Lois Meade 14 - Suspicion at Seven

by Ann Purser

  “Fine, thanks,” Aurora said. “Will you be around this afternoon? I need to go out around half past one, but should be back by three. Would that be all right with you?”

  “Yeah, o’course,” Milly said. “Going anywhere exciting?”

  Aurora frowned. “I wouldn’t call an appointment with the dentist exciting, but you never know . . .” She smiled, and Milly felt relieved.

  * * *

  Lois was busy in her office when the phone rang. It was Douglas, calling from home. “I’m off sick for a few days,” he said. “Fluey cold, so don’t come visiting. Susie and the kids are all fine at the moment, so I am quarantined in the back bedroom! Just thought I’d give you a ring to see if there’s been any progress in finding the hit-and-run merchant.”

  “You poor chap! Sorry to hear you’re poorly. Not like you to stay in bed!” Lois’s eldest had always been the tough one, along with his dad. She thought of rushing over to make sure he was being looked after properly, then laughed at herself for being so foolish.

  “No, no news,” she answered. “Everything seems to have gone quiet. Calm before the storm, maybe. Still, we don’t want any more drama from that quarter. Maybe the late Donald Black is back under suspicion. He had an alibi, of course, but it might not be so watertight as he had said.”

  “Yes, and are they still thinking he could have fallen in and drowned, and been carried along by the wheel, and so not been murdered by anybody, including himself?”

  “I think it is still a possibility. I keep forgetting to ask Aurora if he could swim, but even if he could, the current could have been strong and taken him to the wheel before he could swim away.”

  “Complicated, isn’t it? Still, old Cowgill will get to the bottom of it. With your help, of course.”

  “That’s quite enough of that, young man! Now you be good and do what Susie tells you.”

  “Ah, here she comes, Florence Nightingale, bearing steaming coffee and a jam doughnut. Bye, Mum; keep in touch.”

  * * *

  It certainly was complicated, thought Lois, as she tried to concentrate on her New Brooms tasks. She meant to call Floss in for a chat about Mrs. Prentise and her dodgy family. If Dot thought it would be quite safe, then there was nothing to worry about. And she would soon let her know if there was any reason for withdrawing Floss. She picked up the phone and dialled Floss’s mobile.

  “Hi, Floss. Nothing serious, but could you drop in at lunchtime? Something to tell you, but nothing to worry about. See you then.”

  By the time Floss rang the doorbell, Gran had been down to the shop to buy up any unsold copies of last evening’s newspaper, saying that the fewer people who saw it the better. Lois suspected that she was in fact cutting out the photo and the story, and sending it off to far-flung friends.

  “And quite right, too,” she said to Derek at lunchtime, while Gran was upstairs. “She was a brave lady, and deserves a pat on the back.”

  “What’s on your diary for this afternoon, me duck? I have to go over to Brigham to do a job, and thought I’d look in on Aurora. She needs all the support she can get.”

  “And Milly, too,” said Lois. “Give them my love and say I’ll be over very soon. What time do you think you’ll be finished?”

  “Around five, I should think. I’ll call at the bakery on my way home.”

  The doorbell rang, and Gran rushed to answer it. It was Floss, and Lois took her into the office.

  “This won’t take long, Flossie,” she said. “Sit down, my dear. Would you like a coffee? No? Right, well, I’ll come straight to the point. It is about Mrs. Prentise. Our new client, and the one neither of us liked very much. Well, Dot Nimmo has told me that her family were part of a semicriminal organisation in Tresham in the past. It has all fallen apart now, apparently, and good policing has put them out of business, except for easy, random criminal acts like mugging. But I thought I should tell you, in case you didn’t fancy it. What do you think?”

  Floss shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me, Mrs. M. I can always defend meself with me mop and bucket. No, but seriously, thanks for telling me. It might be useful, in fact, for me to keep my ear to the ground. Useful for you, I mean.”

  Lois smiled. “Thanks, Floss. Now, I won’t keep you. You’re at Brigham this afternoon, aren’t you? Derek’s over there later, but you might look in at the bakery and say hello.”

  The afternoon went quickly for Lois. She had a chat with Cowgill on the phone, and was irritated by his insistence that they were no further forward in their investigations.

  “Are you being straight with me?” she said.

  “Would I be anything else?” he said.

  “Yes, if it was necessary,” she answered. “And before I forget, was Donald Black a strong swimmer?”

  There was a moment’s silence, and then he said that he did not know what constituted a strong swimmer, but his wife had said he certainly could swim. As far as she knew, he had not been swimming for years, as he hated getting his hair wet.

  “Oh Lor, what a Charlie! Poor old Aurora. Fancy being married to that! Anyway, thanks for the info. Please keep me in touch!”

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Around six o’clock, Lois was beginning to wonder when Derek would be back. Of course, he might have been held up chatting to Aurora and Milly, and that was a good thing. Poor things must be glad of a sensible man to lift their spirits.

  The phone rang, and this time it was Derek.

  “Lois? Something funny going on here. Aurora went out about one thirty saying she’d be back at three, and Milly has heard nothing since. Poor kid is a bit worried, naturally enough. She is sure something has happened, as her mother would never not let her know if she was going to be this late. You haven’t heard anything, I suppose? Aurora said she was going to the dentist, but Milly phoned him, and he said he hadn’t seen her. She had an appointment, apparently, but she didn’t show up and he had heard nothing.”

  “Odd. But tell Milly not to worry. If she hears nothing by sevenish, I’ll call Matthew and see what he thinks we should do. Can you stay there with her? I expect she’s in a frail state anyway. Good. I’ll wait to hear from you. Meanwhile, I’ll ring Floss. She was going to call in at the bakery this afternoon to say hello. She might give us a clue. Bye.”

  * * *

  Unable to relax, Lois gave Gran a brief account of what had happened, and they sat staring at the telly, but not listening to a word. Lois looked at her watch.

  “There’s news, Mum, on the other channel.” She flicked over, and they listened carefully this time, but there was no mention of missing persons.

  “Of course not,” said Gran. “I don’t know why you are all making such a fuss. The woman has probably gone shopping somewhere else, or met a friend and gone back with her to supper. There’s dozens of reasons why she hasn’t come home when expected.”

  Then the phone rang again, and it was Derek.

  “No Aurora, I’m afraid, so Milly says I should come home. She’ll be perfectly all right, she says.”

  “I should think so, too,” said Gran sniffily.

  Milly had cheered up after assuring Derek she would be all right. She even said she could not think her mother was in real danger.

  “She has no enemies,” she insisted to Derek. “Everybody loves her, and she is doing so well in the shop because people like to come in and have a cosy chat in the warmth of the bakery. Not a soul has ever said a word against her. My dad used to say that. He always said she would go straight to heaven one day, with no stopping on the way.”

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Next morning, Milly had heard nothing from her mother, and so put up a notice in the bakery window, saying it would be shut until further notice, then returned to the bakehouse to turn off the oven. Then she had a thought. Maybe if she kept the shop open, selling what bread there was left from yesterday, and muffins stil
l in date, then she could engage customers in conversation and maybe get some clues as to her mother’s whereabouts.

  She took down the notice and unlocked the shop door. Mum always wore a fresh apron and handled all bread with thin plastic gloves. She prepared herself for her first customer, and was pleased to see Floss, a little early for her day to clean the bakehouse and living quarters.

  “Morning, Milly. Sorry I couldn’t call in last evening, but had to work late. How are you doing? I can stay a bit longer this morning if that would be a help.”

  “Shall we start with a coffee? That would be much more helpful than a clean floor. I am now really worried about Mum, Floss. Why doesn’t she get in touch? Do you think she’s held somewhere and not allowed to? Oh Lord, I just don’t understand it.”

  Floss calmly made the coffee, and sat down on a bench beside Milly. “Let’s talk about something else for a bit,” she said. “Would you like to hear about my new client? I know Mrs. M doesn’t like us to discuss our other ladies—or gents—but we’ll make an exception. You probably know the woman. Mrs. Prentise, over at Fletching. Lives in the lap of luxury, surrounded by the ill-gotten gains of her late husband’s criminal activities.” She laughed. “That’s strictly between us, of course.”

  “Prentise, did you say? I think she’s one of Mum’s bread customers.”

  “Nothing but the best for Mrs. Prentise,” said Floss. “She’s just bought two new cars. A Jaguar for showing off, and a scarlet Fiat 500 for popping over to see friends. Funny woman. One minute she’s warm and friendly, and the next clams up like an oyster and goes all chilly. Still, I suppose I’ll get used to her. As Mrs. M says, we don’t have to like our clients, just do a good job.”

  Milly managed a smile. “I’ve got her now. Once or twice when I’ve been home, she’s come in with her daughter. A really tarty-looking female, Gloria, of course, with a lot to say for herself. Between you and me, I reckon she was after my dad. Several times, he came through the shop while they were here, and she was all over him.”

  That must have been jolly for Aurora, thought Floss. But she said no more about the Prentises, and after cautioning Milly to forget immediately all she had reported, otherwise she’d be getting her cards from Mrs. M, she started off upstairs to begin cleaning.

  Milly’s next customer was Lois. “I’m not checking up on Floss,” she said, smiling warmly. She was pleased that Milly looked much more relaxed. Floss working her magic, she thought. “I just wanted to call and see how you are, dear,” she said. “Josie said you had a good night, with the aid of a pill. Still, however, it will have done you good. It’s really great to see you’ve opened up.”

  “I thought I might chat up one or two customers and see if they have any news of Mum.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be hearing from her very soon,” Lois said. “It could be that the dreadful thing that happened to your father has knocked her sideways for a bit. Does happen, I believe. She’s probably not thinking straight. But she’ll be her old self any time now. And think how pleased she’ll be to see you’re keeping the bakery going!”

  “I can’t bake bread, though. I’ll be open until all the other stock is sold, anyway. And by then, perhaps we’ll know . . .” Her lip quivered, and she sniffed.

  “I’ll have two small wholemeal loaves, please!” said Lois breezily. “And Josie said she’ll bring supper when and if she comes along tonight. You won’t be alone, Milly, and we’re all doing our very best to help.”

  “I am really grateful,” said Milly, close to tears again. “You’d think with my nurse training I’d be used to bad news, but when it’s your own mother . . .”

  “Chin up, love. By this evening, we’re bound to have some news on police progress. Not to mention a little ferretin’ on my part! See you later.”

  It was not until later that Lois remembered Milly tearfully missing her mother, but with no mention of her father, except that Gloria Prentise had been more than friendly with him. A chat with Gloria might be productive. She drove home whistling loudly, and Jemima, curled up in the back, twitched. If dogs could frown, she would have frowned her displeasure.

  * * *

  Instead of driving straight home, Lois decided to go into Tresham and call on Dot Nimmo. Dot was her source of useful information on the underworld of town, and would certainly be able to tell her where to find Gloria. Mrs. Prentise had given her the impression that she was seldom at home in Fletching and her frilly bedroom was almost never used.

  Dot would be at home this morning, and Lois drew up outside her house, making a mental note to call in later at New Brooms office, at the other end of the street.

  “Gloria Prentise? What on earth do you want to see that scrubber for?” Dot was not one for mincing her words, and Lois laughed.

  “I need to talk to her about Donald Black. To call a spade a spade, you obviously know she is almost certainly a high-class prostitute. Her family is loaded, and she doesn’t need to do it. Like a lot of rich kids, she likes the danger and spice involved, I suppose. Don’t forget she was Sylvia Fountain’s cousin.”

  “As if!” said Dot firmly. “And don’t go mixing yourself up with that lot! I can tell you all you need to know.”

  “Thanks, Dottie. But I would just like to meet Glorious Gloria. Do you know where I might track her down?”

  Dot looked at her watch. “The Purple Dog,” she said. “Next to St. Cuthbert’s, in Market Street. She’s there most lunchtimes, picking up messages. Know what I mean? But you have to take care, Mrs. M. Take my advice and stay away.”

  “I’m sure you are right, Dot, and I will be careful. But Aurora is a good friend of mine, and I am very fond of her daughter, who as good as told me that Gloria was one of her father’s girlfriends. Anything I can do to help at the moment . . .”

  “Mm, well, have it your way. But watch your back. What about old Cowgill? Isn’t he on the case? He’s pretty good at finding lost dogs, so he might even produce Aurora Black very soon.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  The Purple Dog was an unglamorous nightclub in the backstreets of Tresham. Purple paint peeled off an unlikely looking poodle, mounted on a sign that squeaked rustily in the wind. Lois parked her van outside the front door, where she could keep it in sight. Locked vehicles were child’s play for the villains of Market Street.

  When she walked into the bar, she knew immediately which of the drinkers was Gloria Prentise. Her mop of red hair shone like a good deed in a naughty world. Not that the Purple Dog was all that naughty. It had had its teeth drawn by the police some time ago. That hair! thought Lois. One hundred percent natural, she was sure. She remembered how beautifully she had shown off the jewellery when she came to the party with her mother. Gloria the model and Gloria the comforter of lonely men. Unfortunately, today her face did not match the beauty. Heavily made up, with a falsely bright smile, she was deep in conversation with a very fat man, who overflowed the bar stool on which he perched like an overweight pigeon.

  “This is a private club, missus. Members only,” said the man, frowning at Lois.

  “I am a visitor only, looking for Gloria Prentise.”

  “That’s me,” said Gloria. “As I suspect you already know. And don’t worry about her,” she added, speaking to the man on the stool. “Cowgill’s bit of stuff.”

  “I’ll ignore that,” said Lois pleasantly. “I wonder if you could spare me a few moments. I am trying to find out what has happened to a friend of mine—”

  “—Aurora Black?” said Gloria. “She’s okay, as far as I know. Something happened to her, has it? I expect she’s mourning her dear husband. What a crumb! If you ask me, he got what was coming to him.”

  Lois’s eyebrows shot up. “And what was that?”

  “Don’t come the innocent with me, Mrs. Cleverdick Meade! He met a watery end, stupid sod. Probably couldn’t swim. And that wasn’t the only thing he co
uldn’t do. Not with goody-goody Aurora, anyway. Take my advice and forget all about the Brigham Blacks.” She downed half a glass of red wine and turned away.

  The fat man slid off his stool and moved towards Lois. “Are you going to clear off, or shall I throw you out?” he said. “And don’t even think of becoming a member.”

  Lois laughed in his face. “Whatever makes you think I would ever want to join your rotten club?” she said, and walked smartly out and into the street. A huddle of young kids stood at the corner, staring as she drove off in her van. Her heart was thudding, and she took some deep breaths. Derek would be furious if he knew she had been frightened by the Purple Dog.

  * * *

  Hazel was comfortingly calm and confident, looking up brightly from her desk as Lois walked in.

  “Hi, Mrs. M! I wasn’t expecting you, was I?”

  “No, spur of the moment, Hazel. How are you and your family?”

  A short and entertaining account of Hazel’s farming husband and her small daughter’s narrow escape from a rampant cockerel was just what Lois needed, and she accepted an offer of coffee and chat gracefully.

  It was really stupid, she told herself as Hazel disappeared into the kitchen. There was nothing seriously threatening about Gloria or her friend. They were unpleasant, certainly, but not much more. If they did know the whereabouts of Aurora, they were not telling, and she would have to think of some other way of finding out at least the likelihood of her being abducted and held somewhere local.

  But why? What possible gain could anyone possibly expect from Aurora Black, who had never caused anyone harm, and, it now seemed, had had quite a lot to put up with from husband Donald? If it was money, it was a waste of time. Aurora had often said they had sacrificed all their spare cash on giving Milly a good education and training for her chosen profession. Then it must be something else. Her silence? She must have known all about Sylvia and Gloria being mistresses of Donald, and decided to let it happen a good while ago.