14 Suspicion at Seven

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14 Suspicion at Seven Page 2

by Ann Purser


  “Can you give me names, Josie?”

  “No, sorry. Not unless it is unavoidable. If it got around that I was a nark, my shop would be avoided like poison. Mum being your little helper is bad enough.”

  “And being married to a policeman?”

  “And being married to a policeman.”

  THREE

  Gran had refused many times to have her hearing tested, claiming it was as good as the day she was born. Lois suspected she could be conveniently deaf at times and sharp as a button at others. She sighed, as no sooner had the bell begun to ring than there Gran was, opening the door and greeting Cowgill with distinct coolness.

  “Ferretin’,” as Lois’s husband called her detective work, was steadfastly frowned on by both him and Gran. Derek considered she had enough to do with New Brooms without running around after criminals, some of whom could be dangerous, and Gran’s objection was terse and to the point. “A woman’s place is in the home,” she would say, loudly and often.

  Now Lois asked her kindly if she could rustle up coffee for the inspector, and shut the office door firmly.

  “It’s some time since we cleared up the last case. How have you been Lois? Is business good?” Cowgill smiled affectionately at her over her desk.

  “Fine, thanks. New client at, guess where, Brigham. My friend Aurora Black runs a bakery near the Mill, and, as I am sure you know, we have talked about the sad case of an unexplained death in the hotel.”

  Cowgill nodded. “Right, well, this woman, who checked into the hotel as Sylvia Fountain, arrived at about three o’clock in the afternoon with an overnight bag and went up to her room. She did not appear in the dining room for supper, nor at breakfast. The cleaning staff reported that they could get no reply to knocking, and asked if they should use their room key to go in.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Ten o’clockish. The cleaners do not always go round the rooms in the same order, so they weren’t absolutely sure, but more or less ten o’clock. When they went in, two of them, they saw the woman, still under the duvet and asleep, or supposedly asleep. Then one of them said the woman seemed very still, so they gently pulled back the duvet and saw at once that she was not breathing. The rest you can imagine.”

  “Not completely. Was she wearing nightclothes?”

  “Ah, still thinking laterally, Lois. No, she was wearing the clothes she arrived in. And the next odd thing is that her overnight bag contained no night things. No nightdress, toothbrush, nothing you would expect to find.”

  “What was in it, then?”

  “Jewellery. Bags of it. And, I am assured, all of it worthless. Costume jewellery, I believe it used to be called.”

  “Oh God. Not jewellery.” Lois had paled.

  “I know, Lois my dear. Your friend Aurora’s husband, Donald Black. First on our list of suspects, of course.”

  “But she didn’t say anything about him being involved when I was over there.”

  “No, well, when we spoke to him he had a cast-iron alibi. He was up north, far north, attending a conference on business management. They vouched for his every move, including sleeping in a school dormitory requisitioned for the purpose.”

  “Oh, how convenient! And the big question: how did she die?”

  “Strangled with a silver necklace.”

  “Blimey,” said Lois, and she frowned as the door opened and Gran entered bearing a tray of coffee and home-baked biscuits.

  “You all right, Lois?” she said, frowning. “You look like a ghost! What’ve you been saying to my daughter, Inspector?”

  “Oh, I’m okay, Mum. Thanks for the coffee.”

  The inspector had jumped up to help, and now closed the door behind a scowling Gran.

  “Sorry, Lois. I didn’t mean to alarm you. But I am afraid that Donald Black is still under surveillance. I am not sure how much he has told his wife, but she must be aware.”

  “Poor Aurora. What a slimy toad he must be. Beats me how he fathered that lovely Milly.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions, Lois. As I said, his alibi is watertight. In fact, so much so, that it is in itself odd, to say the least. Most of us cannot account for every minute of our day and night.”

  “Anything more to tell me?”

  “Only that Miss Sylvia Fountain is known to us. Nothing serious. A little light shoplifting now and then. Also hires herself out to the highest bidder. Family money behind her, apparently.”

  “Where does she come from?”

  “Variously at a number of addresses. Widowed aunt lives in relative luxury locally. Several brothers, who return to our notice on a regular basis. Small-time crooks, and not worth our time and trouble, mostly.”

  Lois did not reply for a minute, and then said that she presumed he wanted her to concentrate on the Brigham end of the case.

  The inspector rose to his feet. “You know, my love, that whatever you decide to do is helpful to us. As long as you keep in touch and don’t do anything foolish.”

  “Thanks, Cowgill. To be honest, I look at it like this. If I can help Aurora in any way, then I shall do so. And before you say it, I shall remember to keep mum on everything you’ve told me.”

  He laughed. “That’s my girl,” he said, and leaned across the desk to give her a light kiss. She did not push him away, but said, “You’re allowed one. Being as you’re family.”

  FOUR

  “Douglas phoned while you were out with Jeems,” Derek said.

  Lois had taken her dog to the nearby woods early, before breakfast. “She caught a rabbit,” she said. “I’ve left it in the scullery for you to deal with. I was a bit cross with her, but as she killed it quickly, I thought we might as well not waste it. Mum loves rabbit.”

  “What’s that Mum loves?” said Gran, coming into the kitchen.

  Lois told her, and her long-suffering mother said that as long as Derek drew and skinned it, she’d make rabbit pie for tonight’s supper.

  “I might be out for supper,” Lois said. “Aurora has asked me over to see some new stuff Donald has for sale. She wants me to stay for supper. Perhaps we could have rabbit pie tomorrow?”

  Gran sniffed. “You don’t fool me, Lois Meade,” she said. “You’re ferretin’ again. To do with that strangled tart, I suppose.”

  Lois did not deny this, but said Josie’s birthday was coming up, and Donald Black had got some new stuff to show her.

  “I should think we could do better than that rubbish for our Josie’s birthday,” said Derek. “I suppose it is no good saying you’d do better to keep well away from Brigham and that latest case?”

  “Who said anything about the latest case?” said Lois.

  “Inspector Cowgill did,” said Gran. “I just happened to be coming along with your coffee, and you know what a deep voice he has. It carries, you know.”

  “Mum! You were listening at the keyhole!”

  “Of course I wasn’t! How can you say such a thing to your own mother?”

  “Oh well. I expect the full details will be in the local papers by now. But for heaven’s sake, if you heard anything else, keep it to yourself. And in answer to you, Derek my love, I promise to keep well away from anything dangerous. I really want to help in this case for Aurora’s sake.”

  “Haven’t you forgotten something?” said Gran with a smirk.

  “No. Don’t think so.”

  “Your son Douglas phoned. Shouldn’t you go and phone him back?”

  “Oh Lor, okay, okay. I’ll go into my office.”

  She went quickly into the cool, soothing quiet of her office and dialled her son.

  “Hello? Mum here. Did you want me?”

  “Just idle curiosity, Mother dear. Brigham Bakery is in the news today. Isn’t that the Blacks, opposite the hotel where that woman has been found dead in bed? I thought you mig
ht have an ear to Mrs. Black? Aren’t they Brooms clients?”

  “And I get my bread from them. Delicious it is, too, and Aurora Black is a very nice person. I count her as a friend. As for knowing anything more about the strangled woman, apart from the fact that her name was Sylvia Fountain and her occupation prostitute, then I don’t know anything.”

  “Fountain? An old and disreputable family here in Tresham, so the gossip goes. So possibly one for Inspector Cowgill and his brilliant sidekick, Mrs. Lois Meade? No, don’t answer that. The Fountains are known to be rich, largely as a result of dodgy dealings. Best not to have anything to do with any of them. We all love you, Mum, and don’t want to lose you. ’Nuff said! Bye for now.”

  * * *

  Lois spent the day visiting clients and checking over the accounts with Hazel in the Tresham office. She thought of calling on Susie, Douglas’s wife, but looked at her watch and decided the best thing would be to see if Cowgill was in his office and find out how much he knew about Tresham’s underworld in general and the Fountains in particular. He had spent a working lifetime in the area and probably knew all the villains, really bad, not so bad, and totally ineffectual. The Nimmos were another such family, and Dot Nimmo, a member of Lois’s team and cleaner extraordinaire, had opted out, more or less, but inside knowledge had proved invaluable in the past.

  “Afternoon, Mrs. Meade,” said the sergeant on the reception desk. “The inspector is in his office. Would you like to go on up and give him a nice surprise?”

  Inspector Cowgill’s partiality for Lois Meade was well known in the police station, and Lois said certainly not, she would be glad if he would wipe that grin off his face and enquire if the inspector was free.

  By the time she had climbed the stone steps to his office, he was standing at his door ready to welcome her.

  “To what do I owe this visit, Mrs. Meade?” he said formally, and then as soon as his door was shut, gave her a hug and drew up a chair for her.

  “It’s simple really,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about the families known to be involved in a network of crooks in this town and around. More as background information, really. Nimmos I know about, and now there’s the Fountains?”

  The next half hour Lois listened carefully as Cowgill gave her information about people she had never met. The Nimmos seemed to have been a bunch of Robin Hoods, stealing from the rich to give to the poor, with no record of violence. Not so the Fountains. Mugging old ladies for their purses was a specialty.

  “So what are you going to do? And is there anything I can be doing to make life easier for Aurora Black?”

  “Trust me. I am sure you will be supporting her, and that is most important at the moment. She is carrying on with the bakery, and I suspect helping her is what you can do best. Now, Lois dear, unfortunately, much as I would love to keep you here for longer, I have a meeting to go to in five minutes. How’s the family? Matthew and Josie seem blissfully happy.”

  “And why not? Anyway, I have to go now. Work to do. Oh, and by the way, when you come to see me in my office, keep your voice down. Mrs. Weedon, alias Gran, has superefficient hearing.”

  FIVE

  The Blacks lived in the rear of their bakery, in an extension they had added years ago, when Aurora decided to set up her bread business in Brigham. They had one very precious child then, and had subsequently tried hard for another to be a companion for her.

  Aurora had sadly given up the possibility of it happening by chance, and had secretly investigated the possibilities of success.

  Although she did not want to blame Donald, she was pretty sure the fault was with him.

  Now it was too late, and in any case, she had a business that required all her time, and as Donald was away frequently at his jewellery parties, she accepted that her life was full enough, and having Milly was a bonus.

  She was expecting Lois Meade for supper, and Lois was sure to be full of news of her children and grandchildren, just as it should be. She thanked God, not for the first time, that she had her wonderful daughter, Milly, and had been delighted to hear from her that she hoped to be with them tomorrow for a lightning visit.

  * * *

  “Hi, Lois, come on in. Supper won’t be long, and Donald has made some Pimms for us. It is really summery today, isn’t it? I must say you are looking very smart this evening. Don’t know how you do it . . .”

  “What with running a business, having children and grandchildren and keeping Gran happy? Are you thinking on those lines? Then you’re absolutely right, and it is really nice of you to say so.” Lois kissed Aurora on her cheek, and accepted a glass from Donald with a cool nod.

  “Shall we have supper first, and then Donald can show you his latest collection? I must say I am tempted myself!”

  What a pleasant couple, Lois thought to herself. Maybe I’m wrong about Donald. They seem so well adjusted to each other. None of the arguments that were a daily occurrence at Meade House. She watched as Aurora laid the table for supper, and Donald drew the cork from a bottle of red wine. She thought of Derek, who would be happy with a ham sandwich and a can of light ale.

  But then she remembered how much her family actually enjoyed a good argument, a fierce battle of words without giving any quarter.

  Perhaps Aurora, who was lively minded and good company, did not find Donald boring, with nothing to talk about but brooches, bracelets and necklaces. Baubles, bangles and beads!

  They all helped with clearing the table, and then he produced his collection. Everything sparkled and shone. Lois had to admit that some of it was really attractive, and she picked up a delicate silver necklace with a single pearl drop.

  “You could try it on, if you like,” said Donald, and he walked round to fix the clasp at the back of her neck. The pearl nestled between her breasts, and she decided it would be foolish not to buy such a pretty thing. If Josie didn’t like it, she would have it herself.

  “How much does it cost?” she asked.

  “Trade price to you, Lois. We never know when we might have to call on your New Brooms services to us at a revised special rate! We sole traders must stick together.”

  “That’s the last one of those necklaces,” said Aurora.

  “Shouldn’t you keep it for the collection? I am sure there’s one with a blue stone set in faux diamonds that would suit Josie’s colouring,” Lois said.

  “No problem. I can easily order another pearl one,” said Donald. “It looks so good on you, Lois. Simple and elegant. You must have this one, dear.” He found a box, and the necklace was safe in Lois’s handbag. “Now, how about a pair of matching earrings?”

  Lois laughed. “Sorry, no more pocket money this week. I think earrings would be overdoing it, anyway. Thanks, Donald. I shall enjoy this, either on Josie or myself!”

  “Shall we have coffee now?” said Aurora, disappearing into the kitchen.

  As soon as she had gone, Donald drew up a chair next to Lois’s and spoke in a whisper. “She’s very upset by the murder in the hotel. The woman had some of my stuff in her bag. Not a direct seller, thank God. No, Aurora’s not quite herself. I expect you’ve noticed? We’re so glad Milly’s coming tomorrow. It’ll take her mind off it.”

  “Well, natural enough, I should have thought,” said Lois. “You being taken in for questioning, an’ that.”

  Donald shook his head. “I was hardly in the police station five minutes before they let me go. Watertight alibi, you see. And I’m not a liar, Lois. All true, and I have proof that I was up north all the time. Can you help me cheer her up? She’s very fond of you.”

  At this point, Aurora came back with a tray of coffee and set it down on the table. “What are you two whispering about?” she said lightly.

  “Cooking up a surprise birthday party for Lois,” said Donald.

  “Now it won’t be a surprise,” Aurora said, and ruffled his dark hair.r />
  “Oh, yes, it will,” he said, smoothing it back again. “Black or white coffee, Lois?”

  SIX

  Next morning, the necklace was examined by Gran and Derek, and pronounced very pretty and just the thing for Josie’s birthday. “I’ll get you another one, me duck,” said Derek, seeing Lois’s face. “That Donald Black, I’ll have a word with him. He’s coming over to the village hall, isn’t he?”

  “Now, how about this? It’s Josie’s birthday on Monday, so we can ask her and Matthew, if he’s not on duty, to come over for a meal,” Gran said.

  “Oh, he’ll be wanting to take her out for a treat, won’t he? What do you think, Derek?”

  “What about tomorrow lunch? We can tell her not to open the box until Monday.”

  “Fine,” Lois said. “I have to go down to the shop, so I’ll ask her then.”

  She went along to her office and set about sorting out her papers and schedules for the New Brooms meeting at twelve. She had rearranged the weekly meeting to be today instead of Monday, because of the birthdays. The girls and one young man would arrive in dribs and drabs, and then settle down to business. Lois’s team was much as it was when she set up the cleaning agency some while ago. One or two had left, and others taken their place, but they were largely the same happy group who respected Lois and enjoyed the work they carried out for clients around the county.

  Lois was born in Tresham on a council estate, where Gran and her husband had set up house, producing one beautiful girl. Gran always said that one like Lois was quite enough. Wayward and obstinate, refusing to knuckle down to schoolwork, Lois left when she was sixteen to work in Woolworths, where she caught the eye of the young electrician Derek Meade. He always said he courted her over the confectionary counter, and after a year or so going around together, they persuaded her mother and father to allow them to marry.

 

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