by Ann Purser
“This is not a holiday. I had an assignment. My purpose in coming to Scotland was to find a missing piece in a jigsaw.”
“What missing piece?”
“You.”
Katherine was silent. “I had no idea I was part of a jigsaw,” she said finally. “Are you still nosing about with—what was it?—Enquire Within? Honestly, Gus, I never thought to see you wasting time with a couple of old fogies and a merry widow! After all the things you have done!”
“Death is death, wherever you find it. And there is a possibility that all the apparently unconnected things we have discovered actually add up to a death, could be a murder.”
“So was I the possible victim? The missing jigsaw piece? Just because I left Barrington without telling anybody?” Not telling was Katherine’s speciality, and among other things, she had no intention of mentioning her morning’s search before she left, nor her realisation that to have any chance of success in finding her jewels, she would need to search a great deal longer. It was all her fault, all that cloak-and-dagger rubbish, pretending to Gus that she was in danger. She had come to her senses and decided to get right away and do some constructive thinking about what to do next. Retrieving old Jack had been the perfect excuse. “So do I fit the puzzle?” she asked.
“Got it in one,” said Gus, smiling at her. “Would you care to join the team?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. But now there has been no murder nor any other kind of violence, I still don’t see why we can’t have a few days back in your cottage, reminiscing about good times. We should stay in touch, anyway. It would be nice to be friends.”
It was Gus’s turn to be silent. He could not deny he had enjoyed the few hours he had just spent with Kath, riding about on the motorbike, walking the streets of Aberdeen and admiring the grandeur of the place. She was cheerful and affectionate, and he was reminded that when in this mood, she could be irresistible. He weakened but reminded himself that it would be better for him if he kept her away from Barrington at all costs.
“Supposing we check in somewhere along the coast, a small fishing village, maybe, and spend a couple of days walking and talking or just doing nothing?”
“Sounds a good compromise,” said Katherine. “And then I promise to go back to London and try dealing with my stolen jewellery from there. Funds are a bit short at the moment, but the insurance on the stuff—if I can’t find it—would be very useful.”
Gus, only too familiar with her promises, did not believe a word of it.
EARDPORT WAS A tiny village not far from Aberdeen, with a few houses, a school, a church and an excellent pub with fish restaurant, perched on steep cliffs which dropped down to a rocky beach and a noisy colony of seals.
Gus and Kath were welcomed warmly and, without questions asked, given a double room. It was perfectly private and, they agreed, exactly what they wanted.
“Double bed,” said Gus, looking around.
“Naturally. We signed in as man and wife.”
“Oh well.”
“Come on, Augustus,” said Kath, laughing, “cheer up! I’m not going to seduce you against your will.”
“You won’t have to try very hard,” Gus said gloomily, looking at her across the bed. She was glowing with the excitement of an adventure.
“If anyone had told me I would be hiding in a small village in the north of Scotland with my miserable ex-husband, I would not have believed them.” Katherine walked across to Gus and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Let’s go roaming in the gloaming,” she said. “It’s a lovely evening, and we can look at the seals and then come back for a drink and supper. And after that, well, we’ll take a vote.”
NEXT MORNING, DEIRDRE awoke from another dream about Gus. He was missing, and she was desperately trying to wade through a sea of treacle to rescue him from a sinking ship, when she was woken by her telephone ringing persistently on her bedside table. She reached sleepily across and lifted the receiver.
“Gus? Is that you?”
“Certainly not!” said a deep voice.
“Theo! You silly old sod! It’s very early, and I was fast asleep. Aren’t you exhausted by your long journey?”
“No, just disappointed to find only a hot water bottle in my bed.”
“Oh, for God’s sake! It’s much too early for that silliness. Can I ring you back in an hour or three?”
“Of course. Just wanted to thank you for the flowers. Lovely welcome to a weary traveller. May I take you out to lunch? So much to tell. About twelve? Sleep on, then, lovely Deirdre.”
In spite of herself, Deirdre smiled. She had been worrying about Gus and now remembered he was hundreds of miles away. Never mind, Theo was a good substitute, and usually found a pleasant place to eat. Perhaps they would go to Foxley Park, a beautiful Elizabeth mansion, now a luxury hotel. I was born to be rich, Deirdre thought, and thanks to dear old Bert, I am in my rightful element.
She was drifting back to sleep when her telephone rang again.
“Hello, Deirdre. Gus here.”
“Gus! How are you? Have you found anything—anybody?”
“Yes. I have found what I came for and shall be back soon. Must go now. Love to Whippy. Bye.”
“Wait, Gus! What have you—” But he had ended the call, and now cross and wide awake, she decided to get up and shower. A bad start to the morning, but she refused to be downcast. Lunch with Theo would cheer her up, and maybe Gus would phone again later. She was sure she had heard a woman’s voice in the room with him, just before he signed off. So he had found Katherine.
GUS FACED HIS ex-wife and waited until she had finished shrieking at him. “You couldn’t wait, could you!” she yelled. “As soon as I was out of the room you’re on the phone to the rich widow! Well, you can stuff your couple of days by the sea. I’m off!”
“How?” said Gus, stunned by this outburst.
“There must be taxis in this godforsaken place! I’ll get one to the nearest station and take the next train. And don’t try to follow me! This is the last you’ll see of me, Gus Halfhide.” And with that, she picked up her bag and stormed out of the room.
Gus sat on the bed and tried to restore some sanity to the situation. But leopards don’t change their spots. Katherine had always had sudden blind rages and closed her ears to any appeals to reason. The sweet, friendly person she had been for the last twenty-four hours had gone. He should have remembered but had been blinded by her skilful manoeuvring. She had avoided all further mention of Ulph, had skirted round Gus’s suggestion that she should go to the police about her jewellery and refused to talk about anything but past good times they had had together.
What a fool! He had forgotten, too, about her savage jealousy. And now she had relapsed into the old ferocious Katherine at the mere suggestion that Gus had another woman in his life.
He walked to the cliff edge and stared out to sea. It was a grey morning, and the beach looked rocky and uninviting. It was still early, and he would skip breakfast. All thoughts of a holiday break now seemed to him to be ridiculous. No, he would speed back to Aberdeen and splash out on a plane ticket to London, and thence to Barrington and Whippy as soon as possible.
He was lucky to catch a plane directly, and as he checked in, he was reminded of something Katherine had said about insurance on stolen jewellery. Would she ever tell him the whole truth?
Thirty-one
“SO GUS IS coming back,” Deirdre said. She had enjoyed her lunch with Theo and now, much later, was sittingwithIvy and Roy at Springfields on her way to the shop to stock up on her supply of gin. Thank goodness theshop was a late opener! Theo had dropped her off at home and had come in for several snifters and a bit of fun, and she was in need of a stiff hair of the dog. She had no qualms of conscience. Gus had found Katherine and was probably enjoying her company, else why would he be staying on for a couple of days? Well, two could play at that game.
“What exactly did he say this morning?” Ivy could see that Deirdre was put out by his c
all, but so far could not see why.
“He said he had found what he was looking for and would be back soon. That’s all. Oh, except that I could hear a woman’s voice in the background. She was shouting, and I heard her say his name, so she must have been talking to him.”
“Katherine,” said Ivy.
“Exactly,” said Deirdre. “He cut off the call before I could ask him any questions. Honestly, Ivy, I do get a bit fed up with his mystery Gus act.”
“I shouldn’t worry,” said Roy comfortingly. “It doesn’t sound as if the pair of them were getting on too well. Let’s just be grateful that he found her and that she’s not dead in a cupboard somewhere, minus her left hand.”
“Roy! Private joke?” Deirdre was shocked to see both he and Ivy smiling conspiratorially.
“Anyway,” he continued, shaking his head, “now we know that Katherine is alive, we can get back to poor Miriam’s encounter with a severed hand and the disappearing earring.”
“I don’t think we’ve heard the last of Katherine, whatever she may have said to Gus. That Ulph fellow is still around, isn’t he, Deirdre? And he and Katherine have unfinished business.” Ivy’s tone was serious.
“But that’s nothing to do with us,” said Deirdre, who had had quite enough of Gus for the moment.
“Maybe not,” Ivy said. “But it almost certainly has lots to do with Gus, and he is still our colleague, as far as we know. Yes, we know Katherine is not buried with the badgers, but it could be somebody else.”
“Minus the left hand,” all three chorused.
“Perhaps we should excavate the mound?” Deirdre did not fancy the job herself but thought they might persuade Gus on his return.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” said Ivy. “Those woods are private property, and although villagers walk through them, it is with the squire’s permission. But on no account would he allow anyone to go digging great holes on his property!”
THE SHOP STAYED open until seven thirty this evening to catch the return of commuters, and Miriam Blake was on late duty when she heard an anguished howl from the stockroom. She left a mother and child hovering over the sweets and rushed out.
“Whippy! What on earth is the matter? Did you see a rat? Oh Lord, I hope there’s not rats! Come here. There, there, Miriam’s here. Don’t be frightened. All gone now.”
“Miss Blake!” The child had made her choice, and Miriam returned to the shop, apologising for the noise and for deserting them. “It’s Mr. Halfhide’s dog,” she explained. “James is looking after him while he is away. Now, is that all? Thank you very much.”
She went back into the stockroom and saw that Whippy was still shivering and whimpering. The cat sat high up on a stack of boxes looking smug. No wonder Whippy was unhappy, poor little thing, Miriam thought, shut up here all by herself. This was not strictly true, as James took her out at least twice a day, but Miriam still smarted at not having been asked to have Whippy while Gus was away. She opened the back door for the dog to go out into the garden, where like a swift grey shadow it scuttled round the side of the shop and out into the road.
Cursing the deliveryman for leaving the side gate open, Miriam dashed back into the shop. Then she heard frantic, delighted barking. Going to the open doorway, she saw to her great relief a familiar figure coming along the street.
“Gus!” she shouted. “You’re back!”
“Good evening Miriam. All going well? I can see Whippy has been well looked after.”
“It wasn’t me that left the gate open,” Miriam said. “The deliveryman was here earlier on. I would’ve caught up with her, anyway.”
“Don’t apologise!” Gus said. He realised that for the first time since he moved to Barrington, he was glad to be home, that he actually thought of Hangman’s Row as home. It had been worth his long and tiring journey. “I just need a few supplies—”
“You must come to supper with me,” interrupted Miriam. “I got a lovely piece of salmon from the fish van and shall be cooking it with white wine and herbs. Does that appeal?”
“Rather!” said Gus happily. He turned to fasten Whippy to the dog hook outside the shop and saw a familiar car coasting along the street. Deirdre. Ah, well, he might as well face her now as later. He was well aware that he had been very abrupt on the phone, cutting her off midsentence.
The car slowed and stopped, and the door opened. Deirdre got out and slammed the door behind her. She stood perfectly still and stared at Gus. “Well, fancy seeing you!” she said loudly.
“Evening, Deirdre,” he said. “How have you been? Not too lonely, I hope.”
He should have known that this would be red rag to the bull, and she charged. “Of course I haven’t been lonely! Just what do you think you are doing, saying one thing and doing another, coming and going and leaving enigmatic messages and then coming back sooner than you said, striding about as if nothing had happened! Well, nothing has happened to us, me and Ivy and Roy, but what the hell have you been up to?”
All this was said at the top of her voice, and Miriam was agape at the shop door. Gus took Deirdre’s hand and guided her gently to the seat beside the bus stop. “Here, shall we calm down for a few minutes?” he whispered.
“I’m perfectly calm,” yelled Deirdre, and then looked behind her at Miriam staring at them in fascination. “All right, then,” she said in a more normal voice, “start talking, and you’d better make it good.”
He said nothing for a minute or two, until he felt her relax, and then he said quietly that he was very sorry for cutting off the call, but if she would let him explain, in a strange way it had been a good thing, saving him from taking some very foolish steps towards reconciliation with his ex-wife.
AFTER THEIR CONVERSATION with Deirdre, Ivy and Roy had agreed that she was getting herself in a foolish tangle with her two men friends but must be left to sort out her double life by herself.
“It’s time she decided on one or other of them,” Ivy said now, as they sat in the cool of the evening. I don’t know what her father would have said! I knew her parents well, of course,” she added. “We used to drive over to see them two or three times a year. Very decent people, they were, and her father was quite strict. Not as strict as mine, of course! But they believed in a godly, righteous and sober life, as the saying goes.”
“And Bert, her husband, what would he have said?”
“I know what he’d have done,” said Ivy with a smile. “He would have put her over his knee and given her a good smack bottom!”
Roy chuckled. He looked at Ivy, cheeks flushed with indignation and her eyes sparkling behind her glasses.
“Now then, Ivy Beasley,” he said. “Tomorrow we are going out on the town. I shall order our taxi, and when we get into Thornwell… No, not Thornwell. That’s no treat! We shall go to Oakbridge and I shall buy you a present to show how much I love you. You can choose anything you like, anything at all. What d’you say?”
“What I say is,” Ivy began, smiling at him lovingly, “that I need some new hairnets, and it’s almost impossible to get them anywhere else but in that old-fashioned haberdasher’s in town. So hairnets will be very acceptable, thank you.”
Thirty-two
ROY AND IVY were on the road in their special taxi by ten o’clock next morning. With the sun shining from a clear blue sky, and efficient air-conditioning to keep them pleasantly cool, they were in a cheery mood.
“I thought,” said Ivy, after a short pause in the conversation, “that we might go into that new coffee place and treat ourselves to scones with jam and cream. Breakfast was a bit meagre this morning, wasn’t it?”
“Good idea, my love,” said Roy. He took her hand and kissed it.
Ivy caught sight of the taxi driver looking at them in his driving mirror and grinning to himself. She drew back the small window and said to him, “What is your name, young man?”
“Elvis, missus,” he said.
“Never heard that name before,” Roy said, squeezing Ivy’s ha
nd.
“What? Never heard of Elvis? You must’ve, sir, you ain’t that old!”
Ivy looked at Roy, and he winked. “I am very old, and my memory is short. What’s in a name, anyway! We are very satisfied with your service, and that’s all that matters.”
“Fancy never heard of Elvis,” the driver muttered to himself. They were approaching Oakbridge, and he asked them where they would like to be dropped.
“That good shoe shop over there, please,” Roy said. The driver gave Ivy his hand, and she stepped neatly onto the pavement, then he turned to help Roy in his trundle.
“Oops! Be careful, young man,” Roy warned, teetering on the edge, “I’d hate to run over your blue suede shoes…”
The driver directed him safely onto the pavement and then looked at him, frowning. “There we are, sir, safe and sound. We don’t want you all shook up!” he said.
Delighted, Roy patted him on the arm and agreed that they would see him around twelve thirty.
“What was all that about?” said Ivy.
“Nothing at all,” he replied. “Just an old fool having fun.”
“Not an old fool!” said Ivy, taking his hand again. She stopped outside the shoe shop and whispered in his ear, “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
THE NEW COSTA coffee shop was now doing a roaring trade in premises that had once sold knitting wools, embroidery silks and knicker elastic.
“Haberdashery shops are almost gone,” Ivy said as they settled in a window seat. “The big do-it-all supermarkets have driven them out of business, more’s the pity. Katya was telling me she went all round one of those huge places looking for a packet of pins, and there wasn’t one to be had. Mind you, I think those assistants, most of them look about twelve, and don’t know where to—Oh! That’s him!” she said suddenly, craning her neck to look up the street.
“Who?”
“The Green Man of the Woods! I am sure it was him. Perhaps he’ll come back this way, and I’ll point him out to you.”
