the front door behind him. “He’s always a bit of a misery.”

“I am so sorry to have caused unpleasantness,” apologised Mrs T-J. Privately, she thought she had never encountered a more unforthcoming couple. However, a job was a job, and Lois would be expecting a report from her.

“Are you working now?” she asked, and Betsy’s face hardened.

“And what’s it to you if I am?” she said.

“Oh nothing. I was just being polite. Do you know, I thought a tiger was on the loose on my way here? It turned out to be painted on the side of a van. Advertising Tresham Zoo. Do you like zoos, Betsy?”

Betsy said that zoos were all very well in their place, and she could take them or leave them.

“I’m fond of London Zoo, in Regent’s Park,” Mrs T-J said. “I know my way around there, and can avoid the reptile house! I’m afraid reptiles give me the shivers. As for snakes, I cannot bear even the thought of them. It’s something about the way they move. No legs; no wheels! They just slither in the most alarming way. And so swift! I can understand how the poisonous ones can be so deadly.”

Betsy said she felt much the same. “I work at the Tresham Zoo, on and off,” she said. “Mr Pettison asks me to take over the gate when Margie is off sick.”

“Ah, Mr Pettison, yes. Now, I have heard tales told about him. An eccentric gentleman, I believe?”

“Eccentric? He’s much the same as any man. You can take it from me, he’s no different from most men. They’re usually interested mainly in one thing. Sorry to be very vulgar, Mrs Jones, but it’s what’s between his legs that he’s most concerned with! It’s a complaint that I can treat, and he comes to me regular. Nursey, he calls me.”

“So he is otherwise a simple, good-living person, do you think?” Mrs Tollervey-Jones was not in the least shocked. She had heard much worse in her time.

This unsettled Betsy, who had hoped to frighten the old tab away, in case of further rich revelations. On the contrary, Mrs T-J settled back in her chair, and enquired if Betsey saw much of him outside the zoo.

“Comes here for his treatment,” said Betsy, now with a superior smile. She was beginning to respect this old dear. “Tells me all his worries, an’ that. Running a place like that zoo is full of problems. Only recently, there’s been two accidents, one of them fatal, associated with it. A cleaning woman injured, and then one of the keepers killed. He’s got a lot of rare animals there, you know. Priceless, some of them. Not many left in the world. He gets them from all over and breeds them for posterity.”

“I hope he knows how to look after them! Some of the creatures bred in captivity are not so badly off, having known nothing else. But most animals brought in from the wild are lucky to last a year. Sad, isn’t it? Myself, I think a good dog and maybe a cat to keep the mice down are all one needs.”

“I dunno,” said Betsy. “I do fancy having one or two of ’em. He’s got some of them spectacled whatsits—like baby crocodiles—caimans, that’s it. You can hold them in the palm of your hand, and they’re real little darlings. I wouldn’t mind one of them.”

“But not if they’re going to die on you?”

“Oh, Petti can always get me another,” she said loftily. “Now, Mrs Jones, I’m going to turn you out. I’ve got a client coming in a few minutes, and he’ll not want to see I’ve got company! Bye-bye, dear. Been nice talking to you. Bye!”

*

M
rs
T
ollervey-
J
ones drove away with a smile on her face. She had been much amused by Betsy Brierley, and admired her confidence and lack of embarrassment.

“You could call it a service, I suppose,” she said aloud to herself in the driving mirror. What was it Pettison called her? Oh yes, Nursey! Wonderful. She decided to drive straight back to Farnden to report to Lois on her morning’s work.

When she drew up outside Meade House, she saw the unmistakable Inspector Cowgill getting into his car. He must have seen her approaching, as he stepped out again and came over to where she had halted.

“Good day, Mrs Tollervey-Jones,” he said. “I was hoping to have a word with you, but there was no one at home at Stone House. Are you free, by any chance?”

“So sorry, Inspector. I had an urgent request to visit someone in Tresham. But I could go back home and see you there for a short while. I have promised to have a talk with Mrs Meade, but half an hour would be fine.”

Women! thought the inspector. I’m surrounded by scheming women. My beloved Lois twists me round her little finger, and now this old duck is quacking about allowing me half an hour of her precious time. And I’m a famous detective! He laughed, shrugged and drove down to park outside Stone House and wait for Mrs Tollervey-Jones to join him.

*

“
S
o what did he want,
L
ois? And your illustrious assistant?” Derek said. He had emerged from the sitting room, where the football match on television had just finished.

“Did they win?” asked Lois.

“Yes, four to one. Walked it. Now, answer my question, please.”

“Well, since you ask so nicely, Cowgill wanted to tell me about the dangers of dicing with the likes of Pettison. He also wanted to know all about Josie’s new tenant in the flat. Seemed very interested to know if he had been seen with Pettison, or if he mentioned his name. I was cagey, and said I wasn’t sure. But if he’s suspicious of Justin Brookes, there is every reason for us to be, too. I’m all for sending him packing, straightaway. He’s a bit overnice, if you ask me.”

“I think that’d be a bit hasty,” Derek said. “It may be nothing but gossip. Cowgill has to listen to everything, but we have no reason to suspect Brookes of anything, do we? Josie seems to have quite taken to him. Makes her feel safer when the shop’s empty, she says. No, I think we should hold hard for a bit. See what happens. And Mrs T-J?”

“She wanted to fill me in with how her talk with Betsy Brierley had gone. She picked up some useful stuff about Pettison. About his trade in rare animals, an’ that.”

“And is it time for tea? I’m ready for a cup, and Gran’s come home with cream cakes for all,” said Derek, contenting himself that Lois had at least shared with him some of what she had been discussing.