“Constable Parsons, this is a surprise,” Janet said to the young man on the doorstep.
They’d met the town’s only policeman before they’d even purchased the house, after an altercation with the previous owner’s son. Although he was only in his mid-twenties, Robert Parsons was responsible for policing both Doveby Dale and neighbouring Little Burton. As nothing much happened in either small town, he usually managed the job easily. Today his brown hair looked in need of a cut and his brown eyes looked tired. He was, as always when Janet had seen him, neatly dressed in ordinary clothes rather than a police uniform.
“Can I come in for just a minute?” he asked politely.
“Of course you can,” Janet said. “Would you like some tea and a biscuit?” she added as she showed him into the sitting room.
“I’m afraid I haven’t much time,” the man replied, looking disappointed.
“What can we do for you, then?” Joan asked from the doorway.
“I just wanted to warn you that we’ve had a report of a possible fugitive in the area,” he told them.
“What sort of fugitive?” Janet asked. “Are we in great danger?”
“I don’t think so,” was the vague reply. “The man in question is called Peter Smith, but that won’t be the name he’s using. He’s a con artist who was in prison in London, but, through a series of unusual circumstances, managed to escape or get let out. I’m not clear on the details and that’s all still being investigated at that end. Anyway, he’s known to have ties in the Derbyshire area, so we’ve all been put on alert. It seems unlikely that he’ll come here, but anything is possible. As you run a small guesthouse, even if you aren’t taking guests at the moment, I wanted to let you know. It’s just possible he might turn up here looking for a place to stay.”
“Do you have a photograph?” Joan asked.
“I have several, but I don’t know that they’ll do you much good,” Robert told them. He reached into his coat, pulled out a small envelope, and handed it to Joan.
She flipped through the contents. “But these are all different men,” she protested. “Which one is the man you’re looking for?”
“That’s the problem,” Robert told her. “They’re all the same man. He’s excellent at disguising his appearance.”
Janet looked through the photos herself. Joan was right; they looked like several different men. At the same time, there was nothing particularly noticeable about any of them. They all looked like average men of around sixty.
“We have a guest right now,” Joan told Robert. “He arrived yesterday.”
“I’m sure Edward isn’t an escaped fugitive,” Janet said hastily. “He’s an old friend of Maggie’s after all.”
The policeman frowned. “I don’t know enough about the missing man to be certain. Tell me about your guest, please.”
Janet wasn’t happy to sit there and listen as Joan told Robert everything they knew about Edward Bennett. It wasn’t as if she even liked the man, she reminded herself, it just seemed unfair to be suggesting to the police that he might be a criminal. As Joan talked, Janet had a sudden thought. Once Joan was finished, Janet jumped in.
“Michael, across the road, had a guest turn up unexpectedly today,” she told Robert. While Joan frowned at her, Janet told the policeman the little that she knew about Leonard Simmons.
“If any other men around that age suddenly turn up, please let me know,” Robert told them as he rose to his feet. “I’m going to stop over at Mr. Donaldson’s house and see if I can have a quick word with Mr. Simmons.”
“They were going into Derby,” Janet told him. “I doubt anyone is home.”
“Well, thank you for your help,” he said. “I’ll keep you informed if we find the man.”
Joan walked Robert to the door, letting him out and then carefully locking the door behind him.
“I can’t believe you told the police that Michael might be harbouring a fugitive,” Joan said angrily when she returned to the sitting room.
“You told him we might be harbouring a fugitive,” Janet shot back. “I’m sure Edward isn’t anything of the kind.”
“Considering you spent most of yesterday insisting you didn’t like the man, you suddenly seem very cosy with Mr. Bennett,” Joan said.
“He’s growing on me,” Janet admitted. “Anyway, he’s an old friend of Maggie Appleton’s. He can’t be a criminal.”
“We don’t know what sort of friends Mrs. Appleton had,” Joan countered.
Janet thought about the lascivious letters that were still in the bottom desk drawer in the library. The sisters knew that Mrs. Appleton had had several husbands over the years. Was it possible that she was also involved with criminals?
“I’d like to see a picture of her,” Janet said, as the thought crossed her mind again.
“Of Maggie Appleton?” Joan asked.
“Yeah, I wonder what she looked like?”
“What difference does it make?”
“I’m just curious,” Janet replied.
“And you want to know what Edward saw in her,” Joan said, as if the idea just hit her.
“Not at all,” Janet replied, looking out the window towards the garden.
“Perhaps Stuart has some old photos,” Joan suggested, presumably seeing the same thing Janet had through the sitting room window.
Stuart was on his way into their garden again.
“I think I’ll go and ask him,” she told Joan, heading towards the conservatory.
Chapter Five
“How are you?” Janet greeted their neighbour when she found him in the very back corner of the large garden.
Stuart smiled at her. “I’m well,” he replied. “I saw some weeds coming through back here and I figured I’d better tackle them before they got out of hand.”
Janet looked at the rolling expanse of grass. “It looks just about perfect to me,” she told the man.
He dropped to his knees and pointed to something. “See? This shouldn’t be here. If it’s left to grow on its own, it will soon take over.”
Janet leaned down and studied the area he was pointing to. All she could see was grass. “I see,” she said after a moment. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here to keep track of such things, then.”
“Did you need something else doing?” Stuart asked, sitting back on his heels.
“I just had a quick question,” Janet replied. “We were talking about Maggie Appleton and I realised that I’ve no idea what she looked like. Do you have any photos of her?”
“Maggie didn’t like having her picture taken,” Stuart said. “We don’t take a lot of photos ourselves, Mary and I, but we had the camera out one day when the grandchildren were due for a visit and I tried to get Maggie to pose with Mary. She very politely refused.”
“So in all the years she lived here, you never got a single photo of her?” Janet asked, disappointed.
“As I said, we don’t take a lot of photos, and once I knew Maggie didn’t like having her picture taken, I never tried again. You should ask your guest. If anyone has pictures of Maggie, it would be him.”
“Edward? Why?”
“He and Maggie were a couple, weren’t they? He used to visit pretty regularly, that’s for sure. They used to go sightseeing together and all sorts. You should ask him.”
Janet nodded slowly, her mind racing. Edward was the last person she wanted to ask about Maggie Appleton.
“Was there anything else?” Stuart asked, glancing at his watch. “I really need to get some weed killer mixed up and applied, and I promised Mary I’d only be a few minutes.”
“No, sorry, that was all,” Janet told him. “Sorry to interrupt your work.”
She headed back inside feeling dissatisfied. Perhaps she needed to go through the rest of Maggie’s old paperwork. She hadn’t noticed any photos in the boxes, but there could be some somewhere. Joan was eager to get away to do some grocery shopping at the large store outside Doveby Dale, which left Janet alone
in the house.
Unable to think of anything better to do, and not wanting to think about her dinner plans, Janet settled into a comfortable chair in the sitting room with one of Maggie’s boxes of papers and a pile of file folders. She sorted out piles of old bills, receipts and the odd note from a happy (or not so happy) former guest at Doveby House.
By six o’clock she was feeling fed up and bored, but she’d managed to empty the box. She was just tidying everything neatly away when Edward let himself in the front door.
“That seems like a lot of paperwork,” Edward said cheerfully.
“We found several boxes of papers in various places when we bought the house,” Janet explained. “We’re taking our time, sorting through them all.”
“Maggie’s papers?” the man asked.
Janet frowned, wishing she’d done the sorting in her room instead. “Yes,” she replied. “But they’re nothing exciting.” She suddenly recalled the letters that were locked up in the library. Those were considerably more exciting, but she was even more reluctant to go through them than she was to sort out the bills and things.
“If you’d like a hand, I’d be happy to sort through a box or two for you,” Edward said.
His tone was casual, but Janet couldn’t help but feel like he was really interested in getting his hands on the boxes.
“That’s very kind of you,” she replied, getting up from her seat and dropping the file folders into the now empty box. “But Joan and I are getting through them. We’re hoping they might help us with getting the business going again, so we’re being very careful as we sort.”
“Very sensible, I’m sure. Have you found anything interesting so far?”
Janet shook her head. “Not unless you consider old utility bills interesting,” she replied. “Although Joan certainly does. She’s trying to work out what our bills will be like, especially in the winter months when we’ll have this big house to heat.”
“I suppose I can see Joan’s point, but no, I don’t find old utility bills the least bit interesting. And that’s all you’ve found?”
“That’s all, aside from a few notes from former guests,” she told him, watching him closely. His face didn’t give anything away, but Janet still thought he seemed disappointed.
“Well, I’d better go and get ready for dinner,” he said after a moment. “I have a hot date.”
“Lucky you,” Janet retorted.
Edward winked at her. “You’ll be ready by half six, won’t you?” he checked.
“Of course.” Janet glanced at the clock and frowned. It was later than she’d realised.
“Can I carry that box somewhere for you?” Edward asked now, as Janet lifted the box filled with the sorted paperwork.
“You go and get ready,” she replied. “It’s fine.” She waited until she heard his footsteps on the stairs before she headed to Joan’s suite. With a guest in the house, they had moved the boxes into Joan’s small sitting room, but Janet didn’t want Edward to know that. She put the box back with the others and then rushed upstairs to get ready for dinner, pausing just long enough to make absolutely certain that the door to Joan’s suite was locked behind her.
“I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time,” she told her reflection. The face in the mirror didn’t look convinced. Janet added a bit of makeup and then shrugged. She didn’t even like the man; there was no point in fussing with her appearance. Still, it was a date, the first she’d had in many years. She added a quick coat of lipstick and decided that was enough.
“Janet’s always late for dates,” Joan’s voice carried down the corridor as Janet approached the sitting room. “When we were younger and she was going out every night, I swear I spent more time entertaining her dates than she did.”
Janet heard Edward chuckle. “I hope she isn’t too late,” he replied. “I’ve made a booking at my favourite local restaurant.”
“I’m not late,” Janet said from the doorway, ignoring the clock on the wall that suggested she was, in fact, about five minutes behind schedule.
“And you look lovely,” Edward said, getting to his feet. “Shall we?”
Janet took the arm he offered and then made a face at her sister behind his back. Joan shook her head and Janet knew she was wondering when her younger sister might actually grow up. As far as Janet was concerned, she was as grown up as she needed to be.
Edward escorted her to his car, a nearly new saloon car that Janet recognised as a luxury model. She settled in her seat and then Edward shut her door.
“This is very nice,” Janet said once Edward was behind the driver’s seat.
“I like cars,” he replied. He glanced over at her and then grinned. “I won’t bore you with any details, but I’ve always tried to buy the best car I could afford. When I was younger, I drove fast sporty cars, but now I find I prefer comfort and performance instead.”
“I just like to get from place to place,” Janet replied. “We’ve been buying pretty much the same car every four or five years since we bought our first car.”
Edward laughed. “That’s one way to do it.”
“It works for us,” Janet told him.
The drive to the restaurant wasn’t a long one, but by the time they arrived, Janet was rethinking their commitment to the manufacturer of their current car. Edward’s car purred along quietly, absorbing the bumps in the road and leaving her feeling almost as if she’d floated all the way there.
“What does a car like this cost?” she asked as Edward helped her from the incredibly comfortable leather seat.
The number Edward gave her made her laugh and then shake her head. So much for that little fantasy. She and Joan would never be able to afford a car like his.
The restaurant was a small French one that Janet had passed more than once but had never been inside. It was dimly lit and looked expensive, where Janet and Joan tended to look for bright and cheerfully economical on the odd occasion when they ate away from home.
The host greeted them warmly. “Ah, Mr. Bennett, it’s such a pleasure to see you again. And with such a lovely companion this evening.”
He showed them to a quiet table in the back corner of the restaurant and left them with the gorgeously handwritten menus.
Janet scanned the menu quickly. The entire menu was written in French. Besides that, there were no prices on it, and that worried her. She felt completely overwhelmed by the entire place and the man sitting opposite her. She found she was suddenly wishing that Joan would call and interrupt things before they went any further.
“Do you need any help with translating the selections?” Edward asked.
Janet felt a flash of temper and reminded herself that she didn’t like the man. She took a deep breath and smiled sweetly at him. “I think I’m okay,” she said softly.
When the waiter arrived he and Edward had a lengthy conversation about wine without including Janet. She bit her tongue, as she didn’t particularly care what wine they had with dinner. She wasn’t planning on drinking much.
The man returned with the bottle Edward had selected and went through the ritual of having Edward taste his choice. Janet ignored the whole thing. When the waiter then asked if they were ready to order, Janet put her menu down.
“Are there any specials today?” she asked in perfectly accented French.
The man smiled and read off the list of specials from a card. Janet asked several questions about how certain dishes were prepared and about the various accompaniments, carrying on the entire conversation in French, before she ordered. Edward added his choices to the order, his own French accent almost as good as Janet’s, and then handed their menus to the waiter who bowed before he walked away.
“I’m an idiot,” Edward said in a conversational tone as Janet took a sip of wine. “I don’t blame you for thinking that I am.”
“Not at all,” Janet replied with a shrug.
Edward chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to speak French, let alone speak it so very well. I susp
ect you’re going to continue to surprise me.”
“I’m a very ordinary retired primary schoolteacher,” Janet told him. “There’s nothing surprising or even interesting about me.”
“So where did you learn to speak French so beautifully?”
“When we were much younger, Joan and I spent a few years teaching English in a small French village,” Janet explained. “And I taught French at our village primary school for many years as well.”
“I underestimated you and I’m sorry,” Edward said. “I like to think of myself as rather old-fashioned, but that doesn’t excuse me acting like we’re still living in the nineteen-fifties when it comes to how I treat people.”
“So what is it you do that lets you buy fancy cars?” Janet asked, changing the subject.
“I work in imports and exports,” Edward answered vaguely. “Although I’m mostly retired now.”
“How does ‘mostly retired’ work?” Janet had to ask.
“I guess I should say that I’m supposed to be retired,” Edward replied with a smile, “but I get called every now and then to deal with various little things.”
“And you were good friends with Maggie Appleton?” Janet asked.
“We knew each other for a long time,” Edward said, not really answering the question. “But I travel a lot. I spent the last year in America,” he added in an exaggerated American accent. “I guess that’s how I missed hearing that she’d passed away.”
“I don’t suppose you have any photos of her,” Janet said, trying to sound uninterested.
“I doubt it,” Edward replied. “Maggie didn’t like having her picture taken. In fact….”
He was interrupted by the arrival of their starters and for the next hour and a half Janet found herself forgetting all about Maggie Appleton as she enjoyed the delicious meal. She drank well over half of the bottle of wine, as well.
“I’m driving,” Edward reminded her when she pointed out that he wasn’t drinking his fair share.
The food was fabulous and Edward spent the meal telling her many stories about his travels over the years. He switched accents along with locations and Janet found herself laughing frequently as he talked of strange wildlife encounters in Australia, odd people encounters in the US, and freak weather happenings in Canada.
The Bennett Case (A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 4
