Scandal at Six (Lois Meade Mystery) (17 page)

Thirty-
t
wo

J
osie was up early in the shop sorting the
S
unday papers.
T
wo handy schoolboys delivered them, one on his bicycle to outlying farms, and the other walking through the village at a leisurely pace.
A
s she saw them off on their separate ways, she was startled to hear a car engine close behind.
I
t was the
F
iat, and as it came out from behind the shop, the window was wound down, and
J
ustin
B
rookes leaned over to speak to her.

“Morning, Josie,” he said. “I’m off to church. I don’t suppose you’ll accompany me?”

Church was the last place she would have expected him to go, and she shook her head politely, as he had expected. “Sorry, no can do. I have to shut up shop and do some urgent admin this morning. Unfortunately, it won’t wait for me!”

He nodded and smiled, wondering what he would have done if she had said yes. He closed the window and drove off with the Ferrari-sounding roar. She watched it go, and laughed. They were jolly little cars. There were quite a few of them now, and often one would pull up outside the shop. Lovely colours, too, and a silvery one appealed to her. Perhaps, when she’d done the books, there would be enough on the right side of the accounts to enable her to buy one. And pigs might fly, she said to herself.

“Church?” said Matthew, when she arrived home for a late breakfast. “That man-about-town going to church?”

“He may be praying for his sick father. The old boy is expected to die anytime now. You can never tell with people, anyway, Matthew. Even you darken the doors of the church at Christmastime!”

*

J
ustin pulled up outside the lych-gate and waited.
S
everal cars parked behind him, and the occupants disappeared up the path. Then the one he was waiting for drew up in front of him on a small hillock where the footpath curved round the corner. Its engine was switched off, and then the door opened. A tall girl with a face like a Pre-Raphaelite painting came towards him, swinging a large white carrier bag, a chic dress-designer’s name emblazoned on the side.

“Hi, Justin. How’s business?”

“It’s not likely to improve, sweetie, if you swing the poor things to and fro like that! Enough to make them seasick! You’d better get in, and let me make sure they’re still alive. This is a new supplier, and Pettison is very anxious that I should check.”

The girl, an old friend of Justin’s and recruited by him into the chain of handlers designed to mislead any curious investigators, now explained that she was about to be married, and would not be operating for Pettison anymore. “But I’m sworn to secrecy about the whole thing, and I shall keep my word,” she said.

Justin frowned. He quite fancied her, and would be sorry not to see her anymore. At the same time, he envied her. How good it would be not to be any longer under Pettison’s control. He looked into the carrier and saw a metal box, like a miniature cage, with airholes and a glass front. Inside, two tiny shrew-like creatures stared at him. They were something out of a Disney film, and belonged somewhere in a forest under dark branches and leaves, where they knew their predators and how to avoid them.

“They’re toys!” he said loudly, firmly putting such thoughts to one side. “We’ve been had!”

Then one of them flicked its tail and crept into the dark corner, quickly followed by the second one.

“Satisfied?” said the girl, as Justin jumped back into his seat. “They’re dear little things. You can take them out if you like. They’re quite tame. I had fun with them last night. Mind you, I think they are delicate, so take care of them. When are you handing them over to Pettison?”

“Tomorrow. I’m living in a flat now, over Farnden village shop, and there’s a place I can keep them hidden.”

“Right-o. Now, are we going to church? I quite fancy Holy Communion. Makes me feel good again.”

“Not me,” said Justin. “I am beyond redemption. Thanks anyway. See you soon.”

She left him, and headed up the church path, and he started the engine and drove off.

Outside the shop, Justin saw a police car, and his heart thumped. What the hell?! Only one thing to do, and he accelerated, driving past as fast as he could. Three minutes later, he realised the police car was closing up behind him, its lights flashing. He drew into the side of the road, and opened the window. A police officer came up and looked in.

“Morning, sir,” he said. “Just thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Matthew Vickers, husband of Josie in the shop. I understand you’ve taken on the flat? Nice little place. Used to visit Josie when she lived there. Hope you’ll enjoy living in Farnden. Oh yes, and watch your speed through the village. You were going at forty-two miles an hour past the shop! Just a warning, sir. Good morning.”

Thank God I flung my jacket over the carrier, Justin thought. Well, that had been a turn-up. But he had been very alarmed, and realised that one careless move could bring the whole of Pettison’s house of cards tumbling to the ground. In other words, the zoo would be closed and Uncle Robert arrested and very likely put in prison.

So what to do with the creatures now? He knew Pettison was away for the weekend in a country hotel nearby, for a couple of nights of mad passion with his fancy woman. “A treat for me, dear boy,” he had said to Justin. “Work hard; play hard. Not a bad motto for the likes of us!”

So, no good going into Tresham. He would just drive back to Farnden, take the key to the shed from its hiding place, and conceal the carrier in there until tomorrow. He had cleared it out and put an electric convector heater in, and hung a dark cloth over the small window.

The wind was icy when he walked from his car to the shed, and he hurried in. Switching on the heater, he took the box from the bag, and looked around. There were shelves along the back wall, and he put it carefully on the topmost. Then he tore the bag in half, punched a few holes in it with a screwdriver, and upended it over the cage, where the creatures had now reappeared and were following his every move with their button-bright eyes.

“There you are, then, little ones,” he said. The girl had given him some stuff for them to eat, and he decided to come back when they had settled down. Perhaps at lunchtime, when nobody was around.

Back inside his flat, he made himself a coffee and looked for a newspaper. Yesterday’s had gone out with the rubbish, and he had nothing to read. Perhaps Josie was still in the shop, and would have a spare.

He walked round into the shop, and found the door still open.

“Hi, Josie?” he shouted. “Okay for me to come in?”

In a couple of seconds she stood there, smiling. “You didn’t go to church did you?” she said accusingly. “Mrs Tollervey-Jones called on her way back, and said you were not there. I’m afraid you can’t get away with anything in this village,” she added.

Justin looked suitably humble. “Afraid I couldn’t face it,” he said. “All that stuff about descending into hell and rising again, not to mention the sick and the dead. Couldn’t get through it, really.”

“Of course not,” Josie said consolingly. “I quite understand. Have you had any news about your father?”

“No, he’s still hanging on. No change. It’s very hard for Mother, and I hope to be able to get up to see her again soon. I wish they were nearer, but that’s how it goes these days. Years ago, families all stuck together in the same place, especially in the farming community. I’ve let them down, poor old things.”

“You couldn’t have been expected to stay in the middle of nowhere, after being sent away to school and university. Anyway, can I help you?”

“Yes, have you got a Sunday paper left? Any one will do. The
Despatch
?” He laughed. A real rag, that one. “Yes, that’ll do fine,” he said, and retreated back up to the flat.

His coffee was lukewarm, so he put it in a saucepan to heat up, and unfolded the newspaper. A picture of a snake, rising to strike, took up the whole of the top half of the front page. Underneath, a young girl smiled at the camera in a smaller picture. He read the text and discovered that the girl had been playing in a neighbour’s house, and ventured into a small, dark room with her friend. Apparently, the door had been left open by accident, and they had encountered the unfriendly creature, which immediately struck the girl on the arm, where she had put it up to shield her face.

She was taken at once to hospital, and was being continuously monitored. The owner of the snake had been taken for questioning, and the snake confiscated by the police. There followed a strong warning by the paper about keeping wild creatures in the home as pets. Alarm was spreading about the increasing numbers of such accidents, and the local Member of Parliament was taking the matter up with the authorities.

“Ye Gods,” said Justin aloud. “Not traceable to the honourable Pettison, I hope. His name had not been mentioned, so perhaps this was another case which apparently had nothing to do with him.”

A nasty smell of burning coffee sent him running to the kitchen, where he ditched the contents of the saucepan and set about making a fresh lot. He supposed it was a matter of time before the investigations came close to the zoo once more. Then Pettison might find it hard to wriggle free.

*

“
D
elicious,” said
M
atthew, patting his stomach. “
Y
ou’ll soon be as good a cook as your grandmother, Josie dear.”

“As well as shopkeeper and general skivvy, mister policeman,” she replied.

“A wonder of the world! Now, can you tell me, please, where I might find a designer-dress shop called Noelle Noelle?”

“Never heard of it,” Josie said. “Why? Are you planning on buying me a present? Mum’s just given me a lovely jacket. Must be my birthday.”

“No, sadly not. I cautioned your flat tenant this morning. Doing more than forty-two miles an hour through the village. I could have booked him, but had a stern word instead. We had a chat, and I noticed a white bag peeping out from under clothes in the back. ‘Noelle Noelle’ was written on the side of it, and the strange name caught my eye. Uncle Cowgill’s asked me to look out for anything odd about Justin Brookes, so I made a note. I can look it up. Now, what’s for pudding?”

Thirty-three

D
ot was up bright and early, and took her breakfast to a little table by her front-room window.
S
he had decided to keep a watch on
B
etsy
B
rierley’s house for as many hours as she could.
T
here would be the
N
ew
B
rooms weekly meeting at noon, and she hoped maybe she would have something to report.

Yesterday, she had seen the zoo van once more parked outside the Brierleys’, and Betsy had emerged out of it looking, in Dot’s opinion, like something the cat brought in. Her hair was set in tight little curls, and she had plastered on so much makeup that her face shone like a beacon. False eyelashes, falsies under her tight sweater, and jeans so sculpted to her bottom that she could hardly move, let alone bend down to pick up the front-door key.

So she’s been off with the boss, thought Dot, and stood up, half shielded by the curtain. Betsy finally got the door open, and before she could go in, her husband had stepped out onto the pavement, and was having words with Pettison.

“Poor little sod!” muttered Dot. “That zoo man could eat him for breakfast!”

She could see Pettison laughing, and then he got into his van and drove away, leaving Ted Brierley, also laughing, standing on the pavement listening to Betsy, who, as far as Dot could tell, was shrieking at him about not being gentleman enough to pick up the door key from where she had dropped it. Eventually, the pair of them went inside, and the street was quiet.

“I’d not change places with her for all the world,” Dot said to her parrot, now so old and mangy that it could hardly move. “Lost all the respect she ever had. Pettison don’t respect her, nor does Ted, and nobody in the street will speak to her. She pretends she don’t care, but I bet when she’s alone in the house, she cries her eyes out.”

Dot could not have been more wrong. Betsy Brierley went upstairs, changed into more comfortable clothes, and set about berating her husband for making such a fool of them both. “You’re wasting your breath on him, Ted,” she said. “He’s a stuck-up fool, and one of these days he’ll get his comeuppance. Still, his money’s good, and I had a good feast for supper last night. A glass of champagne as a starter! That’s the life, Ted.”

“It may be the life for you, and I know we got together as a cover for your sex therapies, as you like to call them. There’s nothing much between us, I know, never has been. But I won’t be made to look a fool, Betsy. That man makes me look a fool, and delights in it. People talk, and lately I’ve been taunted at the club about people whose wives flaunt their wares. We didn’t start that way, Betsy. It was all decent and undercover. Better get back to that, before we lose what respect we’ve got left.”

“Long speech, Ted. I’m really scared!” she replied, lighting a cigarette and posing like a second-rate actress by the fireplace. “All I’ve got to say is, where would we be without Robert Pettison? He pays for me, and for when we hide his little animals. And if you’re not happy with that, I reckon we could split and I could blackmail him to marry me! Then where would you be?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Ted. “And go and take that muck off your face.”

*

J
ust before
D
ot was about to leave for
F
arnden and the New Brooms meeting, there was a knock at her door. To her surprise, when she opened it, there stood Ted from over the road. “What do you want? I’m going out now.”

“A couple of minutes, Dot,” he said. “I think you’ll be interested.”

She led him into her front room and turned. “I’m not asking you to sit down, because I really have to get going. What is it, anyway?”

“It’s about Pettison, him at the zoo. You know my wife treats him for his rheumatism.”

Dot chuckled. “I’ve never heard it called that,” she said.

“Well, she sees him regularly, and has got to know a lot of what goes on there. I know you’re in touch with some clever chaps who operate, well, you know, sometimes the wrong side of the law.”

Dot said nothing, and he carried on. “The thing is, I need some help. It’s confidential, like, an’ I need it to be kept that way. Do you know of one of your late husband’s colleagues who might be able to help?”

“I can try,” said Dot. “But I’ll need to know a bit more about it, before I can get them interested.”

“Right, well, it’s to do with the zoo and the rare animals he’s got there. And about the accidents there. I keep my ear to the ground, and I intend to make use of what I know.”

“You mean blackmail?” said Dot bluntly. “Don’t even think of it, Ted. And my lot are old friends of Mr Pettison. Now I must fly, else Mrs M will give me the sack!”

He turned and made for the door. “Thanks anyway, Dot,” he said. “If you do decide to help, I’ll see you right by it. Now to go and play dutiful partner to my lovely girl.”

*

L
ois was talking to the rest of the team when
D
ot arrived, and she ushered her into the office.

“Sorry I’m late, Mrs M,” she said. “But I’ve got something to tell you about Ted Brierley. He just came round wanting help.”

The business of the meeting carried on, and Lois sorted out who was going where, who wanted a change of scene, and which, if any, of her clients had complained about a member of the team.

“One funny thing happened this week,” said Hazel, who ran the office in Dot’s street. “You know that Betsy Brierley, her who keeps open house to deserving customers? Well, she came running down the street once or twice during the week like she was being chased by one of them tigers in the zoo. She works for him up there, doesn’t she? Then, the final time, she shot straight into the office and sat down in front of my desk, back to the window.”

“So what did you do?” said Lois.

“Asked her if she wanted help in the house. She laughed in a raucous kind of way, and said no, she already had a man.”

“And?”

“So I said I was busy, and if she didn’t want our help, I’d see her on her way. She looked furtively round at the window, and then got up. ‘Thanks for the shelter,’ she said, and left before I could tell her that it was not, nor had been, raining.”

“Losing her marbles,” said Dot. “Caught something from one of her clients, I reckon. They say it softens the brain.”

Lois did not know what to make of all this, but hoped that Dot’s promised revelation would make all become clear. “Right,” she said. “If there’s no more business to deal with, let’s call Gran in, and have coffee before you go. Thanks, everyone.”

“You don’t think I should worry, then, Mrs M,” said Hazel, not quite satisfied. “They’re a rough lot up that end of the street. I do sometimes feel vulnerable, sitting there.”

“Not so much of the rough lot!” said Dot. “Don’t forget I live up that end. Mind you, come to think of it, there’s one or two would risk their all for a couple of quid. Keep the safe locked, dearie,” she added. “You can always give me a bell if you’re worried, an’ I’ll come down and rescue you.”

“Thanks, Dot,” said Hazel. “I’d do the same for you. But do you have any idea what she might have been doing?”

“I reckon the worm has turned in that house. Old Ted has had enough, according to what he told me. He’s not much of a man, but even he is finally fed up with being made to look such a fool. Did you see him? Or had he gone back home after chasing her with an axe?”

Hazel’s eyes widened. “Do you mean that?” she said.

“No, only joking! But I have seen him push her out and lock the door behind her. Now then, Mrs M, I should be going to Waltonby. Any more instructions?”

“I thought you had something more to tell me,” Lois said.

“Yeah, well, coffee first.”

After the others had gone, Dot asked if now was a good time to tell about Ted’s request.

“Fine. Fire away,” said Lois.

“Seems he’s planning to blackmail Pettison. At least, I think that’s what he meant. Wanted me to ask one of my less-than-reputable family to help him. I told him he was wasting his time, and that my lot were well in with Robert Pettison. I advised against it, but it’s obvious he’s had enough, poor devil. I said if he was really serious, I might try to help. Did I do right?”

“We shall see, Dot. Thanks, anyway,” answered Lois.