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Lois Meade 14 - Suspicion at Seven

Page 10

by Ann Purser


  “Certainly not. I need no extra stimulant when there’s a chance I might see my favourite sleuth around the market. You usually come here on Saturdays. But where’s your mother? Mrs. Weedon gets a lift in most weeks, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes, she does, and thereby hangs a tale. This week she came in with me as usual, and instead of us going around the market together, she told me some trumped-up story about visiting a friend on the Mounts, and disappeared before I could argue.”

  “No wonder you are a little tetchy, my dear,” he said. “But I am sure she will be fine. After all, she lived in Tresham for many years. Since her birth, I believe? She’s bound to know her way around.”

  “I know, but she’s never bothered about these mythical friends before. She and that Joan friend of hers are up to no good. Not your sort of no good, of course. But they’ve been hooked by the idea of pyramid selling of some sort, and they are a real gullible pair!”

  “What? Your mother gullible? I would not agree with that, Lois dear. Anyway, now you’ve told me, I’ll bear it in mind and keep an eye on things. Now, how about a drink with me in our usual café?”

  Lois sighed. “Go on, then,” she said. “I’ll tell you what I know so far. Mum’s getting the midday bus back. She insisted, so it means I shan’t see her until about half past twelve.”

  “I am sure she will return full of news from her old friends.”

  “As long as she returns, I don’t care what she tells us. If she and Joan are really going ahead with their plan, I mean to check on her every move. I know that the Brigham jewellery is basically rubbish, but the word might well get round that the two old ducks are pottering about with bags full of jewels and money. You know what villages are like!”

  “You may be right, Lois. Would you like me to have a word with your mother? Now I am family, however remotely, she might listen to me.”

  “Not at the moment, thanks. I’m hoping to see Aurora Black this afternoon. I mean to go over to the bakery and see if she has anything to report on Mum and Joan.”

  They finished their coffee and walked out into the market. Everything looked bright and normal, and Cowgill disappeared to return to the station. Lois wandered round, her mind not really on her shopping list. Then she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her arm.

  “Here I am,” said Gran. “I hoped I’d catch you, and there’d be no need for me to catch the bus.”

  “But what about your f-f-friends?” stammered Lois.

  “The one I wanted to see wasn’t there, so I’ll go back another time. Probably best to ring first.”

  Feeling ridiculously relieved, Lois took hold of her mother’s arm and said she wanted to show her a pair of slippers that she might like as an unbirthday present. Gran, astonished by this, said she would have to go missing more often. The slippers were approved and stashed away in a bag, and mother and daughter returned to the car and set off back to Long Farnden.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Lunchtime came, and as Derek, Lois and Gran sat down to eat, a shadow passed by the window and Josie appeared at the door.

  “Guess what?” she said.

  “What?” chorused Derek and Lois.

  “We have a new shop assistant. Matthew, my off-duty policeman husband, suggested he take over for an hour to allow me to visit my aged relatives in Meade House.”

  Derek laughed. “You’re pulling our legs,” he said. “You’ve got Floss in, to give you a break.”

  “No, honest, it is true. He offered. God knows whether he is capable, but I thought at least if he had cheeky chappies or belligerent customers to deal with, he would know exactly what to do. Worth a try, don’t you think, Mum?”

  “I don’t see why not,” said Lois. “Sit down over there, and have a sausage or three. Veg in that dish. Derek, pass her the mustard. Plenty of everything, thanks to your Gran.”

  “Any news, Mum, on the dreadful mill-wheel murder? And before you correct me, I know there’s no proof that it was murder, but every customer in the shop is convinced it was. The general consensus is that Donald Black had made enemies way back. He’s had a number of different enterprises, apparently, and not all squeaky clean.”

  “Perhaps you’d like me to ask Aurora. I am going to see her this afternoon, and I could question her about her late husband’s squeaky-clean ventures.” Her voice was ice-cold, and Josie frowned.

  “Don’t take it seriously, Mum. You know it’s only gossip in the village shop. That’s what most people come in for! And, as you know, I keep quiet and listen. It wouldn’t do for me to take sides.”

  “Why don’t we change the subject?” said Derek. “I’m fed up with hearing tittle-tattle. The strangled woman is nothing to do with us, and the police will know if there was a link with the jewellery bloke. End of story. Now, tell us, Josie, how you’re getting on with the gardening, you and Matthew? I’ve got some radish seed left over. Would you like it?”

  The conversation limped on, with Lois obviously regarding radishes as unimportant and Derek refusing to let her quiz Josie on what she had heard on either the woman strangled in the hotel or Donald Black spread-eagled on the dripping waterwheel.

  * * *

  Aurora was serving in her shop when Lois arrived. A fresh-faced, plump woman loaded up her bag with bread and wished Aurora a cheery goodbye.

  “Hi, Lois! Lovely to see you. Have you got time for a chat? Most of my weekend customers have been in now, and I have very little bread left. There’s a large white, and four soft rolls, if you’d like them.”

  Lois accepted the bread and said she had really come over for a chat, if Aurora had time. They made sure the bell over the door was working and retired to the sitting room behind the shop.

  “I’m glad you came over today,” Aurora said. “Some good news to report. At least, I hope you’ll think it good news, and I did for your sake.”

  “They’ve found the truth of what happened to Donald?” said Lois anxiously.

  Aurora shook her head. “No, I had a visitor about half past nine this morning, and could not believe my eyes when I saw Joan Whatsit—you know, Gran’s friend—struggling out of her car and into the shop with two heavy canvas bags. Brigham Jewellery bags! Seems these starter packs had been delivered to Gran and Joan, paid for, and were now returned to me as they had decided not to go ahead with our scheme! I remembered what you asked me to do, Lois, and so I am now reporting that they are completely unconnected with our jewellery.”

  “Thank the Lord for that,” said Lois. She almost asked Aurora if she would give the two their money back, but thought it would seem a bit ungracious, when there was probably a no-return clause in the scheme.

  “I shall certainly return their payments,” Aurora said, mind reading. “We don’t usually, but it is the least I can do in return for all your kindness.”

  Lois leaned forward and patted her arm. “You’re a star, Aurora,” she said. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am, and I know they’ll be grateful, too. I think it was my mum’s fault, getting carried away with the glamour of running a jewellery business!”

  “It is far from glamorous,” said Aurora. “There’s an awful lot of work involved. Sometimes Donald would come back from one of his selling trips absolutely exhausted.”

  And I know why, thought Lois. But she said, “And what about you? How are you going to manage two businesses at once?”

  Aurora smiled. “Ah ha! Let me show you my secret weapon!”

  She walked to the foot of the stairs and called. “Milly? Can you come down for a second?”

  This was followed by light steps, and a girl with long, jet-black hair stood before them, smiling fondly at Aurora.

  “This is my daughter, Milly,” Aurora said. “She has decided to take a year off from her nursing to help me pull things together. I am so pleased, as you can imagine, Lois. Perhaps we can get our dau
ghters together? Lois’s daughter, Josie, runs Farnden Village Shop, Milly, and is married to a policeman.”

  “I’d love to meet her,” Milly said. “At the moment I am trying to help Mum as much as possible, so we can come to terms with my father’s shocking death. Have you known us long, Mrs., er . . . ?”

  “Meade,” said Lois. “Long enough to admire your mother’s courage and determination,” she said.

  The girl disappeared back upstairs, and Aurora smiled proudly. “Lovely, isn’t she?” she said. “It will be great to have her help, though I am determined she shall go back to nursing after a year. By then, I shall be firmly settled, and I might even take a short holiday! Do you fancy a girls’ weekend away, Lois?”

  “Sounds nice, but not at the moment. Maybe later.” She nearly said that she had a husband who would want to be with her if they had time to spare, but remembered in time. It was going to be difficult for quite a while not to be cruel or tactless, but she trusted Aurora would know no hurt was intended.

  THIRTY

  In Tresham, in a street lined with terraces of brick houses and the occasional small shop, a woman stood at her open doorway, talking to her next-door neighbour.

  “Did you say Elsie Weedon came calling yesterday? Haven’t seen her for years.”

  “Nor had I, but I remembered her the minute I set eyes on her. She hasn’t changed one iota. Same eyes everywhere, same sharp voice. But she was very friendly and wanted to have a chat about our jewellery business. I couldn’t think why she should want to do that. After all, she must be getting on.”

  “Perhaps she was mixed up. They get like that. Old people. Always wandering off and getting lost.”

  “She wasn’t confused; I’m sure of that. Anyway, I told her Ted would help her when he came back. He’s been away up London for a few days, as you know. Hatton Garden, buying a few nice pieces. We like to keep up our standards!”

  “So she’ll be calling again? Let me know when she does. I’d like to take a look at her. She was a bit of a dragon in the old days!”

  * * *

  Joan, meanwhile, knowing that Elsie had gone into town to see her jeweller friends, had driven on from Brigham to do a small tour of the villages, looking out for attractive village halls and shops where she could leave notices once they got going with parties.

  This had taken up most of the morning, and she ended up in Fletching, where she noted down the booking details. She was on the lookout for halls where the Women’s Institute had a branch. She knew they had monthly meetings, and from her own time of being secretary in Long Farnden, she also knew it was a struggle finding interesting speakers or demonstrators.

  As she finally got into her car to return home, she realised they would need a snappy name for the business. Joan ’n’ Elsie? Lord no. Farnden Sparkles? Rubbish. Maybe Elsie would have some ideas, but the sooner they got on with it, the better. She decided to give her a ring when she got home and invite her round for supper.

  * * *

  “Did you do well?” said Josie, as Matthew came in after shutting up the shop. “I hope there’s no rules about policemen running a village shop on the side.”

  “No, but I am very glad I had a session in there. My goodness, you really hear some useful info on local goings-on!”

  “So what’s the latest? I’m surprised people were talking when you were behind the counter. I know you’re not in uniform, but everyone knows you’re a copper.”

  “They also know I am a useful chap to have around. But the latest item on the agenda seemed to be a mugging. In fact, two muggings. One in Fletching and one in Brigham.”

  “Heavens! What happened? Have you caught the mugger?”

  “Give us a chance, Josie! These two attempts to steal money and so on took place in broad daylight yesterday. Nobody about in these villages, especially ones without a pub or a shop.”

  “Or school,” said Josie. “Schools bring life to a village. We’re lucky in Farnden. Anyway, did he get away with anything?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. In each case, a man approached an elderly woman and asked for change for a phone call. When their handbags were open, he lifted the lot, and in one case, also a packet of tranquilizing drugs, on prescription and just collected from the chemist.”

  “Nasty,” Josie said. “But neither were hurt, were they?”

  “Not hurt, but badly frightened. One of the victims has a bad heart, and she was the one who had the sense to send a message to us at the station. I am going over there shortly, to collect some details.”

  “Did they get a description?”

  “Yes, and both said more or less the same thing. A tall youth, nice smile and bad teeth.”

  “Not much to go on, then. Anyway, I’ll put up a notice in the shop on Monday, if you haven’t got him by then.”

  “Thanks, love. Meanwhile, we’d better warn our Gran not to speak to any tall youths with bad teeth. And certainly not to open her handbag.”

  “Now you’ve frightened me! Is she likely to be approached by him?”

  “Probably not. He’s more than likely some chancer who’s got wheels and motors round an area and then moves on. There’s a gang of them in Tresham, all linked to the old rotten lot who imagined themselves members of a film-style baddies’ world. They’re like young students learning an illegal trade, whatever is current. Lately, it seems to be mugging old ladies. The lads do any dirty work that’s going, so the real criminals are hard for the police to pin down. No, don’t alarm her, but a gentle warning would be a good idea.”

  * * *

  Meanwhile, unaware of any danger, Gran announced her intention of walking round to Joan’s for supper. “I’ve left a casserole in the oven for you two,” she said. “I suppose I’ll be back around nineish, but if I’m late, don’t wait up. I’ll let myself in and lock up as usual.”

  “What’s with you and Joan lately?” said Lois. “You’re always in each other’s pockets. I don’t like the idea of you walking back in the dark.”

  “It’ll not be dark, not properly. And anyway, I could walk from Joan’s to here blindfold. Shall I take Jeems and give her a bit of an airing? Joan always loves to see her.”

  “Good idea,” said Derek. “Sharp little teeth could do a lot of damage. The dog’s, I mean, Gran.”

  “Ha ha,” said Gran. “So I’ll be off now. Come on, Jemima dog; let’s be going.”

  Shortly after she had gone, with Jeems willingly accompanying her, the phone rang. “Let it ring,” said Derek. “It’ll only be Dot Nimmo with a complaint.”

  “Hello?” said Lois. “Oh, it’s you, Dot. Derek must be psychic. No, he hasn’t been to the doctor. How can I help?”

  Dot asked Lois if she had seen the local television news. “There’s this mugging merchant, specialising in old ladies.”

  “So you immediately thought of me?”

  “No, no, Mrs. M. I thought of your mother, but I expect she’s seen the news. She’s just the sort of well-heeled-looking older woman that he’s approaching. He asks for money to make a phone call, and when they open their bags, he’s in there, scooping out the contents. And then he’s off like the wind.”

  “On foot?”

  “Yeah—but they reckon he’s got some sort of transport parked round the corner. I’ve had the word from my illustrious family. Although I have nothing to do with them anymore, they keep an eye on me for my dear husband’s sake. Useful, sometimes. I thought of Mrs. Weedon, because there has been some gossip going round, saying she and her friend are taking over that jewellery business at Brigham. You know, the one that bloke ran before he got murdered.”

  “How on earth did that gossip get round? Of course my mum is not taking over. She’s an elderly woman, with no experience of running a business! I don’t know how these stories start, but you could scotch that one if you hear it again.”

  Lois thanke
d Dot for ringing, and stared at Derek. “We told her, didn’t we, that she should be careful. Thank goodness she took Jeems. Perhaps you should go round later and escort her back home?”

  Derek shook his head. “Can you imagine what she would say? No, we’ll have to trust she would be sensible and keep walking. They say a terrier is the best antiburglar protection.”

  At around nine o’clock, Lois looked at her watch and said wasn’t it time Gran returned? Derek told her not to stew. “She’s a sensible woman, and it is still daylight outside. Look out there. There’s old Jim going down to the pub, and there’s still kids playing outside.”

  By ten o’clock, Lois said she was going to ring Joan and tell her that she was coming round to walk Mum back home. She wanted a breath of fresh air before bedtime, she said. Before she could reach the telephone, Derek stopped her.

  “Listen!” he said. “What’s that noise outside the back door? That’ll be her returning. So, no need to worry, me duck. I’ll go and let her in. Maybe she’s forgotten her key.”

  He went off to the kitchen, and then Lois heard him call. “Elsie? Come on in, dear.”

  Lois walked quickly through, and saw to her horror that Jeems, usually so clean and fluffy, was muddy and wet, and had rushed straight into her basket where she lay whimpering.

  There was no sign of Gran, in spite of Derek calling and calling at the top of his voice.

  THIRTY-ONE

  With all the outside lights switched on, Derek and Lois searched and called all around the garden, in case Gran had fallen and not been able to get up again.

  “No sign. Lois, you go in and ring Joan, and then we’ll look down the road, and then it’s PC son-in-law to help.”

  Lois disappeared inside the house, only to reappear in minutes to say that Gran had left Joan and set off with Jeems about a quarter of an hour ago. It was a ten-minute walk, and so she must have stopped off somewhere between there and Meade House.

 

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