by Sam Short
“Would you mind dropping me off at the wool shop?” asked Mary. “I really would like to have a look in there. I don’t want to get involved in all this murder mystery business. It’s not like on the television. I feel quite sick about it all.”
“Of course,” said Geoffrey. “How will you get home?”
“The bus,” said Mary. “I enjoy a bus ride. It will be nice.”
Half an hour later, Pepper walked through Picklebury allotments with Winston and Geoffrey. As they entered the Picklebury Garden Lovers Club allotment shed, Agnes looked up at them, cake crumbs on her lips and a pencil in her hand as she scribbled in the notepad on the table. “Oh, hello,” she said, as the three of them entered the shed. She looked expectantly at the door for a few seconds, and then looked at Geoffrey. “Where’s Mary?” she asked.
“We left her behind in Chapelford,” said Winston. “She wanted to visit the wool shop.”
“Oh! That’s a blessing,” said Agnes, putting a hand on her chest. “I’ve got news that I don’t want her to hear!”
“News?” asked Geoffrey. “What news?”
Agnes sat back in her seat and sighed. “At first, when you lot had left, I concentrated on drinking tea, and if I’m honest — eating more cake than perhaps I should have. So then, I had a little snooze. Only for fifteen minutes, you understand? A power-nap is what those professional people on television call them. Anyway, when I woke up, I had another cup of tea to wash the cobwebs away and then —”
“Please get to the point, Agnes,” said Winston.
Scowling at Winston, Agnes huffed. “How dare you! I’ve been here on my own — oh, what on earth happened to your face, Winston?” She looked at Geoffrey. “Yours too? What’s been going on?”
“We got into a bit of a scuffle with Percy and Harry,” said Geoffrey. “It’s nothing for you to concern yourself about, Agnes. Now, without embellishment, what’s the news that you don’t want Mary to hear?”
Agnes licked crumbs from her lips. “After the cup of tea I drank upon waking up, I decided to have a look through the little spy-hole you made in the shed. I’ve never used binoculars before, but I think I was using them correctly. Anyway – I saw somebody, and if I was using the binoculars properly, then you’ll never believe me when I tell you who I saw fiddling with Stan’s shed door and going inside!”
“Who?” asked Pepper.
Pushing the notepad across the desk towards Geoffrey, Agnes tapped a finger on the top page. “I’ve written it down,” she said. “I don’t want to say it out loud, because it makes no sense, and I don’t want to think what it might mean if you’re right about Stan being the victim of something more sinister than an accident.”
His brow furrowed, Geoffrey picked the notebook up, adjusted his glasses, and read out loud. “I can’t believe what I just saw! I’ve checked that the glass at either end of the binoculars is clean, and it seems to be. Perhaps it was one of those — what do they call them — those things you see in the desert when you’re thirsty? A mirage — that’s it!”
“Don’t read it all. Get to the good bit!” said Winston. “If Agnes writes like she speaks, then that’s a pointless meandering essay you’re going to be reading to us!”
Geoffrey nodded and turned a page. His eyes moved quickly as he scanned the writing, and then he turned another page. He cleared his throat. “After establishing my level of dehydration was not mirage-inducing, I can only suggest that what I saw was real. I’m finding it hard to commit what I witnessed to paper, but here goes — I saw Father Dominic breaking into Stan Wilmot’s shed!”
Chapter 22
“Mary’s husband?” said Winston, astonishment on his face. “What on earth would a man of God be doing breaking into Stan Wilmot’s shed? Are you sure it was him, Agnes?”
Agnes nodded. “I’m as sure as I can be,” she said. “He had the same dark clothing on he always wears, and his white collar was quite visible. Those binoculars are very powerful — I could see his face as if I was standing next to him.”
“Dark clothing,” said Pepper, puzzle pieces slotting into place within her mind. “The person we saw sneaking around the allotments yesterday was wearing dark clothing,” she said. What she didn’t say was that Mary had told her that Dominic disliked her speaking with Stan. The puzzle was almost complete. There was motive and possibly opportunity.
“Wait a minute!” said Winston. “I think we should be much more certain of our facts before we have conversations like this. What possible reason would Father Dominic have had for sneaking around the allotments yesterday? And what possible reason could he have had for breaking into Stan’s shed, but the biggest question I’m asking myself is — what possible reason could Father Dominic have had for getting into an argument with Stan Wilmot? An argument that might have turned violent?”
Pepper frowned. Mary had told her about the problems with her husband in confidence. She couldn’t tell the other members of the gardening club until she was quite sure that it had been Dominic who Agnes had seen, and even then she wouldn’t feel right about giving Mary’s secret away.
She’d cross that bridge when she got to it though, after she’d found out for sure that it had been the vicar who’d broken into a dead man’s shed. “Perhaps we should have a look around the shed for clues?” she suggested. “Perhaps we’ll find a fresh footprint or something else that will confirm he’s been there.”
“Good idea,” said Geoffrey. “It will be no use us going to Sergeant Saxon and suggesting that one of the most upstanding men in town had anything to do with what she’s treating as a tragic accident, without something to suggest he might be involved. We have to gather as much information as we can before we approach the police.”
“And imagine how poor Mary would react if we were suddenly to go accusing her husband,” noted Agnes. “I know I saw him, but maybe he was there for an innocent reason. He is a vicar after all — maybe he was saying a few words for Stan’s soul.”
“We won’t know until we’ve done some digging around,” said Geoffrey. “Let’s go and take a look, but be careful where you put your feet — try not to disturb any footprints or other evidence that may be on the ground.”
“Perhaps you should go alone Geoffrey,” suggested Agnes. “You’re the one with the police training. You know what to look for.”
“I find myself agreeing with Agnes,” said Winston, topping the kettle up with water from a bottle alongside it. “In a situation such as this, the fewer people involved, the better.”
“I’m going with Geoffrey,” said Pepper. “I’ve already seen inside the shed, and I had a good look around outside. I’ll notice any new footprints.”
Although those two reasons were valid, what Pepper really wanted to do was touch the grapevine and find out what it had remembered about the visitor who Agnes had seen. The longer she left it, the weaker the plant’s memories would be.
“I have no objections,” said Geoffrey. “In fact, it’s a good idea. Four pairs of feet might disturb any evidence, but two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
“Then get on with it,” said Agnes. “I have to know what Mary’s husband was up to.”
Geoffrey nodded his reply, grabbed a screwdriver from a shelf full of tools, and gestured at Pepper to follow him.
They used the same path that Pepper had followed Mary along before she’d discovered Stan’s body, and as they neared the shed, Geoffrey slowed down and stepped off the path. “Best not to trample any fresh footprints while we’re looking for them.”
“I’ll check the path on the other side of the shed,” offered Pepper.
“Good idea,” said Geoffrey. “I’ll check this path for footprints, and then I’ll remove the lock from the shed door. Do you think you’ll know if anything’s been disturbed inside?”
“I don’t know,” said Pepper. “It’s quite a mess in there.”
Geoffrey nodded. “We can only do our best.”
As Geoffrey continued to tread s
lowly alongside the pathway which led to the door of the shed, Pepper scouted a route through Stan’s well-kept potato patch and skirted around the edge of the shed until she found the grapevine. Checking that Geoffrey was still concentrating on his own task, she grasped one of the woody stems and closed her eyes.
The vibes hit her immediately, and she concentrated on what they were telling her. The plant was still struggling to grow, and Pepper made a silent promise to herself that she would help it when the situation surrounding Stan’s death had been resolved. She gripped the stem tighter and worked on deciphering the messages which flowed from the plant.
She gave a gentle sigh as the information flooded her mind. She concentrated hard on trying to make sense of it and then nodded as a picture began forming. Soft footsteps — different from the heavier ones the plant had detected the day before. These footsteps were made by a lighter shoe, not the sort of heavy footwear you’d associate with allotments. That didn’t mean that they hadn’t been made by the same person though, it just meant that the footwear itself was different.
She heard the swish of fabric and worked on deciphering what it meant, before realising it was the sound of trouser legs moving as the person wearing them walked. Then the plant imparted more vibes into Pepper’s hand, and a stronger image began forming in her mind. “This is a clearer picture than you gave me yesterday,” she whispered. “Try harder. Give me more.”
Although the plant couldn’t hear her words, Pepper liked to imagine they helped, and as she concentrated on what the plant was telling her, the image in her mind flickered and became clearer. A dark shape. She screwed her eyes tighter, silently begging the plant to give her more. The grapevine obliged, and more sounds accompanied the image which Pepper was seeing. She heard the frustrated mutterings of a man, but couldn’t make out the individual words he had spoken.
Then, as she applied more pressure to the plant, the image cleared and she saw the man fiddling with the padlock on the shed door. She listened, and then realised that the metallic clicking sounds weren’t the sounds of the shed being broken into. They were the sounds of a padlock being opened. The intruder had come equipped with a key.
She licked her lips as she dragged the image into closer focus, trying to sharpen it in her mind’s eye, trying to separate light from shadow and greens from blues. Then, suddenly, she was able to make out what the man was wearing. A dark raincoat, and dark trousers. She concentrated on keeping the image crisp and ran her mind’s eye up the man’s body — right up to his neck. There it was — a white collar.
Pepper nodded. Agnes had been right, and as she focused on the man’s head as he looked left and right, no doubt checking for observers, all doubt left her. There he was — as if he was standing in front of her. Father Dominic – Mary’s husband.
Having confirmed for herself that the person Agnes had seen was indeed Father Dominic, Pepper released her grip on the grapevine and stepped carefully around the shed, being careful not to disturb any footprints the vicar might have left behind.
Removing the last screw from the door bracket, Geoffrey looked towards Pepper as she approached. “Did you find anything? Any footprints?”
“No,” said Pepper, her mind working quickly. How could she make Geoffrey believe that it had been Father Dominic who’d broken into Stan’s shed without telling him she’d received that information from a plant? An idea crossed her mind, and she made a show of sniffing the air. “Can you smell that?” she said.
Geoffrey wrinkled his nose and lifted his chin. He moved his head from left to right, his nostrils flaring as he smelled the air. “Smell what? All I can smell is that fresh manure that old Harold has dug into his soil.”
Pepper shook her head, not liking the fact that she was lying, but comforting herself with the fact that sometimes a lie was just another way of telling the truth. “No,” she said. “Can’t you smell the aftershave? It smells just like the one Father Dominic was wearing when he came to the community hall last night.”
“Aftershave?” said Geoffrey, taking another deep breath through his nose. “No. I can’t. Are you sure? Maybe it’s me that you can smell. My niece bought me a posh body wash and spray set for Christmas. I only got around to using it this week. Maybe it’s that you can smell?”
“No. I’m sure Father Dominic was here recently,” said Pepper. She stared at Geoffrey. “I know it.”
“You say you can smell him?” asked Geoffrey, scepticism evident in his eyes.
Pepper simply nodded, not liking the feeling a lie made when it left her mouth.
“You’re sure Father Dominic has been here recently?” Said Geoffrey, removing the bracket and padlock from the shed door and looking intently at Pepper as he waited for her answer.
“I’m sure. I’m one hundred per cent certain,” announced Pepper. “Father Dominic has been here very recently.”
Geoffrey nodded. “I’ve worked with a lot of coppers in my time, and some of them were like you. When they were convinced of something they got a certain look on their face, and you knew that if they had that look, you could trust whatever it was they had to tell you. You’ve got the look on your face, Pepper. I believe you. Let’s have a quick look around inside the shed, and then regroup in the community hall and decide what we’re going to do.”
Chapter 23
Geoffrey sat at the head of the table. “I think it’s safe to say that tonight’s meeting of the Picklebury Garden Lover’s Club will not involve our usual plant care tips or sea-shanty sing-alongs. We’re here to discuss what has happened to Stan and what we’re going to do with the information we’ve gathered today. The gardening club doesn’t officially start for another hour, and Mary is always very punctual, so we have sixty minutes in which to discuss what to do about Father Dominic.”
“Before we go on,” said Winston, standing up and taking a sheet of paper from a folder on the table. “I must insist that if you wish to be a part of this discussion, Pepper, then you must join our club. Should there be a fire, flood, swarm, fight, structural collapse, hurricane, meteor strike or other unexpected event — the community hall’s insurance policy will not cover non-club members and may even invalidate any claim put forward by the building’s owners. As the representative for the building’s owners, I must insist that you become a fully sworn in member of our club if you wish to remain in this building at this time.”
Pepper looked at Geoffrey, who just shrugged. “You do seem to like plants, Pepper,” he said.
Mental alarm bells rang in Pepper’s mind. Clubs meant being expected to be somewhere at a specific time, being involved with other people, taking on responsibilities and making friends. She took a deep breath. Winston appeared to be quite serious, and deciding that getting to the bottom of what had happened to Stan was more important than her social insecurities, Pepper relented. “Okay,” she said. “Give me the piece of paper and the pen. I’ll sign it. I’ll join the club.”
“It’s not as simple as signing a form,” said Winston. “There’s an oath to be taken, and an initiation ceremony to be completed.”
Agnes winced. “It’s been so long, but I still remember my initiation ceremony.”
Geoffrey shook his head. “We don’t have time for that. Mary will be here in less than an hour. Pepper can take her oath at another time, and as for the initiation ceremony, we have no cactus here today.”
Winston gave a frustrated nod of his head. “Okay,” he mumbled. “I’ll allow that.” He slid the sheet of paper across the table towards Pepper and placed a pen on top of it. “Please sign the form. It will give you full membership of the club and allow you access to the benefits which come with it.”
“He means access to the biscuit tin and the teapot,” explained Geoffrey.
Scratching her signature along the dotted line, Pepper looked up. “Cactus?” she said.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” said Geoffrey. “It’s just a bit of fun.” He stood up and began pacing the length of the community
hall. “Now, down to business. What do we know so far? We know that Stan died in what the police are calling an accident, however Pepper and I have both had powerful gut feelings which suggest otherwise. Are we all in agreement?”
“Agreed,” said Winston.
“Yes,” said Agnes. “At first, I wasn’t in agreement, but after witnessing Father Dominic entering Stan’s shed in such a suspicious manner, I’m willing to believe that all may not be as it seems.”
“Pepper?” said Geoffrey. “Would you like to take the floor? After all, it was your initial hunch which began our little investigation.”
Pepper nodded. “I’d like to add that —”
“Please stand up and literally take the floor, Pepper,” said Geoffrey. “It helps people concentrate and will give you a measure of authority.”
Swallowing her frustration, Pepper pushed her chair back and stood up. She walked to Geoffrey’s side and put her hands behind her back in the same way he was. She began walking, taking three or four steps, before turning and walking the other way. “We know that Stan argued with four people for certain. The two brothers who allege that Stan was selling them drugs and that he had a mystery partner, and Harry and Percy, who I feel are both completely innocent of any wrongdoing.”
“I agree with that analysis,” said Geoffrey. “Harry and Percy are to be dropped from our investigation forthwith.”
“While the brothers were breaking the law by using cannabis,” continued Pepper. “I don’t think they had anything to do with what happened to Stan, although we can’t be absolutely sure, and we have no evidence that Stan was involved with supplying cannabis except for the cash that was found in his possession after he died.”
“Almost three-hundred pounds,” said Geoffrey. “In new notes.”
“It’s certainly something to think about,” agreed Pepper. “Then we have Harry and Percy’s sighting of Oswald Clementine, the film director, who had his lights stolen from the allotments and who was seen entering the allotment car park last night.”
