Lois Meade 14 - Suspicion at Seven

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Lois Meade 14 - Suspicion at Seven Page 5

by Ann Purser


  “Goodness! So what happened. I’ve never heard a whiff of scandal from Aurora.”

  Dot raised her eyebrows. “Well, you wouldn’t, would you. It was all hushed up. He paid a whopping fine, and no more was said. Except that he got the push from the chiropodist. Natch.”

  Lois thanked Dot, passed on a compliment from a satisfied housewife who had found Dot extremely satisfactory, and waved her off to her next client.

  * * *

  When Lois and Gran arrived outside the bakery, Lois repeated the warning to her smiling mother. Aurora saw them coming, and was at the door to welcome them. “Hi, Lois! Lovely to see you, Mrs. Weedon,” she said. “Come on in. Most of my customers have been today, so why don’t I put on the kettle and we’ll have a cuppa and one of these muffins, fresh from the oven.”

  “Very nice,” said Gran, beaming. “That’s a very kind thought, Mrs. Black.”

  “Oh, do call me Aurora, please.”

  Off to a good start, thought Lois. “I can take over if you have to see to a customer,” she said.

  Gran immediately tackled the subject of selling jewellery, exactly as Lois had expected. “How long has your husband been in the jewellery business?” Gran asked, balancing a plate with muffin on her lap. “He certainly seems to know all about it.”

  “Oh, well, about three years, I suppose. He was in chiropody before that.”

  “Got fed up with handling people’s feet, I expect,” Gran said knowledgeably.

  Aurora laughed. “He didn’t actually do the treatments, Mrs. Weedon. He was more on the bookkeeping side. He’s not properly qualified to practise, though he’d sometimes help out if his boss was overworked. He massages my feet sometimes, and it is really relaxing.”

  “That’s what you need, Lois,” said Gran. “When you’ve been running around all day. Does he take private patients? Go on, Lois, I’ll treat you.”

  Lois said she’d think about it, but could they talk about something else? Smelly feet were putting her off her muffin. Aurora agreed, and said she would ask Donald but expected him to refuse, as he was not qualified.

  “Right, Lois,” said Gran. “Am I allowed to ask about the parties and the sellers, and how the whole thing works? Without personally committing myself, of course. I am only curious, Aurora, as everybody had such a great time.”

  “And the customers are also the winners, of course,” said Aurora.

  “How d’you mean?” asked Gran.

  “Well, people who buy are encouraged to become members and hold a party themselves. It is all legal and aboveboard.”

  “And is part of the deal that they then have to get friends to hold parties in their turn?” Lois kept her voice light.

  At that moment, the door opened, and Donald walked in. He made a little bow to Gran and took her hand. “Delighted to meet you, Mrs. Weedon,” he said. “And Lois, how are you keeping? I owe you a little apology for my bad temper on the phone. I had a really severe headache, but that’s no excuse. Is there another cup in the pot, Aurora?”

  He sat down next to Gran, and asked if she had enjoyed the party. She was about to answer when the shop doorbell rang.

  Aurora was pouring tea, and asked Lois if she would mind holding on to the customer until she had finished. “Donald likes it exactly right,” she said.

  Lois walked through to the shop, where she found Inspector Cowgill eyeing the cakes.

  “Cowgill! Are you following me about?”

  “Of course I’m not,” he said. “I always collect my bread from Mrs. Black on a Tuesday. Is she around, or are you adding shopkeeper to your many skills?”

  “She’s coming in a second. I’ve brought Mum over, for a little drive out.”

  “And you just happened to end up in Brigham? Don’t worry, Lois, my dear. I won’t tread on your toes. That’s my wholemeal loaf, over there on the shelf. Always the same place. And here’s the money. Good luck, my dear. I’ll be in touch.”

  He took his bread and was out of the shop in seconds, before Aurora came in to take over.

  “Oh yes,” she said. “Inspector Cowgill always comes in about this time. Nice man, isn’t he? His wife died, you know. But it was a long time ago. He should find another nice woman to take care of him. Sometimes he looks very sad.”

  “Mm, well, it’s a funny old job, isn’t it?” said Lois. “The police are always seeing the wrong side of mankind. It can’t be much fun. Anyway, thanks for the tea and being nice to Mum. You won’t let her do anything silly, will you, Aurora? She seemed to be much too involved with the subject when talking to Donald.”

  When they went back to join Gran and Donald, they found them still deep in conversation about percentages and investments.

  “Your mother, Lois, has a very good business head on her shoulders. I expect it is where you get yours from!” Donald helped Gran to her feet, though she did not need it, and escorted them to the car.

  “See you soon, both of you, I hope,” he said. “My daughter is coming from London to see us soon, so we must meet,” he said, and stood with Aurora to wave them goodbye.

  * * *

  Derek was still out at work when they reached home, and Gran set about preparing supper. “Fishcakes and beans tonight,” she said. “And fruit for pudding. I’m off to whist with Joan. In the village hall. Why don’t you come, Lois?”

  “Because I hate whist,” said Lois. “As I have said many times. You go and enjoy yourself, Mother dear. I shall have a nice time watching telly with my husband. Just we two. We might even have a cup of hot chocolate with cream in it. Ah, there’s Derek. You can tell him about your heart-to-heart with Donald Black.”

  “What’s that about Donald Black?” said Derek, coming into the kitchen. “Not my favourite person, as you know. I hope you haven’t invited him to supper, Elsie!”

  “And if I have?” said Gran defensively. “I’m allowed to have my own friends, aren’t I?”

  Neither Lois nor Derek answered, and Lois departed with Jeems into the garden, while Derek fled upstairs to wash his hands.

  THIRTEEN

  Wednesday was market day in Tresham, and Lois went in every week to shop from the local stalls, including butchers, fishmongers (fresh fish, though they couldn’t be farther from the sea), and homegrown vegetables. There were also several stalls selling home-baked goodies, and the fragrance of homegrown herbs alone made them impossible to resist.

  If she arrived home with her bags full, she knew Derek and Gran would both be offended. He had a productive vegetable garden, and Gran prided herself on her baking. “I like to have a change, that’s all,” she usually protested. Today, she bought only veg and fruit not grown by Derek, and coconut biscuits not made by Gran.

  “Anything for a peaceful life,” she muttered, and then turned round swiftly as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “Morning, Mrs. Meade,” said Cowgill, smiling sweetly at her.

  “Don’t do that!” she said. “Heavy hand of the law, an’ all that. Are you shopping too?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Well, don’t let me keep you.”

  “I’ve done it all, anyway. Fancy a coffee?”

  Lois hesitated. Cowgill might have some further information on Donald Black.

  “Okay, then. But it’ll have to be a quick one. Gran puts lunch on the table at one o’clock precisely, whether there’s anyone there to eat it or not.”

  Lois chose a table in the corner of the café, and sat with her back to the door. Well trained by Cowgill, she did not want to obstruct his view of the marketplace. His eyes flicked from corner to corner while they had coffee, and he seemed distracted when Lois asked him about Donald Black.

  “Oh, he’s a charlatan, Lois. Nothing serious, as far as we know, but we keep an eye on his jewellery parties. Those things can end up bankrupting perfectly innocent people.”

 
“Such as Gran?”

  He snapped instantly to attention. “Gran, did you say? Good heavens, I hope she hasn’t been taken in by his pretty ways!”

  “She’s pretending not to have been, but I know my mum. She gets an idea into her head, and won’t let it rest until she’s cracked it.”

  “Just like someone else I know. But you must not let her get involved, Lois. She is exactly the sort of intelligent person who thinks she can back out whenever she chooses, and then finds that she can’t.”

  “It’s all very well to say that. You should try changing my mum’s mind when she’s decided on something. And she’s very touchy about the family interfering with her savings. Says she’s earned every penny and intends to spend it her way.”

  Cowgill could see that his Lois was really worried, and reached across the small table to take her hand. Lois immediately withdrew it, and said what would people think if they saw them sitting hand in hand in a public place?

  His laughter caused heads to turn, and he shook his head. “My dear Lois,” he said, “what can I say? I will certainly keep an eye on Black for you, but if I were you I would enlist the help of Aurora. She works closely with him running the bakery, and can sound the alarm if Gran is getting in too deep.”

  “What do you know about his past?”

  “Only that he had a job with the local chiropodist, who terminated his contract after trouble with the tax inspector. Nothing came of it, and then he began publicising his jewellery parties. He knows the law, and skates pretty close to it, but so far, so good. If you do find any connection between him and the Fountain case, I’d be glad to hear from you.”

  Lois drained her coffee cup and said that she must be on her way. “Good hunting, Cowgill. Nothing but good news from my daughter and your nephew. Josie seems in good spirits, and the two of them are off on holiday next week. I must say they are welcome to the crowds. It’s school holidays, and Marbella would not be my choice.”

  He rose to his feet, but after she had gone, he ordered another coffee and sat down to think. It was certainly surprising that Gran Weedon had been so taken in by the golden-voiced Black. He would have said she was proof against any erosion of her savings. Perhaps she was genuinely interested in knowing how the scheme worked, and would see off Black in her characteristically forthright way.

  FOURTEEN

  “I’m glad to see you haven’t wasted our housekeeping money on fripperies, anyway,” said Gran, after she had examined Lois’s purchases.

  They had decided long ago that they would have a joint housekeeping account, where each would make a one-third contribution each week. It worked reasonably well, and Lois kept a separate wallet with her own money in case she spotted something Gran would disapprove of.

  Sometimes, Lois would feel like a child at the mercies of her mother’s wrath. But most of the time she maintained a tactful silence to keep the peace. Now she felt virtuous, and on reflection realised how ridiculous the whole thing had become. Still, as they sat down to lunch, Gran’s mind was on other things.

  “What are we doing this coming weekend?” she asked. “It’s the County Agricultural Show in Waltonby, and Joan and I thought we might go. We can catch a bus at two, and another to come home around five. It’ll give us time to look around the stalls, and see what’s going on in the show rings. Joan loves the horses, and I favour the cattle. Especially the great bulls! You wouldn’t happen to be going, either of you? Then we could have a lift.”

  “Don’t think so, Gran,” said Derek. “I shall have to work on Saturday to get a job finished. How about you, Lois? You three could be girls together?” Joan was Gran’s best friend and lived just around the corner from Meade House. Lois approved this friendship warmly, as Joan was brilliant at keeping Gran from some of her more serious excesses for brightening their lives. The show might take Gran’s mind off jewellery, with any luck.

  “Thanks and no thanks! I really don’t know, Mum, but if I do go, I’ll certainly give you and Joan a lift.”

  Lois was immediately suspicious. Gran usually steered clear of the big shows, saying her old feet were too tired to be tramping round fields.

  “Has Josie got any programmes of events and exhibitors in the shop? She does sometimes sell them in advance, so you don’t have to wait in a queue at the gate. I’ll pop down this afternoon and see. Anything you want, Mum?”

  “I should have thought you’d done enough shopping for one day! Still, if you’re going, we could do with more milk.”

  * * *

  The shop was busy when Lois arrived, mostly due to a gaggle of women who had the local paper in their hands. Lois could see the front page with a banner headline, POLICE BAFFLED BY FOUNTAIN CASE.

  “The cops don’t have far to look!” said one.

  At this point, Josie said in the nicest possible way that if the ladies had no more shopping to do, perhaps they could carry on talking outside. Looking huffy, they reluctantly stepped outside the shop and dispersed.

  “Hi, Mum, I’ve kept the local for you. As you saw, it’s a popular newspaper today! Have you come to shop or chat?”

  “Both,” said Lois. “Milk for Gran, and I was wondering if you have any programmes for the County Agricultural Show on Saturday?”

  Like a conjurer, Josie delved behind a pile of chocolate bars and came up with a handful of programmes.

  “Compliments of the shop,” she said, handing one to Lois.

  “No, for heaven’s sake, Josie. It’s ten pounds to go in if you pay at the gate.”

  “Only five pounds at this shop,” Josie said.

  “How much of that goes to you, then?”

  “Half. Two pounds fifty. The charge at the gate includes parking round the rings. Anyway, why so interested in the show?”

  Lois put a five pound note on the counter, and took a programme.

  “It’s a good day out, usually. Are you going? Is Matthew on duty there?”

  Josie shook her head. “I’m here until four. Matthew may go, but off duty.”

  * * *

  Back home, Lois went straight to her office and opened the programme. She flipped through lists of agricultural-machinery manufacturers and clothing for the countryman and -woman, and came to a section for the craft marquee. Albrights Liquor Store, followed by Brigham Bakery—that would be Aurora—and then, yes, there it was, “Brighten Up for Summer with Brigham Luxury Jewellery.”

  So, was this the reason Mum was so keen to go?

  Lois had planned to work all day in her office, updating her accounts, but now decided the best way to find out would be to offer Joan and Mum a lift, and then keep an eye on them.

  FIFTEEN

  The rest of the week, Lois had spent working on her accounts, until she threw up her hands in despair and put all her invoices and receipts in an old attaché case and dumped it on a friendly Tresham accountant’s desk.

  Derek said he didn’t know why she didn’t save herself all that frustration and time, and take it to him in the first place. She replied that she used to be good at maths at school, but that was not apparently enough. Every year the whole horrible subject of tax returns became more complicated.

  Derek replied that her consequent bad temper lasted at least a couple of weeks, and he offered to pay the accountant’s fees if that would solve the problem.

  Now it was Saturday, and the County Agricultural Show day. The village had been woken by a head-to-tail queue of moving cars, horse boxes and vast trailers carrying machinery as high as the bedroom windows.

  “Shall we go up this morning instead of afternoon?” Lois said. “I would say most of the interesting things happen in the morning.”

  Gran shook her head. “No, Lois. Joan has to go to the hairdresser’s this morning. We’ll go at two as planned.”

  Lois’s suspicions were growing. When they drove into the show ground, and parked some
way from the rings, Gran said she and Joan would go off by themselves, as she didn’t want an argument with Lois about what they should look at. They would meet in the refreshment tent at four. Would that suit?

  There was no reason to disagree, so Lois loitered round the first few stalls, until she could no longer be seen by Gran, then began to follow at a distance. She looked at the map of the show ground, and saw that the craft marquee was directly opposite the entrance gate. Taking her time, she sauntered past grain traders and the National Farmers Union tent, where members were quaffing free drinks. It was hot and crowded, visitors making the most of the spring weather, and the ice cream van was doing good business. Small girls and their mothers kitted out for pony classes picnicked on the grass by their horse boxes.

  A former client called out to Lois to join them on their seats at the ringside. “Haven’t seen you for ages, Mrs. Meade!”

  Lois shouted thanks, but sauntered on. She approached the craft marquee cautiously, deliberately turning her face away as she entered. Standing behind a crowd at the home-brewing stall, she glanced quickly around. Her heart lurched, as she saw the big sign advertising Brigham Luxury Jewellery. Busy talking from behind the display was Gran, her face flushed and excited. Behind her, Joan was wrapping up a purchase. Neither of them saw her, and she slipped away, walking rapidly to sit on a straw bale at the ringside to consider what she should do next.

  SIXTEEN

  “Did you have a good time, girls?” said Derek, as they sat down to a sandwich supper. “There’s still show traffic going through the village. The trailers and horse boxes hold them up, going slowly. You’d think they’d reroute them.”

  “I reckon it was the biggest show so far,” said Gran. “Me and Joan won a bottle of wine on the lottery, and lost money on the lucky dip. I thought the craft marquee was rubbish this year. What did you think, Lois? We didn’t see you.”

 

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