“I’ll do more after our shopping trip,” she muttered to herself as she shut the library door and headed towards the kitchen.
Joan was just putting out lunch, and Janet quickly washed her hands before she sat down at the small table that took up one corner of the spacious kitchen.
“If I can get the cleaning done by Thursday afternoon, I can start figuring out a plan for organising the shelves on Friday. Once I’ve worked out how I want to arrange things, it won’t take more than a week to get it done. I suppose you can start booking guests for a fortnight’s time,” she told Joan while they ate.
“I shall have to go back through the recent requests and see what people wanted,” Joan said. “I’ve been saving them, hoping we might be ready soon. Of course, I’ve already told them we weren’t open, so they all may have made other arrangements already.”
“But we get rung up nearly every day with people who want rooms,” Janet pointed out. “I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding people who want to come.”
“I hope not,” Joan said excitedly.
The sisters had been surprised by the amount of interest that was being shown in their little guesthouse. Margaret Appleton, the previous owner, had clearly been very successful and it seemed as if a great many of her former guests were eager to visit again.
Janet forced herself to smile at her sister in spite of her reservations. In a way, she was disappointed in herself. She was always the sister who was looking for new adventures, and now when confronted with one, she was dragging her feet. For Joan’s sake, if nothing else, Janet knew she needed to embrace their new lifestyle. They were about to open a bed and breakfast, whether Janet was ready or not.
Chapter Two
After lunch, Janet took care of the washing up while Joan took some measurements in the guest rooms.
“We really do need good names for the rooms,” she reminded Janet when she rejoined her in the kitchen.
“I know. Maybe the paintings we find will provide some inspiration,” Janet suggested.
“Let’s hope so,” Joan replied.
Joan was happy to drive the short distance into the quiet centre of Doveby Dale. There was a small car park for the city centre shops, and Janet smiled when she saw how many spaces were available.
“It doesn’t look as if the grand opening is drawing much of a crowd,” she commented as Joan pulled into a spot.
“Maybe some people walked in from nearby,” Joan suggested.
There were a handful houses on the streets around the centre, so it was possible that some people might have walked over to see what WTC Antiques was offering.
The sisters walked slowly along the strip of shops, looking in windows as they went. The first shop was a newsagent and Janet couldn’t stop herself from checking the headlines on a few of her favourite celebrity magazines. She didn’t buy them often, as Joan didn’t really approve. Once in a while, though, when Joan was out with Michael, Janet would buy a few and read them in front of the telly with ice cream and popcorn, two other things that Joan didn’t approve of, at least not on a regular basis.
Next door to that was the small chemist shop that used to belong to their neighbour, Michael. He had been bought out by a large chain, and the small shop had been refitted so that it looked nearly identical, on a smaller scale, to just about every other store in their chain.
The next shop was empty, with a large sign in the window giving the details for anyone interested in letting the space. The final shop in the row was the new antique shop. There was a small sign in the window that said “Grand Opening” in an elaborate script that was nearly impossible to read. Janet and Joan stopped outside the door and looked in the window.
There were several large groupings of furniture arranged as if they were in their own small rooms. While many of the pieces were undoubtedly old, Janet didn’t see anything that she thought looked like a valuable antique. From where they were standing, there didn’t appear to be anyone in the shop.
“Do you think they’re open?” Joan asked.
“They must be,” Janet said with more confidence than she felt. She stepped forward and pulled on the door handle. The door stuck a bit, but finally pulled open. As it did so, a loud bell sounded somewhere in the building. As Joan and Janet stepped inside, William Chalmers himself came rushing out from a back room towards them.
“Ah, the lovely Markham sisters,” he said smarmily. “I’m so delighted you managed to stop by, and when it’s lovely and quiet as well. I was just thinking about ringing you, actually.”
Janet glanced at Joan before she responded. “It is very quiet, isn’t it? I do hope you were busier earlier.”
The man flushed under her steady gaze. He was somewhere in his sixties, with grey hair and eyes. His suit was a darker grey. Janet knew very little about men’s clothing, but to her the suit looked as if it must have been expensive and tailor-made for the man.
“We had a small crowd when I first opened the door this morning, but it has been quieter since then. I suspect it might pick up again later this afternoon,” he told them.
“I do hope so,” Janet replied.
“Yes, well, thank you,” the man said. “But what brings you in this afternoon? Were you looking for anything in particular or just having a look around?”
“We need some artwork,” Joan said.
“Excellent. I have a small gallery in the back room.” He beamed at them. “Just follow me.”
Clearly the man was trying to show off the various furniture pieces as if they were being used in someone’s home, but having so many room-type groupings all around the place made walking through the space incredibly difficult. Janet found herself winding her way through a small sitting room arrangement, dodging a huge dining table with ten chairs and then stumbling over an enormous wooden filing cabinet that was nearly touching the large desk next to it.
The back wall of the room was arranged like a library, and Janet wondered where the man had acquired the huge collection of books that lined the long wooden shelves. She found she was unable to stop herself from taking a closer look. As she approached the shelves, William spoke.
“Oh, I’m sure you aren’t interested in any bookshelves,” he said loudly. “You have plenty of your own, I’m told.”
“Not shelves, but I’m always interested in books,” Janet replied. She took another step forward and then frowned. There was something not quite right about the collection of books on display. She reached out to touch the binding of the first book on the shelf. With a frown, she pulled the book from the shelf, finding that the entire shelf full of titles came out together.
“It’s just a big empty cardboard box,” she exclaimed as she turned the long and narrow box over in her hands.
William quickly crossed to her and took the box from her hands. “It’s a wonderful way to display bookshelves without having to worry about moving a lot of books if someone wants to buy the shelves,” he said, sounding defensive.
Janet smiled as she looked again at the shelf. “Prime and Prejudice, Erma, King Lore, Romeo and Julia, Jane Err, Grand Expectations, Middleapril, Lady Chattery’s Lover, A Clockwork Apple, The Picture of David Grey.” She shook her head and then chuckled. “It’s quite funny really. I wish I had time to read them all.”
“Yes, well, as I said, it’s the perfect way to display shelves. Now if you’d like to follow me?”
Still chuckling to herself over the almost classic titles, Janet followed William and her sister into the back room. As William had told them, it was set up like a small art gallery, and Janet was surprised at the number and quality of the paintings as she glanced quickly around.
“Obviously we’d prefer to use art by local artists,” Joan said. “We were wondering if any of them might like to display their work in our guest rooms where we might offer it for sale, actually.”
William frowned. “I don’t actually have anything by local artists at the moment,” he said. “I simply haven’t been he
re long enough to make the necessary local contacts. I’ve always lived and worked in London, and I feel fortunate to have been able to persuade some of my favourite London artists to let me have some of their work to sell here.”
“Perhaps we need to find some local artists ourselves, then,” Joan said.
“At least take a moment to have a look around,” William suggested, sounding just a little bit desperate. “I have some wonderful pieces that I’m sure would perfectly finish your guest rooms.”
Joan looked as if she wanted to argue, but Janet didn’t give her the chance. “I really like this one,” she told William as she walked towards a large canvas. It was completely abstract, just a swirl of colours making indistinct shapes, and nothing like anything Janet had ever considered purchasing in the past, but there was something about it that appealed to her.
“It’s too big for the guest rooms,” Joan said dismissively.
“It would fit in my bedroom,” Janet suggested.
She looked at the discreetly placed price tag and grimaced. It was several thousand pounds, which was considerably more than she would even think about paying for such a thing.
“I can probably work with you a little on the price,” William told her eagerly. “It is my grand opening, after all.” He suggested a price that was considerably lower, but still well outside Janet’s budget.
“I’m sorry, but I think for today we need to focus on the paintings for the guest rooms,” Janet said. She moved past the man and worked her way around the room, firmly blocking the painting she’d liked from her mind.
“I haven’t seen anything that’s just right,” Joan said after several minutes. “And I still really want to find things by local artists, anyway.”
“I’m sure I can find something appropriate,” William said hastily. “I have so many contacts in the art world. I’m sure I’ll be able to find some local artists who’ll be interested in showing you their work. Give me a couple of days.”
“Why don’t we come back one day next week?” Janet suggested. “I’m sure you’re busy with the opening and everything, so that gives you some time to see what you can find.”
“Excellent,” the man said, smiling brightly at them both. “I won’t let you down. Now, did you need anything else today?”
“I’d love a look around the rest of the store,” Janet said. Really, she was just being nosy, and she also wanted another look at the fake book titles. For some reason she’d found them very amusing.
“We haven’t long,” Joan said in a no-nonsense voice. “There’s so much to do back at the house.”
Janet ignored her and strode back into the front room. William and Joan followed.
“I was going to ring you later, you know,” William was saying. “I have some friends coming to visit later this week and I was hoping you might be able to accommodate them.”
Janet looked over at her sister, but Joan didn’t even glance in her direction.
“I assume you’ll vouch for these friends of yours,” Joan said to William.
“Of course, of course,” he said heartily. “Harold is actually a distant cousin and he and Mildred are as much family as friends. They’ll be the perfect guests for you.”
Janet covered her snort of disbelief with a fake cough as she crossed the room towards a collection of conservatory furniture. There was a small table there that had caught her eye.
“How long would they want to stay? Joan asked.
“Only for a few nights,” William replied. “They’re planning on arriving on Wednesday and staying until the weekend.”
“I suppose we could manage,” Joan said, her tone doubtful. “The library isn’t finished, though. I hope they won’t mind not having access to it, but it’s a work in progress, as it were.”
“I’m sure they won’t mind in the slightest,” William assured her. “They’re coming to spend time with me and help with the shop for a few days. They won’t have time to read.”
Janet frowned at the thought of people not making time to read, but she kept her mouth shut. The bed and breakfast was Joan’s baby and she wasn’t going to interfere in it unless she absolutely had to.
Joan and William crossed the room to the small desk at the back that appeared to be William’s office. He and Joan took seats on opposite sides of the desk, presumably making the arrangements for his friends.
“I’m going to take another look at that painting,” Janet called to them as she headed towards the back room.
She stood in front of it for a long moment, studying it. If she could work out why she liked it so much, maybe she could persuade herself that she wasn’t all that fond of it, she told herself. After a while, she gave up. There was just something about it, the colours, the shapes, the textures, something that she really liked.
Glancing back into the main room, she saw that William and Joan were still talking. With a sigh, she turned and did another circuit of the gallery space, studying each painting in turn, but finding nothing else she especially liked. After a few minutes, she noticed that there was a door along one wall. Undoubtedly it led to storage space or an employee loo.
Firmly telling herself that it was none of her business anyway, she turned and walked briskly away from temptation. A moment later, she was back in front of the door, her hand itching to try the knob. It wasn’t that she was nosy, she reminded herself, just incredibly curious. She looked back towards the main room and saw nothing. Already chiding herself for her “curiosity,” she tried the knob.
The door opened easily and Janet was quick to find the light switch right inside the door. The room in front of her was small, but still larger than she’d been expecting it to be. There were perhaps half a dozen easels scattered around the space, a partially finished canvas on every one of them. A small table in the centre of the room was covered in painting supplies. Janet was struggling to resist the urge to walk into the room when she heard a sound behind her. Switching off the light, she quickly pulled the door shut again before she turned around.
“That’s just storage space,” William told her as he strode into the room.
“I was just looking for a loo,” Janet said, hoping William didn’t realise that she had actually already opened the door.
The man frowned. “I’m afraid we don’t have customer, er, facilities,” he said.
“Never mind, we aren’t far from home,” Janet said. She walked quickly past him, back into the main room where Joan was standing near the door.
“There you are,” Joan said. “I was starting to think you’d gone out a back way.”
“Just admiring that painting one more time,” she told her sister. “There’s just something about it I like.”
“But not the price tag,” Joan replied.
“No, I don’t like the price tag at all,” Janet agreed with a laugh.
“I might be able to let it go for, let’s say, half the price on the tag,” William interjected.
Janet shook her head. “That’s still far more than I can afford to spend on something for just me. If it were for a guest room or one of the public spaces in the house, I might think about it. But if I were to buy it, I’d want it in my room for sure. Thank you for the generous discount, though. I wish I could use it.”
“Think about it,” William told her. “The offer is good for the rest of this week, at least. If you find you can’t live without the picture, stop back.”
Janet nodded and then smiled at Joan. “We should get going,” she suggested.
“As we have guests arriving on Wednesday, we definitely should,” Joan agreed.
The pair made their way out of the shop and back down the pavement in front of the small row of stores. Janet forced herself to keep her mouth shut as they walked, even though she felt as if she might burst.
Chapter Three
“Well, that was interesting,” Joan said as she pulled the car out of its parking space. “William seemed like he was trying quite hard to be nice.”
“He did, didn’t he?” Janet replied.
“I suppose, now that he’s having to deal with customers, he’s found he must be nicer.”
“But didn’t William say that he didn’t know any local artists?” Janet asked.
“He did, but he said he’d try to find some for us,” Joan told her. “Weren’t you paying attention?”
“I thought I was, but after I saw what he’s keeping in his back room, I wasn’t sure I understood.”
“Don’t tell me you were snooping!” Joan exclaimed.
“I was looking for a loo,” Janet said defensively.
“Really?” Joan asked.
Janet sighed. She tried hard not to lie to her sister. “No, not really. I was just curious what was behind the door.”
“You’re lucky he didn’t catch you being nosy,” Joan told her. “He would have been furious.”
Janet thought back to how disagreeable William had been the first time they’d met him. She shuddered as she realised how close she came to really angering him. “I just took a quick peek,” she told Joan. “And he’d have only been angry if he’s hiding something.”
“And is he hiding something?”
“I don’t know,” Janet said with a shrug. “It sort of seems like it, though.”
“And you’re waiting for me to ask, aren’t you?” Joan demanded. “Okay, what did you find behind the door?” she asked in a tight voice.
“It looked like an art studio,” Janet replied. “There were a bunch of half-finished pictures on easels, and paints and supplies all around the place.”
“Why would William want an art studio in the back of his store?” Joan asked.
“Maybe he has a team of artists making forgeries in there,” Janet suggested.
“Maybe you’ve been reading too many books about such things,” Joan retorted. “It seems more likely one of his artist friends is using the space to make pictures for the store. I didn’t pay any attention to the names of the artists on the pictures that were for sale, did you?”
The Chalmers Case Page 2
