A Pasty In A Pear Tree

by Daphne Neville

  Lottie looked up. “Well, yes, it looks like there is. Do you think there might be someone in there?”

  Hetty shuddered. “That’s what I’d like to know but I don’t think I want to hang around and find out. On the other hand, perhaps it’s left on for security reasons.”

  Lottie shook her head. “No, if that were the case they’d leave lights on at the front of the house rather than round the back.”

  “You’re right. Come on, since we’re here anyway, we’ll just creep round to the back door and listen out for voices. If we hear nothing then we can then go back home.” She shivered. “I wish I’d put a coat on though because it’s quite chilly out here.”

  “I agree but I daresay some of the cold is being caused by fear.”

  “Fear,” repeated Hetty, “there’s nothing to be frightened of.”

  “If you say so.” Lottie was unconvinced. “You lead and I’ll follow.”

  They followed the path around to the rear of the house and there listened carefully by the back door. All it seemed was quiet and so they then moved along towards the kitchen window and peeped inside. There was no light in the room and no sound either.

  “There’s no-one here. Come on,” said Lottie, “let’s get back to the fire before we freeze to death.”

  But as they turned they saw a small, dim, red light glowing in the darkness, like the end of a lighted cigarette.

  “You’re going nowhere,” said a voice in the darkness. And before they had time to run each were grabbed by a strong arm and pushed inside the back door of Tuzzy-Muzzy.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Shall we pop down to the pub for something to eat?” Shelley asked Ginger. “There’s nothing on the telly that I want to see and I’m feeling quite peckish.”

  “Yeah, so am I. Those microwave meals were pretty small, weren’t they?” She tossed her tablet to one side. “But what about the blokes?”

  “We’ll leave the key under the old plant pot so there’s no need to worry. Better leave them a note though to let them know where we are. Not that they’ll care.”

  “Okay, but I don’t really see why we should as we’ve no idea where they are half the time.”

  “True.” Ginger looked at her phone for the time. “Better get a move on as they stop doing food at nine.”

  From an upstairs window of Pentrillick House, Jeremy watched through his binoculars as a taxi pulled up just beyond the fair area and into it stepped Steve, Nick, Patrick, Patricia and the two young men who looked after the helter skelter. He assumed, as was the case with many who owned fairground attractions and who ran stalls that they were going to the Crown and Anchor. Jeremy wished that he too could go and be a fly on the wall but knew it was out of the question for his parents only ever went to the pub for specific occasions, usually fund raising events and so there was no way he could suggest to them that they all go to the pub for the evening.

  Steve was the last to get into the taxi, he wasn’t wearing the gloves or even a coat. Jeremy sighed. Since the day that he had seen the gloves in Steve’s caravan, he had, whenever it was possible, observed his movements, but to his dismay he had done nothing at all suspicious and never once had gone anywhere near the lake. And as for the bottles that he had bought the previous day, they all contained beer for Jeremy had seen them as he had casually walked by the caravan where the box stood on the ground as Steve had unlocked the door.

  As the taxi pulled away, he picked up the latest detective novel for which he had gone to the room in the first place and made his way down to the sitting room.

  Inside Tuzzy-Muzzy, Hetty and Lottie sat on the floor of a bathroom. Both had their legs bound together with gaffer tape and likewise each had their wrists tied at the front with coarse rope; their hands rested on their laps. Another rope ran from their ankles and was knotted to the base of the wash basin pedestal.

  “Humph,” said Lottie, as they heard two doors slam shut on the van beyond the back gate, “at least they’ve left enough slack on the rope so that we can use the loo.”

  “But not enough for us to get to the door or the window,” Hetty said in frustration.

  They heard the sound of an engine start up. “Good, they’re going, now we can figure out how to escape.” Lottie tried to free her hands from the rope.

  Hetty laughed. “I doubt if Houdini could get out of this pickle.”

  “Oh, no, Het, you’re wrong there, he’d have seen this as a piece of cake.”

  “Really, I’ll leave you to work out the escape plan then, clever clogs.”

  As Hetty finished speaking both heard the sound of tapping.

  “What’s that?” Hetty was alarmed.

  Lottie quickly glanced around the room. “I don’t know but I don’t like the idea of us being in this old place in the dead of night. It’s spooky even though they’ve left the light on.”

  “Spooky, my foot, that sound wasn’t made by a ghost, spook or whatever you want to call it and it came from over there.” She nodded her head towards the interior wall and then still sitting she shuffled across the floor and with her cuffed hands knocked against the cladding. Instantly someone knocked back.

  Hetty jumped. “Cripes, who’s that?” she stuttered.

  “Shout louder and ask.”

  “Okay.” Hetty cleared her throat. “Who’s there?”

  “Aimée Dupont,” came a faint reply.

  Lottie gasped. “Aimée. She must be in another bathroom then and it was the light from that room that we saw from outside.”

  “And she’s alive,” said Hetty, “Thank goodness for that.”

  “Amen, but if she’s been trussed up like us for the last few days, she must be in a bad way.”

  “You’re right,” Hetty knocked on the wall again. “Aimée, we’re in the bathroom next to you and we’re trying to work out how to escape.”

  A knock in return was followed by Aimée’s voice. “Who is we?” she asked.

  “Hetty and Lottie, we’ve never been introduced but you’ll have seen us in the pub on a few occasions. Don’t be frightened, we’ll sort something out.” She turned to Lottie. “Well, have you thought out how we can escape yet?” she asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

  Lottie nodded. “Oh yes,” and in her cuffed hands she held up the box of matches which she had taken from her pocket. “I’m going to burn through the rope around your wrists.”

  After choir practise, Kitty Vickery locked up the church and dropped the cumbersome key into the pocket of her jacket. She then walked through the village to return to her home. As she passed by the Crown and Anchor she peeped in through one of the windows which ran with condensation. Visibility was poor but she concluded by the noise coming from inside that people were already getting into the festive spirit. She paused. A mulled wine would slip down a treat but she resisted the temptation and went on her way.

  It was dark as she crossed the road and turned into Long Lane for there were no street lights to light her way. From her bag she took out her torch and walked on up the hill behind the beam of light, quietly singing the anthem the choir had learned for Christmas.

  All seemed eerily still as she passed by the closed gates of Tuzzy-Muzzy but inside Primrose Cottage the lights were on and she could hear the signature tune of a popular television programme. Suddenly she stopped. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She sensed that something was wrong but had no inkling as to what or why. Without a second thought she opened the gates and knocked on the cottage door. No-one answered but Albert barked and she could see his shadow through a stained glass panel in the door. She knocked again but still no-one answered. She looked behind to where Hetty’s car was parked on the tarmac. She paused to think. Perhaps the sisters had walked to the pub for a drink, but deep down she knew that was not the case. She clasped the door handle and gently pushed it down. The door was not locked and so she knew the sisters must be at home. With the door slightly ajar she called out, “Hetty, Lottie, are you alright?”

/>   No-one answered. She pushed the door wide open and stepped inside. Albert jumped up at her legs barking wildly.

  “Down boy,” she said, “you’ll leave hairs on my skirt.”

  Albert obeyed but he continued to bark as she closed the door.

  “Quiet, quiet, please,” she commanded.

  Albert’s bark ceased and then he began to whine.

  “Where are Hetty and Lottie?” Kitty asked, glancing around the hallway.

  Albert’s tail wagged on hearing the sisters’ names.

  “I must check all the rooms,” she said, brushing past the dog.

  Albert followed as Kitty went from room to room but there was no sign of the two women anywhere. Back in the hallway she reached for Albert’s lead hanging from a coat peg and clipped it onto his collar.

  “Find Hetty,” she commanded, “find Lottie.”

  Once outside, Albert ran towards the gates dragging Kitty behind him. He allowed her no time to close the gates nor time to switch on her torch and to her surprise he ran only a few yards and then stopped by the gates of Tuzzy-Muzzy where he leapt up barking nosily and hitting the latch with his paws.

  “But they won’t be in here,” said Kitty, opening the gates nonetheless. “The house is quite empty because no-one lives here. Silly boy.” She groaned. “Oh dear, I hope you don’t think we’re chasing cats because I know Ginny’s cat, Snowy, treats all of the gardens along here as his own.”

  But Albert was not interested in cats, he was following a scent and knew he was on the right track. Once through the gates he dragged Kitty along the driveway, then around the side of the house and on towards the back door where barking excitedly, he scratched at the paintwork, his tail wagging non-stop. Kitty shook her head, clearly puzzled by the dog’s behaviour.

  Meanwhile, inside the bathroom of Tuzzy-Muzzy, Hetty and Lottie heard the welcome sound of Albert barking. For although they had successfully freed themselves from the ropes that had tied their hands and the gaffer tape that had bound their feet, they were unable to leave the room because their captors had placed a large wardrobe in front of the doorway to prevent them getting out.

  Hetty, intrigued to know how Albert had managed to leave Primrose Cottage and find his way round to Tuzzy-Muzzy, flung open the window and looked down to the garden below. Kitty had now switched on her torch and was flashing it over the back of the house.

  “Who’s there?” Hetty called, unable to see the face behind the torch.

  “It’s me, Kitty Vickery. Is that you, Hetty?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “Where are you?”

  “We’re in the bathroom.”

  Albert stopped barking on hearing Hetty’s voice and looked up at the window. Kitty’s jaw dropped in surprise.

  “What are you doing up there?” she asked, flashing the torch across the bathroom window.

  “Long story. Come and rescue us, please. We’re locked in the bathroom, you see, and can’t get out because a damn great wardrobe is blocking the doorway.”

  “A wardrobe.” Kitty was nonplussed but nevertheless she tried the back door. It was locked. “But how can I get in without a key?” she asked.

  “Break the kitchen window,” said Hetty. “No-one will hear.”

  Kitty flashed her torch across the garden. A brick sat on top of the dustbin to prevent the lid from blowing away. Without hesitation, she picked it up and smashed the glass near to the catch. As the glass shattered she put her hands over her ears as the shrill sound of an alarm rang out through the clear, still night.

  Chapter Twenty

  Inside the Crown and Anchor, Finn and Woody nervously sat with pints of beer, puzzling how they could resolve the hopeless mess they found themselves in.

  “If only we could turn back the clock to Saturday,” said Woody, “I wish I was anywhere but here.”

  Finn scowled. “Well we can’t turn it back, can we? So we must use ours brains instead. I mean, there must be a way out of this muddle.”

  “Yeah, well you better think of one. I mean it was you that got us into it in the first place.”

  “You thought it was a good idea as well at the time,” scoffed Finn.

  “Yeah, but ideas often sound good when you’ve had a drink or two. Can’t believe we were so daft.” Woody winced as he picked up his pint glass of beer.

  “Is the hand still hurting?” Finn asked.

  “Yes, it is and so would yours be if it had been smashed against the wall by a damn great wardrobe. God knows why you thought it necessary to do that.”

  “Because there were two of them,” Finn growled, “which meant in time they might have managed to free each other and the last thing we want is them escaping and telling the old Bill what we’ve been up to.”

  “Don’t really see that as a problem. I mean, if they did try to escape the alarm would go off and that’d give us plenty of time to scarper.”

  “The alarm. You mean, you set the alarm?” Finn was flabbergasted.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “You numpty. How do you reckon we’d hear it down here in the village?”

  “Because those things are deafening and we’d certainly hear it if it went off in the middle of the night.”

  “Yeah, and so would all the folks as live in Blackberry Way. They’d have the cops up there before we’d have the chance to get dressed.”

  “Well, that’s as maybe but it isn’t likely to go off anyway, is it?” Woody looked at his hand. “Not with that damn great wardrobe there.”

  “You’re right, I suppose.” Finn sighed. “If only we’d never met the girls, then things might have gone a lot differently.” He pulled a cigarette packet from the pocket of his jeans and placed it on the table. “I could do with a fag but can’t be bothered to go outside. I wish they’d never brought in the stupid smoking ban.”

  “Why do you wish we’d never met the girls? I mean, they have nothing whatsoever to do with all this.”

  “Dunno, but I gotta blame someone.”

  Finn and Woody had met Shelley and Ginger at a fayre in Devon during which the girls told them that the Christmas Wonderland in Pentrillick would be their final destination for the year. By sheer chance, Finn and Woody had also booked a pitch at Wonderland and so when the girls told them of their planned stay at Sea View Cottage, it was agreed that the men would share the girls’ accommodation in order to keep down their expenses. For Finn and Woody knew they could not admit as to where they would otherwise have stayed, that being to squat at Tuzzy-Muzzy. For Finn had access to the house due to the fact that someone whom he had met and befriended while serving a prison sentence for GBH had offered him the loan of an illicit set of duplicate keys.

  After the fayre in Devon they went their separate ways vowing to meet up again towards the end of November ready for the opening of Wonderland on November the twenty sixth.

  When Finn and Woody arrived in Cornwall they were unaware of any other trades people with pitches at Wonderland other than the girls and so it wasn’t until the day before it opened that they learned that Simeon Dupont was to run a patisserie there. Finn was intrigued, for a year or so earlier, his then girlfriend, Misty Merryweather, had left him for a French patissier called Simeon and it crossed Finn’s mind that it might be possible they were one and the same person. Although after their parting, he’d heard nothing more of Misty or Simeon and certainly had no reason to believe the couple had married. However, after Wonderland had been open for a few days it became apparent that Simeon was in Cornwall alone and because he never mentioned having a wife or even a girlfriend, Finn assumed that they were not the same person; besides, Simeon no doubt was a commonplace name in France. It was therefore, a genuine shock to Finn when Misty appeared on the scene a few days after Simeon’s demise in a state of some distress and declared herself to be Simeon Dupont’s widow.

  Finn was delighted that Misty seemed genuinely pleased to see him and for that reason thought that if he were to play his cards right then p
erhaps they might be able to resume their relationship and rekindle the affection they had felt for one another before Simeon Dupont came onto the scene. There was after all a cake shop in London to consider which Finn knew would be worth a bob or two and should go to his poor widow, Misty. But what no-one was prepared for was the arrival of Aimée Dupont thus causing him and everyone else to realise that Simeon Dupont was a bigamist. Hence the dilemma. For Finn having learned from Aimée that Simeon’s wealth went far beyond one cake shop, had with Woody’s help kidnapped the French lady, hoping by doing so that Misty would inherit Simeon’s entire fortune. And if that were the case then some of it would certainly come in Finn’s direction if he were able to marry Misty in due course. The problem was the kidnapping was done on impulse after a few pints of beer. It had been on the night of the Pentrillick Players’ Christmas party when drinks had flowed like water. The plan was a simple one; ring Aimée and tell her that they had news regarding her husband’s death and then when she emerged from the pub, bundle her into the back of a vehicle in the car park - preferably a van - which Finn would break into. Starting the vehicle would not prove a problem because Finn was a past master at stealing cars. Once done, Aimée Dupont would be out of the way and tied up in one of Tuzzy-Muzzy’s three bathrooms and they would be back at the Crown and Anchor before they were missed. They put the plan into action. It worked and Aimée Dupont was bound and gagged with ropes and gaffer tape which they had found in a Tuzzy-Muzzy shed.

  However, on waking up on Sunday morning and remembering what they had done they realised it had been a ridiculous idea and were clueless as to what their next move should be. If Aimée were to die in circumstances that looked anything other than accidental then their plan could unravel. The problem was neither Finn nor Woody had a thirst for murder anyway. Dodgy deals yes and minor offences but murder wasn’t their scene. And then as if things were not already bad enough, the two old dears from Primrose Cottage had poked in their noses meaning that all three ladies were now locked up in Tuzzy-Muzzy’s bathrooms until they could come up with a plausible plan.