by L. A. Nisula
And I would not be eating anything with peas until I left the area. “So Mr. Reynolds wasn’t giving you an extra discount?”
“No, nothing beyond what I was getting from Mr. Hoyt, which I think was their standard for the area. They do give the local shops a better price than they give in, say, Yorkshire or London. Supporting the local economy themselves and all that. And I think they want to be sure everyplace around here stocks them. It would look a bit odd if they couldn’t sell in their own backyard, as it were.”
“So if someone told me they had seen paperwork saying you were given a discount?”
“Then they were mistaken or lying. I pay the standard rate in the area, same as the shops in Eybry and Upper Slaughter. In fact, I know Mr. Burton in Eybry, and we’ve had the same rate for years.”
So it wasn’t some long-standing arrangement that Mr. Burton hadn’t known about. Something had been wrong with the ledgers. The question was what. I managed a smile for Mr. Sundur. “Then that explains the confusion. Someone got the wrong end of things. Thank you for clearing it up.”
“Of course. You say you know the family? Then would you pass on my condolences to Mrs. Hoyt?”
“I will the next time I see her,” which probably wouldn’t be for ages, “but I think she would appreciate it if you sent a little something over.”
“Yes, I suppose a bit of something would go well. There’s some new Madeira cake that came in. She could feed it to anyone who calls on her. That might be the thing. Thank you, Miss...”
I ignored the implied desire for an introduction. “You’ve been most helpful. I won’t take up any more of your time.” I hurried for the door before I had to make up any other excuses for my presence.
Outside of the shop, I turned my steps towards the police station. Inspector Wainwright needed to know what I had just found out. It finally all made sense. Mrs. Hoyt had thought Mr. Hoyt’s extra money had come from her husband gambling or embezzling from the pub, but he was actually blackmailing Mr. Reynolds. He’d seen the discounts listed in the receipt books and had seen something Mr. Burton hadn’t, or something Mr. Burton hadn’t understood was wrong about them.
Mr. Reynolds must have been telling the main office he’d given Mr. Sundur a discount when he hadn’t, then pocketed the difference. I wondered how many places on his route he’d told the main office were getting discounts. One wouldn’t have been worth it, I wouldn’t think. So Mr. Hoyt would have started blackmailing him and either done something that pushed Mr. Reynolds over the edge or the pressure of it simply became too much and Mr. Reynolds murdered him. I wondered if he’d actually paid Mr. Burton out of his own pocket as he’d said, or if he’d simply wanted to throw me off. His own pocket, most likely, otherwise why hadn’t he simply added him to the discount list when he’d started asking about it?
Perhaps the main office had begun to get irritated at the number of discounts he’d told them he’d offered, and he didn’t want to trigger any sort of audit of his books. It would be worth giving Mr. Burton a bit out of his own pocket to keep him from asking too many questions. The money paid to Mr. Burton might even have been part of the money he had been paying to Mr. Hoyt; it had started after the murder, and that was when Mr. Reynolds would have been desperate to keep his motive secret. It must have seemed like a small price to pay to keep Mr. Burton quiet.
So why move the body? He’d been seen in town, but that was for his work, surely it wouldn’t have been any more suspicious than anyone else being there. Unless he wasn’t supposed to be there. I hadn’t asked Mr. Burton if he’d been expecting Mr. Reynolds. Perhaps he hadn’t been and the visit had merely been to create an alibi. Or perhaps he overdid it, just as he had with his lies about the staddle stones. If he knew the rumors about Mrs. Hoyt and Mr. Elliott, moving the body into his shop would have seemed like a good way to point suspicion somewhere else. And then everyone began panicking and moving the body all over Eybry and eventually to Oakwood Cottage.
“Miss Pengear, what a surprise.”
For a moment, I thought I’d been too deep in my thoughts and my mind was playing tricks on me. I held onto that hope for another moment, but I doubted my eyes were playing the same trick on me. “Mr. Reynolds. Hello.”
“When I called at Oakwood Cottage to find out how you were feeling after the memorial yesterday, Mrs. Albright said you’d gone into Eybry.”
Trust Mrs. Albright to know when not to tell people where I really was. I was quite certain Mr. Reynolds had absolutely no interest in my health. The only question was whether he’d known Mrs. Albright was lying to him and guessed where I was or had come here hoping he wouldn’t see me. “That was kind, but as I said, it was only stuffiness of the room.” I started walking again in the direction of the police station, hoping he would take the hint and go on about his business, particularly as I was moving away from Mr. Sundur’s shop.
But I had no such luck. “And what brings you to Stow-on-the-Wold?”
Saying I had been going to see Inspector Wainwright to tell him I’d just discovered Mr. Reynolds’s motive for killing Mr. Hoyt seemed like a particularly bad idea, even if it was the truth. “Since I’m in the Cotswolds, I thought I’d see as much of it as I could.”
“What a lovely idea. How did you get here?”
“Lord Hector drove me in.”
“And abandoned you, eh? Oh, you didn’t know? I saw him on the road as I came by.”
“Perhaps he was planning to come back for me. We were rather vague on the details. You know how he is.”
“Well, you must allow me to show you around. I do know the town well.”
I reminded myself that Mr. Reynolds couldn’t possibly know I’d just figured out what he’d done. He might want to keep me away from Mr. Sundur’s shop so I wouldn’t guess, and he couldn’t know I’d just been there. “It’s very kind of you, I’m sure, but I really wanted to do some shopping as I went, and Miss Hayworth gave me some ideas of where to go. Down at the other end of the high street, in fact.” There, he’d think I was planning to go in a direction away from Mr. Sundur’s and he’d be safe for another day at least. “Very nice to see you again, but I’m sure you have business in town, and I don’t want to keep you.” I started walking before he could protest.
“Nonsense. I’d be happy to show you around. Where were you heading?”
“A little shop Miss Hayworth told me about as we were going to the police station. It’s just around the corner.” If I was stuck with him, at least we could move in the direction of assistance, and perhaps he wouldn’t want to be seen too close to the station anyway.
“I don’t know what that could be.”
“Yarn. She highly recommended the yarn, and I was preparing to knit a sweater. Jumper, as you say. Fair Isle. Lots of colors to decide on.” That ought to scare him away. I started walking ever so slightly faster.
“Of course, I know just the place. And not far from where I’m going.”
I was quite sure that was a lie, but I could always say I wanted to stop in and ask Inspector Wainwright something about the crime scene in our sitting room. I ignored his offered arm but didn’t try arguing either. The last thing I wanted was to let him know I knew something.
We’d barely gone a block, with Mr. Reynolds pointing out things he thought would interest me and me making vaguely appreciative comments and trying to figure out how to get away from him when I heard my name called for the second time that hour. “Miss Pengear, what are you doing here?”
For once, I didn’t mind running into Inspector Wainwright at all. “Good morning, Inspector, Constable Edwards.”
Constable Edwards smiled at me. Inspector Wainwright snorted.
“Good morning, Inspector,” Mr. Reynolds said in the tone I assumed he used on potential customers. Really, it was a wonder the man managed to sell anything. “I was just taking Miss Pengear around to the shops, then back to Eybry as her ride seems to have abandoned her.”
I tried to communicate to Inspec
tor Wainwright that I most definitely did not agree with the plan, but he barely looked at me. Still, he must have noticed something as he said, “Well, she needs to come with me now,” and grabbed my arm.
Mr. Reynolds looked surprised at that turn of events. “I’m sure Miss Pengear has done nothing wrong.”
“I’m not. Come along, both of you.”
“Well, I’m supposed to...”
“Bring Miss Pengear to Eybry, yes, you told me. And as she is also coming with me, you can continue on when I’ve finished. Miss Pengear.” He kept his grip on my arm and practically dragged me down the street.
As Inspector Wainwright was pulling me along, I was able to glance back and see Constable Edwards lean in and say to Mr. Reynolds in a stage whisper, “Best go along when he’s in these moods. It’ll blow over.” He smiled and all but shoved Mr. Reynolds in our direction.
I stopped resisting and allowed Inspector Wainwright to steer me towards the station. “Everyone in town is going to think you’re arresting me.”
“Hmm.” Not that I’d expected him to care.
“It’s his order book you want. Mr. Hoyt had seen it in the pub. So had Mr. Burton, but he misunderstood. He thought Mr. Reynolds was giving the shop here a better discount and was arguing to get one until Mr. Reynolds took it out of his own cut to shut him up. But there was no discount. Mr. Hoyt understood that it was embezzlement, and no doubt started to blackmail him over it.”
Inspector Wainwright didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t tell me to be quiet, which told me he was at least thinking about what I had told him. I took that as encouragement and told him everything I had just figured out while Constable Edwards kept Mr. Reynolds walking along behind us while staying far enough back that we couldn’t be overheard.
Chapter 24
WHEN WE GOT TO THE POLICE STATION, Inspector Wainwright paused in the lobby to write something in the book at the reception desk while Constable Edwards brought Mr. Reynolds through to the office. I heard him tell Mr. Reynolds, “You’ll be more comfortable back here.” So they didn’t want him to know he was the one they were interested in. When the pair of them was out of sight, Inspector Wainwright put down the pen mid-word and followed them back without a word to me.
I knew that meant Inspector Wainwright was hoping I would leave now that I’d helped him catch the killer. I also knew he knew I wasn’t going anywhere until I’d heard how the case ended. I looked around the lobby for someplace to wait.
“So the inspector found him, then?” Constable Palmer asked as I sat on the hard bench by the reception desk, which seemed to be the only seating.
“Found him?”
“Mr. Reynolds. The inspector found him, did he?”
“He was looking for Mr. Reynolds?”
“He was planning to go to Eybry to question him, least that’s what he was telling Constable Taylor as I was coming in. But I’d seen Mr. Reynolds in town, doing his rounds I assume, so I let the inspector know before he went off on a wild goose chase. Seems he found him.”
“He did. Thank you.”
“Not sure why you’re... You were poking around, weren’t you? Constable Taylor said that was why the inspector was in such a foul mood. S’all right. I know he won’t want you spoiling his case, but I wouldn’t mind a summary when it’s all over.”
I waited quietly by the desk, trying not to disturb Constable Palmer until Constable Edwards came out from the offices alone. “Has he finished with Mr. Reynolds?”
Constable Edwards nodded. “For the moment, at least. He didn’t ask for any other witnesses.”
“I’m sure he just forgot.”
Constable Edwards nodded and left, a bit quickly I thought. I went around Constable Palmer’s desk and back towards the offices.
Inspector Wainwright was at his desk as I’d expected, with case notes spread out in front of him. He didn’t look up as I approached, but the little furrowing of his brow told me he knew I was there. I sat across from him and didn’t bother with pleasantries, knowing he’d consider them a waste of time. “Mr. Reynolds?”
“Being held on suspicion.”
“That’s not particularly specific.”
“Constable Edwards is going to Mr. Sundur’s shop to get his statement. If it matches what you’ve told me, he’ll continue on to the headquarters of Mrs. Quimby’s Quality Tinned Goods and see what their view of the matter is. If you’re correct, we can hold him on embezzlement and check his financial records.”
“Where you’ll find proof of blackmail, which will give you a motive for Mr. Hoyt’s murder. So all you have to do is wait for Constable Edwards to return.” Which seemed quite odd. Normally he would want to be in on the case, not leaving it to someone else. I tried hinting for a little more information. “It shouldn’t take him more than an hour or so.”
“During which, I will be going to Eybry to look for actual proof of his guilt.”
“Because motive isn’t enough to hold him for murder. I see. Have you been over Mr. Elliott’s shop?”
He didn’t answer, which told me he most likely had and hadn’t found anything helpful. Which meant he would be in a terrible mood and I wouldn’t get any information out of him. I couldn’t really blame him; looking for the murder scene had been a frustrating task when I’d been searching for it. I collected my handbag and gloves and stood up. He didn’t make any move to say good-bye, so I took that to mean he was relieved to be done speaking to me.
As I walked to the door, I went over every place I had already searched in case there was anything I hadn’t already told Inspector Wainwright that might be helpful, but I’d given him a very complete account. The problem had been how the body had gotten to Mr. Elliott’s. What had made the alley I’d found good for moving a body had also made getting the body there in the first place tricky. And as no one seemed to know where Mr. Reynolds or Mr. Hoyt had been that morning...
I stopped half-way to the door. “Mr. Simmons.”
Inspector Wainwright sighed. “Yes, why don’t you pay a call on Mr. Simmons. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. I’d try the pub in Eybry.”
I ignored his comment and went back to the chair across from him. “When I was trying to trace Mr. Hoyt’s morning, Mr. Elliott sent me to the churchyard, where I saw Mr. Simmons.”
“As he is the groundskeeper, I would think that was a normal occurrence, unless you were suggesting him for a suspect.”
“No, a witness. He was the one who told me he’d seen Mr. Reynolds in the churchyard that morning. That was why I went to talk to him in the first place. When I did question Mr. Reynolds, he immediately admitted to moving the body to Mulberry Cottage. He was the only one who admitted it at once. I thought it was because he thought he had an excellent excuse for doing it, but now I’m not sure. Everyone else tried to avoid telling me they’d been involved. Which is only natural, I suppose, but makes Mr. Reynolds’s reaction all the more interesting.”
“Perhaps he wanted to get rid of you,” Inspector Wainwright muttered.
“Precisely.” I could see I’d surprised him and gave him a moment to think about it before I went on. “What if he was admitting to moving the body to get rid of me? He must have thought that, if he told me exactly what he did when he moved the body to Mulberry Cottage, I wouldn’t have any reason to go back and question Mr. Simmons again, and then I wouldn’t find out when he’d seen Mr. Reynolds.”
“Simmons didn’t see Reynolds moving the body, or see Hoyt at all.”
“Exactly. I thought it was odd he hadn’t seen the body. He seems the sort to notice things. And it fits. Mr. Simmons told me he’d been at the church early trimming bushes, trying to get it done before the day got too hot. We know Mr. Elliott brought the body to the churchyard around noon, so Mr. Reynolds had to move him to Mulberry Cottage sometime after noon and before one when Miss Dyer and Miss Hayworth found him. Does that sound like the time you’d be trimming bushes if you wanted to avoid the heat?”
Inspect
or Wainwright didn’t say anything, which I took to mean he didn’t have any counter-arguments and was considering what I’d just told him.
And then something else struck me. “The wallet. I thought it was an odd place to find it. Not at all where Mr. Elliott should have been with the body. What if it did drop out of his pocket when he was being killed? That would mean I found it at the murder scene. It’s worth checking, at least.”
“Which would not be something an amateur ought to be attempting.” Inspector Wainwright got up and took his coat from the back of his chair. It seemed he was actually going to listen to me. The novelty of that had barely worn off when he added, “And as I am going to Eybry, I suppose I ought to offer.”
It took me a minute to catch on. “Are you offering me a ride to Eybry?”
“It seems to be the only way I can be certain you won’t stumble over another body now that this one might be settled.”
“Then I suppose I will accept your kind offer. I have no desire to stumble over any more bodies.”
It was a very quiet drive to Eybry from Stow-on-the-Wold. I wasn’t sure if Inspector Wainwright realized he’d told me he was going to look for clues, and I didn’t want to say anything that would let him know I’d noticed, at least not until it was too late.
I waited until we were approaching the last turning, just past Upper Slaughter, where he would have to choose whether to go to the cottage or the village to say, “You can just leave me in Eybry. No need to go all the way to the cottage. I have some shopping to do.”
“At Mr. Elliott’s, no doubt.”
I was not at all surprised that he knew my real motive, but I was surprised he’d all but told me where he was going to start investigating. “I still haven’t tried his sandwiches.”
Inspector Wainwright snorted at that, but he turned towards Eybry without comment.
