Death at the Duck Pond

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Death at the Duck Pond Page 6

by J New


  “That’s the best I can do, Fischer. Let’s go, or Susie will be wondering where we’ve got to.”

  Downstairs, Susie was leafing through one of the books on the coffee table. She addressed Penny without lifting her head. “Is this book any good? It says it’s a psychological thriller about an agoraphobic woman who spies on her neighbours and thinks she sees a crime. I’ve to write a book review for the paper, so if I’m going to have to actually read something it may as well be enjoyable.”

  “You make it sound as though reading is torture. It really isn’t, you know. That book’s pretty good, but if you don’t have time to read it, I’ll write a review for you to publish. No charge. Call it a thank you for being my bodyguard for the morning.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal.” Susie looked up, and her eyes widened. “Are you wearing make up? It suits you.” She grinned, “Anything you want to tell me?”

  “I’ve no idea what you mean,” Penny said, her natural colour rising. “Aren’t you the one who always says a little bit of makeup makes you feel ready to take on the world? It’s not every day my life gets threatened, so I thought I’d give it a try, that’s all.”

  Susie chuckled. “In that case, we should finish what you’ve started. That hair of yours needs sorting out. Do you still have the hot irons from the ill-fated hair straightening episode?”

  “Ha ha. I thought we weren’t going to mention that ever again.”

  “We’re not, I promise. Just go and get them, and I’ll show you a trick. You can thank me afterwards.”

  Grumbling, Penny did as she was told. After ten minutes of primping and twisting, Susie declared she was done. She stood back to admire her handiwork. “Perfect. You can go and take a look now.”

  Staring into the hallway mirror, Penny gasped when she saw her reflection. “Is that me? How did you do that?” Bouncy waves grazed her shoulders, in a messy-but-done look. Rather than random strands sticking out at all angles, kinks were strategically placed. Best of all, the halo of frizz had gone, thanks to a tiny drop of the hair oil Susie carried around in her bag.

  Susie and Fischer joined her in the hallway. “I’ll show you another time. It just takes a little practice. Ready?”

  Penny nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Now do you believe that Mrs Montague was murdered? and the killer is coming after me?” Penny was once again sitting opposite Inspector Monroe in the interview room at Winstoke Police Station. Fischer, too, had made himself at home underneath the table.

  The Inspector, it seemed, was never off duty. Unshaven, with shirt sleeves rolled up to show muscular forearms, and dark hair falling across his forehead as he inspected the note Penny had brought, he looked as though he’d been there all night. “I can’t comment as to the possibility of murder, but I can assure you, we will be taking this note very seriously, Penny. Your safety is of paramount importance. While we’re investigating, I’ll have one of my officers check in on you a couple of times a day to make sure you’re okay.”

  “PC Bolton?” Penny’s heart sank. She rearranged her face, hoping her disappointment didn’t show. PC Bolton was an elderly, pleasant, bumbling sort of policeman, more suited to giving directions and helping pedestrians across roads than protecting people from murderers. The problem was, Inspector Monroe still wasn’t convinced there was a murderer.

  “I’ll see what I can do. If I can send someone who is more experienced I will certainly try and do so. I’ll keep this, if that’s all right with you?” With gloved hands, he slipped the note into a plastic cover, sealed it, and scribbled something on the label.

  “Of course.” Penny realised there was nothing else she could do. Deflated, she inhaled sharply, trying to hold herself together. The rush of adrenalin she had felt earlier had deserted her. Breaking down in tears wasn’t going to achieve anything, apart from upsetting Fischer and embarrassing herself. “Thank you.”

  “Do you need a lift home or anything? I’m just about to finish my shift. Or rather, it’s yesterday’s shift. I never quite made it out the door. Something else came up after you were here.”

  “Thanks, but it’s fine. Susie’s waiting.”

  Monroe’s expression flickered. If he wondered why Edward had not accompanied her on her visit, he never commented. Instead, he stood up, and walking to the door held it open for her.

  In the hallway, he hesitated, gazing at her for a moment longer than was comfortable. “You look different today, Penny. You seem… “ He took a step closer, looking into Penny’s eyes, transfixed. She caught her breath and their surroundings seem to fade away.

  “Sorry, lack of sleep,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Please, keep in touch. If there’s anything else at all, call me on my direct line, day or night.”

  “I will, thanks.” Penny walked slowly back to Susie, her legs like jelly.

  “Outside, quick, for the debrief,” Susie hissed, when Penny and Fischer reached the end of the hallway where it opened into the waiting area.

  On the way back to the car, Penny brought Susie up to speed on the meeting with the Inspector. She ended with a sigh, “As far as convincing him of Mrs Montague’s murder, he’s not interested. Although, he was reassuring about the note and said they would do their best to get to the bottom of it.”

  “You missed a bit.” Susie raised an eyebrow. “You know, when DI Monroe gave you that smouldering look as you were leaving? I saw it all. He was definitely admiring you. For a second, I thought he was going to lean in and kiss you.”

  Penny hoped Susie couldn’t hear her heart pounding through her chest. “Don’t be ridiculous. You watch too many soap operas.” She turned on the car radio to distract Susie from asking any more questions, secretly pleased her imagination had not been playing tricks on her.

  Eight

  “Looks like it’s just you and me, Fischer.”

  Penny fastened the door chain on the inside of the door and pushed down the snib to secure the lock. A legacy from the cottage’s previous owners, the chain allowed the door to be opened slightly to identify visitors. She’d never had reason to use it but considered it wouldn’t do any harm as a precaution. As safety features went, it offered scant protection from intruders, but it provided her with some peace of mind. If there were ever uninvited guests it should buy her a little time.

  She leaned the golf club Susie had given her against the wall behind the door. It belonged to Susie’s son, Billy, and accepting it was the only way Susie would let her go back into the house alone.

  “Here,” Susie had said, after explaining she had to get something out of the boot of the car when she dropped Penny home. “It’s a driver. Billy won’t be playing golf again until spring. He won’t miss it.”

  “I know what it is.” Penny waved it away. “I don’t want it. If I hit someone with that thing, it will be me going to jail.”

  Susie placed a hand on her hip. “I didn’t say you had to use it. Think of it as a deterrent.”

  “I became quite proficient in my self defense classes at university, remember? It might be a while since I’ve practised, but I’m quite sure if I’m threatened I’ll remember the moves.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not leaving unless you take it.”

  In the end Penny had accepted the club with a sigh. She knew that look of determination on Susie’s face. “Anything for a quiet life. Thanks.” Only then had Susie driven away, promising to telephone her regularly throughout the afternoon to make sure she was safe.

  Door secured, Penny wandered into the living room and let out an involuntary shiver. In her hurry to get away earlier she had not banked up the fire, and it had gone out. She rubbed her hands together. “Let’s get warmed up, Fischer. Then we’ll get some lunch. Moping around isn’t going to achieve anything.”

  Sorting out the fire was nothing a fire-lighter and some kindling couldn’t fix, and by the time Penny
and Fischer had eaten, the living room was once again toasty. Mug of tea in hand, she sank into the cushions on the sofa. Moments later, Fischer jumped up to join her. Curled on her lap, she stroked him with her free hand. Note or no note, she knew she was going to be okay, if only because of her inner conviction that whatever life threw at her, she could deal with it.

  The moment was broken by a series of loud knocks on the door, and a voice calling through the letterbox. “Penny? Open up, it’s me.”

  Fischer cocked his head, then nestled back down again.

  Penny smiled, nudging him so she could get up. “It’s Edward, Fischer. We can’t just ignore him.”

  She opened the door to a sheepish-looking Edward, who was carrying a plastic bag and a bunch of drooping service station flowers. “I come in peace,” he smiled, offering her the flowers. “Sorry about last night.”

  “Me too.” Penny said, accepting the bouquet and standing back to let him in.

  He placed his hand in the small of her back and gave her a fleeting kiss. “Hey,” he said, catching her eye. He gently tilted her face up towards him. “What’s wrong?”

  To her surprise, Penny’s eyes were welling with tears, and she choked back a sob. “Let me put the flowers in water, I’ve got quite a lot to tell you.”

  After taking a deep breath and composing herself, she delivered the story about her conversation with Celia, and the two trips to the police station, sandwiched by the threatening note. Edward, frowning, spluttered with indignation throughout.

  “So, there you have it. What do you make of that?” She gave Edward an imploring look. “I can tell you’re annoyed the police won’t take me seriously about it being murder, and so am I, but please don’t go making a fuss. I’ve decided the best thing to do is just sit tight and see what happens. Unless you have any better ideas?”

  “To tell you the truth, Penny, I thought you would know better than to go sticking your nose into something like this. Let the police do their job. That’s what we pay our taxes for. What makes you think you know better than them? It’s no wonder the cranks are coming out of the woodwork to scare you. Nobody likes a busybody who’s got too big for their boots, and ever since you were involved in helping to solve Julia Wargraves’ murder you’ve been insufferable. If you’re expecting sympathy from me, you can look elsewhere.” He shook his head, exhaling loudly. “Quite frankly, I think you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

  Edward’s words stung Penny more than if he had slapped her. She inwardly recoiled, regarding him in confusion. Since when had he become so cold and uncaring? Part of her wondered if that side of him had always been there, and she had chosen to ignore it. There were many people he didn’t have a kind word for, for various reasons, but it was the first time she had been on the receiving end of such a diatribe, and she didn’t like it. She pulled herself up on the sofa. “Please don’t speak to me like that. There’s no need to be so horrible about it. Whatever you think, you should be able to see I’m upset and I thought you of all people would give me some support. Your criticising me isn’t helping, it’s only making matters worse.”

  At least, Penny thought, Edward had the decency to look somewhat abashed at her comeback. “Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m not good at pussyfooting around, and say what I think, you know that. Come here.” He reached an arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards him. “Can we just forget I said anything?” Kissing her forehead, he added, “How about I promise not to tell you to pull yourself together and get a grip, and you find it in your heart to forgive me for putting my big foot in it?”

  Penny leaned into his embrace. His turn of phrase could at times be unfortunate, she supposed, but that was Edward. He said what was on his mind, with no regard for anyone’s feelings. At least he was true to himself. He had mastered the art of not caring what anyone else thought of him, something Penny often struggled with.

  “I’ve been thinking, we should talk properly,” she said, pulling back. She was careful to keep her tone even. “I thought we would have had the chance last night over dinner, but maybe we can have another try at clearing the air. I know things haven’t been going well between us lately, and I’m hoping we can fix that. I didn’t know how you felt about me helping the police before Christmas. If it bothered you so much, I wish you’d have said something sooner, rather than letting it fester.”

  “Would it have made any difference?”

  “Probably not,” Penny admitted.

  Edward paused, his face softening. “You’re right, we should talk it through. I was going to suggest I cook tonight, anyway. I realised after we spoke yesterday you always do the cooking, and that’s probably why you were annoyed. Am I right?”

  “Close.”

  “I even brought dinner with me,” Edward announced triumphantly. “Ta da!” He jumped up and lifted the plastic bag he had arrived with, which had been parked on the floor at his feet. “I’d better put these in the fridge. No peeking.”

  Through the thin plastic, Penny could make out the distinctive shape of the microwave meals Edward favoured when left to his own devices in the kitchen, and she hurriedly called after him. “That’s really kind of you, but don’t worry. I had prepared something for later we can both have.” She hadn’t, but knew she had the makings of something more nutritious than whatever was in the containers in the bag.

  Edward popped his head back through the archway. “If you insist. But let me do everything. I’ll even fry my own steak, how about that?”

  “I gave your steak to Fischer,” Penny said. The look on Edward’s face was worth the little white lie just for a second. Before he could answer, she began to laugh. “I was kidding, Edward,” she soothed. “Just a joke.”

  Fischer, yapping and jumping around on the sofa, took that as a cue to play, and Penny held out a toy for him to chew on. He had so many scattered around the place, there was always one within reach.

  Edward visibly relaxed. “Yes, of course. I knew that.” Something outside caught his eye, and he peered out the window. “What’s that idiot Monroe doing here? He’s coming up the garden path.”

  “I’ll get it,” Penny said, Edward’s displeasure evident. “Please, don’t cause a scene. He’s only doing his job, as you pointed out earlier.”

  “Hmmph.” He followed her into the hallway, although he hung back when she answered the door.

  “Hello, Inspector,” Penny said just as her legs were knocked sideways by Fischer bounding past and leaping up at Monroe. She stepped back, grinning. “I think Fischer’s glad to see you. Would you like to come in?”

  The Inspector shook his head. “I won’t, thanks. Just checking in as promised. Is everything all right?” Looking past her, he spotted Edward lurking in the hall. “Hello, Edward.”

  Edward replied with a grunt and disappeared back into the living room.

  “Everything’s fine, thanks.” Penny caught her breath. Monroe was freshly shaven, and wearing jeans and a jumper, a woolly scarf and a casual jacket. His grey eyes were fully focussed on her, laced with soft concern. “As you can see, Edward’s here,” she continued, “so you don’t need to worry.”

  A voice from behind her caused her to turn. Edward was pulling on his coat. “Sorry, Penny. I have to go back to the office. One of the partners just sent me a message, and he wants me to change something for the meeting tomorrow with HMRC. It’s a high-profile tax investigation, and if it doesn’t go well it could hurt my partnership prospects. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Penny shook her head. “Of course not. Will you be back later?” She remembered she had been going to ask him to check the van over but decided not to mention it. If she did, she had a feeling Monroe would step in, which would cause more tension with Edward. She was sure her father would be able to help instead.

  “Not sure,” Edward said, making his way out. “I’ll call you when I know.” He threw Monroe a gl
are on his way past him down the path.

  Monroe paused for a moment, then said, “I should probably go as well. You have my number, promise you’ll call if you need me?”

  “Yes, thank you. Fischer and I will be fine,” Penny said firmly. She eyed the golf club perched behind the door. There was no need to mention that. “Bye. And thanks again.”

  When both men had gone, she locked and chained the door. Lingering as she walked past the mirror, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She liked what Susie had done with it and hoped she would be able to recreate the look herself, even if Edward had failed to notice.

  “Well, it’s just us again, Fischer. Now, how would you like some pretend steak?”

  Nine

  Katy Lowry, who was jogging past the cottage as Penny was leaving for work the following morning, gave her a quizzical look. “Morning, Penny. I didn’t know you played golf.” She continued to jog up and down on the spot while Penny closed the gate.

  “This?” Penny said nonchalantly, as though carrying a golf club to work in a library was an everyday occurrence. She didn’t mention she had also slept with it beside her bed. Penny had tossed and turned, staring at the clock for most of the night, the slightest sound causing her to stir. A creak on the stairs? She had convinced herself it was someone coming to get her. The rattle of rain on the window pane? Surely, a would-be intruder trying to climb in. There was nothing like middle-of-the-night anxiety to ruin a good night’s sleep. PC Bolton calling before she went to bed had not helped matters, frightening her by bumping into the wheelie bin and causing a racket outside the cottage. “I don’t, it belongs to a friend. Long story. Actually, have you got minute, Katy? I wanted to ask you something.”

 

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