by Issy Brooke
It looked like a horrible place to work. And she doubted that it paid very much. Yet his wife, Eleanor, oozed high standards. It wasn’t going to be cheap to keep a woman like that in the manner she expected; hadn’t Agatha hinted as much?
Eleanor didn’t seem overly enamoured with living in Upper Glenfield, either. Thomas had been an international traveller, once; he’d been a close protection officer. That sounded super-sexy and very glamourous and attractive. Back then – yes, Penny could quite see how Eleanor would have fallen for him.
And now? Working nights here, or a scrap yard just like it?
The farm was worth a great deal of money, she thought. Was Thomas named in the will? That would certainly give him motive…
She hung onto the fence, her fingers curling around the wire as she stared and thought. She had to find out about the will. Weren’t they listed somewhere? She doubted there was public access to such things but she wasn’t quite sure. A public records office? Or was that just for births, marriages and deaths?
She played out a tempting scenario in her mind: she would sneak into the scrap yard (somehow, though the actual details of how she’d manage that were hazy) and enter the security cabin, which would be empty yet unlocked (again, for reasons unknown). Thomas – for she would be at the correct workplace – would have nipped off somewhere. A call of nature, perhaps. There on the desk would be a copy of the will that he just happened to be reading. At work. Like it was a normal thing to do. Then she’d take a snap of it with her smartphone and escape home, undetected. She saw it play out with the gloss of a movie.
It was a satisfying chain of events that spurred her on to making her move. Penny began to walk sideways, away from the locked gate, hunting for some gap in the fence. At the corner, she thought that she could see a bad join between two panels. She began to prise at it.
Light flared all around her, and she was disorientated until she realised it was coming from a flashlight behind her, making her own shadow loom up large in front of her face. She whipped around, which was a mistake, because now she was blinded from staring right into the torch’s full beam. She pressed back against the fence and blinked rapidly.
“Who are you?” a man’s voice demanded roughly, interspersed with some rich and fruity language. She’d heard it all before but it wasn’t pleasant. “What are you doing here? Who are you?”
“Hi!” she said, brightly, as if she was out on an afternoon shopping. “I’m Penny. I’m … er … wondering if Thomas Hart works here?”
The flashlight moved to the side and was angled to the ground now, but all she could see was a dark silhouette. “It’s none of anyone’s business,” he said.
“Ah. Are you Mr Hart?” she said hopefully.
The light was shone into her face again. She managed to get one eye shut in time. “I’m phoning the police. You’re coming to the cabin to wait. You can explain to them what you’re doing breaking into my – hey!”
She threw herself sideways. She gambled on the fact that he wouldn’t expect her to try and break for freedom until he’d stopped speaking. Well, maybe that would have been the polite thing to do. Penny ducked low, shot to the side and ran in a zig zag across the road, hoping that the learner driver wasn’t about to erratically appear and mow her down.
There was a stream of cursing behind her and stamping feet that didn’t seem to be very fast. She wondered if he was allowed to leave the scrap yard unattended, like the way Warren seemed tied to his shop. She ignored her ankle’s throbbing, and put on a burst of speed, reaching her car and fumbling to get in. She didn’t dare look behind to see if he was still pursuing her. She slammed into gear and shot away with a painful grating of the engine. Her rear view mirror was filled with light; in fact, she could see three lights – the learner driver was back and the other light must have been Thomas’s flashlight. It looked satisfyingly confusing. She kept on the accelerator until she was in the flow of traffic in the ever-busy city centre, and finally she was able to control her breathing.
She was sweaty, she was in pain, and she was tingling with excitement.
She was alive.
* * * *
Penny made herself a cup of tea when she got home, but left it standing on the table and grabbed a can of cider from the fridge instead. It seemed more fitting. She went to sit on her sofa, absolutely thrumming with adrenaline.
I feel part of something again, she thought in wonder. I’m dynamic. I’m righting wrongs. I wonder what the upper age limit is for joining the police force?
She was interrupted in her new fantasy of crime-fighter extraordinaire by the ringing of her mobile phone. It was Cath, and she was surprised. It was gone nine o’clock at night.
“Hi Cath! How are you?” She knew she sounded over-excited.
“I’m on duty,” Cath said, and her voice was flat and dry. “This is a work-related call.”
“Er … oh … I suppose I ought to call you Detective Constable Pritchard, then.”
“Yes, quite. There have been some complaints made about you.”
“Some?” Oh dear.
“Two. Two complaints in one night. At least you gave the complainants your name, and even your address. That saves us a little bit of investigation. I do not think you are in our top ten of cunning criminals yet.”
Penny was irrationally peeved. If she was going to take up crime – which she wasn’t, but just supposing – she’d be good at it. She would be in the top ten. She decided not to tell Cath her thoughts. Instead, she said, “I don’t see what Eleanor has to complain about – it was Eleanor who complained, wasn’t it? I just went round for a neighbourly chat, and I left when she asked me to. Actually, I left when she threatened me with weapons, and I think that’s something your murder investigation needs to take a good look at!”
“The fact is that our complainant, whose identity I shall neither confirm nor deny, felt harassed. And then the complainant’s husband had an encounter with a strange woman later on. The husband called the wife and they compared notes. They are quite within their rights to now feel they are the centre of a campaign of harassment, Penny. What on earth were you thinking?”
“I was thinking about the will,” Penny said. “Who is the main beneficiary? How can we find out?”
“We?”
“You. The police,” she corrected, hastily. “Seriously. There is some kind of–”
“Penny!” Cath exploded. “Please. I am on duty. I can do what I can do, here, for you but you must listen. You are going to end up with an Anti-Social Behaviour Order at this rate. Do you really want an ASBO? I think they might send an officer round to talk with you tomorrow. Be honest and most importantly, be really, really sorry. Okay?”
“Okay. I understand.”
There was a pause and a long sigh. Then, in a gentler tone of voice, Cath added, “Look, Penny. I am sorry about this. Let’s do coffee soon, okay? We really should.”
“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”
“No. I consider it damage limitation,” Cath shot back, and ended the call.
Penny couldn’t help grinning to herself. Cath was curious about what she had to say, she could tell. She was hampered because she was calling from the open plan offices.
She still considered the evening a success, ASBO or no ASBO.
Chapter Fourteen
Penny woke up on Saturday morning in an uncommonly good mood. The sun was shining and it was almost feeling summery. Warm sunshine and birdsong was an instant anti-depressant. More importantly, she felt she’d got somewhere significant in the case.
In spite of the potential for the pavements to be busy, she decided to be bold and walk Kali. She had a pocket full of high-value treats – the very yummy sort of stuff that Kali didn’t get at any other time. She had her confidence and a spring in her step as she left the house, head held high.
She still didn’t dare to go to the popular dog walking area along the Slipe, but she skirted the edge of it as she followed the road south.
; She pondered the previous night’s escapades. It was feeling like a dream already. She was utterly convinced, however, that the murderer had to be Thomas, and that Eleanor knew something. She might not know the whole truth, but she was clearly hiding something.
Penny hoped to meet with Cath soon, as a friend rather than as a police detective. She resolved to call her when she got home. Francine nagged at her, too, but she’d call her that evening, perhaps. Penny had to find out about the will, and more about David – she knew his parents had passed on, but did he have any children? She wished she was connected to the internet already, although she doubted she could just google up someone’s will. Still, it was worth a try. She’d googled herself once and discovered some old photos of herself from various company websites that she had had no idea about. She’d stopped immediately before she discovered anything worse than enormous hair and ill-advised blue eyeshadow.
A man in jeans and a plaid shirt said hello to her as he walked past. Kali strained towards him, her tail and indeed her hips wagging in greeting. She seemed to think that everyone wanted to be her new best friend. One quick twitch of the lead attached to the head-collar, and she was back by Penny’s side, looking up and waiting for a treat for being so good.
Penny didn’t think she recognised the man, but it didn’t matter. It felt good to be part of a community where people did say hello on a warm May morning.
Kali began to furtle and sniff under the hedgerows, pushing her nose further and further into the tangled undergrowth. Penny let her have a good root around, but suddenly Kali yelped, and went stiff, and tried to back out, but couldn’t.
“What have you done, you daft dog?” Penny said, kneeling to see what the problem was.
The head-collar, although an amazing piece of kit, was designed for improving the dog’s walking, and was not suited to being dragged through vegetation. The loop on the underside had become enmeshed with some leggy old thorns and weeds.
“Hang on … keep still,” she urged as she tried to see what the issue was. Of course Kali had no intention of keeping still and the more the dog panicked, the sicker Penny felt as she struggled to pull the head-collar free from the twisting tendrils. She could barely reach the problem, her arms stretched in amongst the scratching twigs and lower branches. “Please,” she said, and her desperate voice made Kali pull back in fright, tightening the head-collar around her muzzle. She was whining and it was a sound that made Penny ache.
“Right, I’ve got it … hang on…” The only thing she could see to do was to unclip the head-collar while holding onto Kali’s collar. But with the twigs in her face, and her hands scrabbling in the weeds, she lost her grip as soon as the head-collar slipped free of the dog, and Kali shot backwards, yelping.
Penny tugged hard on the now-unattached and dog-free head-collar, not caring if it broke as she hurtled out of the hedge and landed on her bottom on the pavement. Kali had disappeared but she could hear barking up ahead where a path led off from the road. Feeling ill with anxiety, her vision clouding at the edges as she didn’t breathe deeply enough, she stumbled to her feet and lurched towards the path, calling for her dog.
The barking stopped. As she rounded the tree that marked the start of the path, she had a clear view.
There was Kali, sitting and looking up at a woman in lilac and hot pink, who was pulling something from her appliqued tote bag. Kali was wagging her tail. The treacherous animal.
The woman was Mary.
Penny leaped forward, feeling so shaky that her legs gave out and she sank to her knees as she reached Kali, burying her head in the dog’s furry shoulders. “Oh my goodness…”
Kali butted upwards with her forehead and then accepted some kind of goodie from Mary. Penny took a deep breath and looked up.
“Thank you, thank you! I was so sure I was going to come around that corner and see…”
She couldn’t describe what she feared. Another dog, the aftermath of a fight … she shuddered. “Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome. What a lovely dog. I recognise her from your drawings.”
Hang on, Penny thought, you called her a vicious beast before, waiting for her chance to rip your face off. Then she decided that now was not the time to challenge Mary on that. She got to her feet, awkwardly, and untangled the head-collar. It was undamaged and Kali was happy to put it back on.
“About the other day at the craft group,” Penny said. “I want to apologise properly for being so insensitive and talking about stuff that I didn’t have the right to.” She felt a little mealy-mouthed in her apology because she didn’t totally mean it.
But Mary accepted it, making Penny feel even more of a sleaze. “It’s fine, my duck. I need to say sorry to you. It’s been so stressful lately that I over-react to some things. My emotions are all over the place. I cry at stupid stuff and laugh when I shouldn’t laugh. I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”
“That’s understandable,” Penny said, feeling growing sympathy for the woman in spite of her general dislike. “How long had you and David been together…?”
It was a risky question, perhaps, but Penny hoped it sounded natural. And Mary answered quite normally. “Oh, as … partners, just a few months.” She smiled. “Partners! That’s the word nowadays. I prefer lovers. He was my gentleman-friend. But anyway. I’ve known him forever, of course. Through Eleanor. I’m sorry, that’s a difficult subject…”
“Of course, of course. If I can help in any way…” Barring giving you a lift to the craft fair, she thought, and then felt like a horrible human being. So she said, “Perhaps when I am free I can give you a lift to the next craft fair…”
Mary’s eyes lit up. “That would be wonderful! I wasn’t able to get to that one this weekend,” she added meaningfully. “I didn’t book a table in the end. What with you being busy tomorrow… But the next one would be fantastic. I live up on Church Street, the cottages there. Number eighteen. I really would appreciate that.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “Oh my goodness. Your kindness will set me off again.”
Penny felt better that she had done the right thing at last, even if it meant Mary was now in tears. She reached out instinctively and patted Mary on the shoulder, which unleashed a flood of tears.
“I’m sorry, my duck, I’m sorry,” Mary babbled.
“It’s all right! You’ve got every right to cry,” Penny said firmly. “You let it all out, now. There, there.”
She glanced down to see Kali was pressed against Mary’s leg and looking up at her in concern. Mary pulled out a tissue and blew her nose. “I’m just so fragile at the moment,” she said. “With everything.”
“Of course.” She’d lost her partner … of just a few months, Penny reminded herself. She asked, cautiously, “You’ve lost your gentleman, uh, friend. Your job and your car, you said at the craft group. It’s a lot for anyone to deal with. You’re doing marvellously, under the circumstances.”
But there was more. “Oh, and those blasted letters!” Mary blurted.
“What letters?” Penny felt a tingling in her stomach.
Mary’s body shuddered as she fought to stifle her tears. “Oh, it’s nothing. I really shouldn’t take any notice of them. People can be so spiteful. I know I’m not perfect. Who is? But they send them anyway.”
“Mary, let me get this straight. Someone’s sending you horrible letters?” That was low. That was lower than low. Poor Mary.
“Threatening ones. They tell me to leave town. Or … or …”
“When? How many letters have you had? Have you told the police?” Penny asked, aghast. She was excited about the new revelation but deeply concerned for the woman she now saw as vulnerable and alone. She drew Mary closer and gave her a hug, her earlier distaste for the gossiping woman forgotten.
Mary shook her head. “No, I haven’t told anyone. I’m just a silly old biddy, aren’t I? They won’t take any notice, the police. Some people would say I’m getting what I deserve, no doubt.�
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“No, who would say that?”
“There are people in the town…” Mary tailed off.
Penny could understand that a lot of people would gossip and gloat, even if they stopped short of sending the letters themselves. “How many letters have you had?” Penny asked again.
“Four or five. The last one was three weeks ago. I’m so on edge waiting for the next one. I’m quite distracted.”
Penny thought back. The last letter Mary had received was before David had been killed. Could he have been sending them to his own partner? It seemed very unlikely but of course, Penny had never met the man. In life, at any rate.
“Mary, do you have any idea who might have sent them?”
Mary’s sobs were abating. She blew her nose again and tucked the tissue away. “I always thought it was an ex-lover of his,” she said. “I have a strong suspicion…”
She fell silent. Penny waited for her to finish but Mary began to pat her hair and pinch her cheeks, evidently readying herself to continue her walk. “You have a strong suspicion…” Penny prompted hopefully.
“It’s gossip, nothing more.” Mary threw her shoulders back and tipped her chin up, a woman determined to carry on in life and let nothing get her down. “Gossip’s got me into so much trouble,” she added, a downturn to her mouth.
“I … I was sorry to hear about the loss of your job,” Penny said. “At the surgery.”
Mary smiled tightly. “That? That was the least of it. Thank you, my duck, for your kindness today. Don’t let me keep you from your walk. You be a good dog, now!” she said, wagging her finger at Kali. “Be good for your lovely owner!”
She patted Kali on the head and walked away, holding herself very straight and walking briskly. Penny watched her go, with Kali held close beside her on a tight lead. So, what other trouble had Mary’s gossiping got her into?
And who had sent her the threatening letters?
Chapter Fifteen
