Scandal at Six (Lois Meade Mystery) Read online

  “I should take a look in the bag first,” he said.

  “Not if you want the creatures alive when you hand them over,” said Betsy. “They’re well wrapped, and this cold wind could see the end of them.”

  “Well, if you say so,” said the man, handing over a fat package. “Here’s the cash. They’d better be all right, else you’ll be hearing from us. When’s Pettison coming back? The boss sent his best wishes for a speedy recovery.”

  “I’ll tell him,” said Betsy, getting into her car. “Bye. Drive carefully.”

  *

  When she arrived home, Ted said there had been a message for her from the hospital. He sounded curious when he told her, and said quickly that she was to go in to see the boss as soon as possible.

  “Huh, well, he can wait,” Betsy said, flopping down into a chair. “I’m staying here for the rest of the day. Whatever it is, it’ll keep until tomorrow. And I’m sorry, Ted, I forgot to get the crumpets.”

  “Typical,” Ted replied sourly. “I suppose it’ll have to be toast and honey again.”

  “Very good for you, honey,” said Betsy.

  “Maybe we should keep bees, then,” Ted said. “My dad used to keep a hive, but Mum was dead scared and so he got rid of them.”

  Forty-one

  “Have you discovered where the shrews went?” said Josie to Justin as he came into the shop.

  “Oh yes, I’m sorry about that. I gave my key to a friend to use in an emergency while I was away, and she panicked, thinking they’d be better off in the zoo. I’m glad to say they’re now with a very caring customer. But thank you, anyway, for feeding them and making sure they were all right. I hope there’ll be no more animals to leave in the shed! Have a nice day, Josie. Bye.”

  And I hope I have a nice day too, he thought, as he went to collect the Fiat. I am certainly due for one. I suppose I shall have to visit Pettison and keep him up to date, although Betsy will no doubt have been in touch with him. I could shop her to Pettison for disobeying orders, but I can’t be bothered. Anyway, I expect she has a hold over him, their relationship being what it is.

  He laughed. “Good luck to them!” he said, and drove into the hospital car park feeling cheerful.

  Pettison soon changed his mood. He greeted him with the news that the shrews had turned out to be piebald mice, and he wanted an explanation. The noble lord had been furious, saying he did not intend to put mice into his menagerie of rare and beautiful animals. He required an explanation, and without it, there would be no more orders from him. All this had been conveyed by an intermediary, of course. The noble lord was too fly to be directly involved.

  “Menagerie?” said Justin. “What the hell is that? I thought they went out of fashion years ago.”

  “A very respectable pedigree,” said Pettison. “Sometime in the eighteenth century, when exploration was bringing back all kinds of strange plants and animals, every man of power and influence with a country estate had a menagerie, housed often in wonderful buildings, and far enough away from the main house to lessen the sound of tigers roaring and monkeys screaming. I tell no lie, Justin. You can read about them. That’s why I call my collection at the hall my menagerie. Only difference is that my animals in the menagerie are dead, and have been for a long, long time. Most of them. Now, my turn to ask the questions. Why did the elephant shrews turn into piebald mice?”

  “Don’t know, Uncle. They were locked up safely in the shed behind the shop, and when I came back from the funeral, they had gone. Josie Vickers knew nothing about their disappearance. But, as you probably know by now, I guessed and checked with Betsy. You had told me to give her a key, and she said yes, she had them, and would pass them on. My guess is that they died being transported from place to place, and Betsy, the silly woman, handed over substitutes.”

  “Very annoying,” said Pettison. “Between you two dolts, you have lost me a very valuable customer.”

  “Can’t you get some more elephant shrews?”

  Pettison shook his head. “No, that line of supply has been busted. This particular business is becoming more and more difficult, with all the ridiculous laws on importing supposedly rare animals. And self-righteous busybodies interfering.”

  “They have a point,” said Justin. “I read that ninety percent of animals imported from the wild, not bred in captivity, like you always say, die within the first year. I couldn’t sleep at night if I was as involved as you are.”

  “Oh, I think you are very involved, my boy,” said Pettison. “If, God forbid, I am ever required to take seriously the law of the land, I shall see that you come down with me. I shall need some congenial company.”

  “Let’s hope you can keep out of harm’s way, then. Now, I must be off. Last bits of paperwork at the solicitors to do with Father’s will.” He paused, and looked back. “That reminds me,” he said. “I want to talk to you about how my father had the bad luck to get drawn into your activities.”

  “What would you like me to say, Justin? You must know by now that from the start he knew all about it, was quite happy for his barn to be used for transit purposes, and agreed not to say a word to anyone. Is that good enough for you?”

  Justin had paled, and his hand trembled as he reached for his coat. “No, it is not. What did you use against him, to blackmail him into silence?”

  “Harsh words, Justin,” Pettison said, and shook his head. “It’s all a long time ago. Are you sure you want to know all such irrelevant details? We got along well together, your father and I. That’s all you need to know.”

  “No, it isn’t! My father was a God-fearing man, and I know for sure he would never willingly have done anything against the law.”

  “Oh well, if you insist. To begin at the beginning, we went to the same boarding school and were in cahoots with various schemes there. We delighted in lifting things from other boys who we considered could afford to lose them!” He laughed at the memory, but Justin’s scowl deepened.

  “Unfortunately, the school authorities took a serious view, and we were sent packing,” continued Pettison.

  “But that was when you were quite young boys, and I expect you bullied him.”

  “Perhaps, but the thing was, Justin old chap, your father’s family were as poor as church mice, and they were giving up everything to send him to a good school. They were heartbroken when we got the sack, and I helped your father out with finances for a while. We kept in touch, as you know, from then on. He was grateful, and when I needed his help, he was only too pleased to oblige.”

  Pettison closed his eyes and subsided onto his pillows. “There were other schemes, too, dear boy, but now, off you go,” he said in a weak voice. “I need some sleep. Easily tired, you know. Tell the nurse I need her, on your way out.”

  Justin was still shaking with rage when he got back into the Fiat. For a long while he sat and stared out of the window at the brick wall of the hospital. His misguided father had kept Pettison’s lousy secrets to the end! No wonder he had always seemed so worried when Justin asked awkward questions.

  And now look at us! Justin caught a glimpse of himself in the driving mirror and shivered. My father is dead, no doubt comforted with the thought that his secrets would die with him. But Pettison had revived them, and Justin could be in the same soup as his father, unless he could think of a way out.

  “I’ll make you pay, Robert bloody Pettison!” he shouted to the empty car. “See if I don’t, you old fool!”

  He put the Fiat into gear, moved out of the car park, and turned in the direction of the zoo.

  *

  Lois was on her way to see Dot Nimmo. She had given her permission to help out when required at the zoo, and she intended to add the cost to Pettison’s bill. She saw the Fiat driving off up to the hall, and wondered why Justin should be heading that way when his uncle was in hospital. It could have been someone else, of course. Those little cars were very popular now. She waved to Margie Turner and drove on into the zoo park. There she got out
of her car to find a familiar figure waiting for her.

  “Morning, Lois. I didn’t expect to see you here.” It was Inspector Cowgill, smiling fondly at her. “Are you well, my dear? And how’s the new flat tenant doing?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. And wasn’t that Justin Brookes on his way to the hall? I need to see him,” she improvised, “about a matter of access to the garden behind the shop. Are you hanging around here for a purpose, or have you developed a fondness for snakes?”

  “Something like that,” said Cowgill. “Shall we have a coffee when you’ve finished with Brookes? I’ll meet you in the café.”

  “Is it urgent?” said Lois. “I do have to get back to the office. Things I have to see to with Hazel.”

  “Um, let me see. Shall we say in half an hour? Be there, please, Lois.”

  Lois frowned. That was very unlike Hunter Cowgill. Definitely not so pliable this morning. Maybe it is something important.

  She found Dot measuring out feed for the chimpanzees and asked her if she could spare a minute.

  “Yes, but only a minute. I’ve been told the chimps can get very nasty if they’re hungry. What is it, Mrs M?”

  “Can you come and see me this afternoon, then? I need to discuss something with you. Are you going up to the hall later?”

  “No, not today. I’ll probably go up and have a dust around tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

  “Yep, but we do need to get you back to our usual schedules, Dot. It doesn’t look as if Pettison is coming home soon, and the girls, and Andrew, are anxious to get back to their usual routines. They appreciate that things are a bit difficult at the moment, but I said I was sure you would understand.”

  “Right. You’re the boss, Mrs M. Can we discuss it this afternoon? I need to get this stuff to those gibbering idiots before they wrench my arm off.”

  “Chimps? Yeah, well, they don’t all dress up in frilly pinafores and serve afternoon tea. Like on the telly. They can be rough, I know.”

  “I was exaggerating a bit, as usual. The keeper’s shut them up until I’ve finished, thank God! The fully grown ones can be really violent. And they’re very strong! That cleaning woman who got savaged by this lot is a lot better, so they say here. She’s lucky to be alive, if you ask me. So off I go, bravely into the lion’s den! See you this afternoon, Mrs M.”

  Thinking that Dot Nimmo would be equal to any chimpanzee, however strong, Lois turned to leave. Then, as planned, she decided to go up to the hall and have a nose around while she was there. She would make a list of things for Dot to concentrate on, and then be off home.

  The Fiat was there, round the back of the building, and Lois parked nearby. She went through the unlocked back door into the kitchen, and yelled, “Yoo-hoo! Justin! Are you there? It’s only me, Lois Meade. Just checking on jobs for Dot.”

  There was no reply, and she guessed he must be out of earshot. Fine. She’d come across him sooner or later back in the village. She made her way around the ground floor, making notes. It was surprising how dusty and unattractive a place could look when nobody was living there. She came to Pettison’s office and stopped. The door was closed. He couldn’t be in there, since he was safely tucked up in hospital. She gently pushed open the door.

  She stopped at once, seeing a figure kneeling by an open drawer in the filing cabinet. The figure turned in alarm, and she saw that it was Justin, with piles of letters of all kinds stacked around in little heaps on the floor.

  “What the hell do you want?” he said in a scared voice. “Get out! This room is private.”

  “I know it is, but private for Pettison, surely. And since you ask, I’m making notes for when Dot Nimmo comes back to work. It’s already dirty and dusty everywhere.”

  Justin scrambled to his feet, and she began to feel nervous, and turned to leave the room.

  “Come back here, Mrs Meade,” he said. “I do need to explain to you. Perhaps you should get on with your work and forget you’ve seen me here, and we could talk later.”

  Lois stopped. “I’ll do no such thing,” she said. “Unless you give me a good explanation now why I should do so.”

  He walked towards her nodding, and she retreated.

  “I guess I owe you an apology,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that riffling through Uncle’s papers is not something I wanted to be caught at. The fact is, I’m looking for letters between him and my father. Things were not good for my dad, and I’m hoping to put it right. Sorry, Mrs Meade. Could we sit down for a moment, and I’ll try to explain? It is quite a long story.”

  They sat down on the sagging sofa, and he told her as briefly as he could how his father had been blackmailed by Pettison, and now he was in the same situation. When he finally stopped talking, she stood up and said she would have to think about everything. “I’ll give you a call later,” she said, and walked towards the door. He was choking, near to tears, and as she looked back at him, she tripped, cracking her head on a stone step as she fell.

  Justin stooped over her, frantically checking that she was still alive, and then lifted her up with difficulty. He staggered back into the drawing room, where he almost dropped her onto the sagging sofa. Then he sat down on a nearby chair, breathing heavily, pulled out his mobile and dialled emergency.

  He grabbed a moth-eaten rug from a pile by the fireplace, and covered her with it, looking anxiously into her face for signs of movement. Her colour was definitely improving. She’s very pretty in repose, he thought abstractedly. He wondered what his uncle Pettison thought of her. Probably all he could see was a dangerous enemy. He had plenty of those, the old fool. “Now, I must make a plan, and carry it out,” he muttered.

  He checked Lois’s breathing, and looked at his watch. Could it be only five minutes since he called the ambulance? An unpleasant thought struck him. After this, he would no doubt have to look for another place to live.

  Forty-two

  Hunter Cowgill sat in the Zoo Café, looking at his watch. It was unlike Lois to be late. Still, she had been reluctant to meet him, saying she was busy. Probably a very small act of rebellion! She had probably gone back home.

  He got to his feet, thinking he would see her later. He had a couple of snippets of information for her, but they could wait. Waving to Margie as he went out, he headed for the centre of town.

  Meanwhile, in the kitchen at Meade House, Gran was also checking the clock. It was long past the time Lois should have returned, and she now heard Derek’s van arriving. He would likely know what had happened to Lois. Maybe something wrong with her van, and she’d got a lift home with him.

  But when he came into the kitchen, apologising for being late, he knew nothing about Lois’s absence. “Have you tried Hazel in the Tresham office?” he said now.

  “No, I didn’t think of that. You know how she hates to be checked up on.”

  Derek dialled the number, and after a few words with Hazel shook his head, and said to Gran that she hadn’t showed up there. Due to do so, but she hadn’t even popped in.

  “It’s possible she’s broken down somewhere and forgotten her mobile.” He went upstairs to their bedroom and, sure enough, found the phone lying on the dressing table. Odd, he thought. Her mind must have been on other things. He returned to the kitchen, and said they might as well have lunch, and then he’d do some more enquiring if she hadn’t turned up.

  Conversation limped along as they ate shepherd’s pie and peas, and in the end, Derek said he couldn’t fancy any pudding, and went off into Lois’s office to look for clues to where she might be.

  *

  In the drawing room at the hall, Justin stared at Lois. Her colour was definitely better, and her breathing regular. He willed her to wake up. It was after lunchtime, and someone would be bound to be looking for her. He went over to take a closer look. Although she looked much better, her eyes were still closed. Perhaps he should take her into hospital himself?

  He went outside to check on the Fiat. He’d never be able to man
handle her into that! Her own van was still there, and the key dangling from the door. Obviously not worried about car thieves. But now he could cancel the ambulance and take her in her own van with not too much trouble, and straight to the emergency department. He could then leave her there, and scoot off out before they asked him any questions. Feeling more optimistic, he once more lifted her up.

  God, she was heavy! He struggled out to the car, where he had left the door open. With great difficulty, he heaved her into the passenger seat, and stood back to take a few deep breaths. Then he went back to the kitchen door and went inside and checked that he had put his uncle’s office back into good order. He called the ambulance service, had a last look inside, and closed and locked the kitchen door. In the intervening few minutes, Lois had opened her eyes, slid across to the driving seat, started the engine and was well away down the drive before Justin could recover from his astonishment and chase after her.

  Now, happily on the way home, Lois laughed aloud. That was easy! All she had to do was pretend to be still out cold, and then wait for a suitable opportunity. Her head ached, and when she put her hand up, her fingers came back stained with blood. Soon fixed, she thought. She had already cooked up a story for Gran and Derek, who, if he knew the truth, would probably explode, and steam off into Tresham to teach Justin a lesson he wouldn’t forget. She drove into Meade House yard, switched off the car engine and got out.

  She could see Gran and Derek inside the kitchen, and, feeling a little dizzy, she opened the door and managed a greeting, before her head spun, and she fell straight into Derek’s arms.

  “Lois! What on earth has happened to you?” Gran rushed round to help him, and together they got her onto a kitchen chair, where she rubbed her eyes and said she was perfectly okay.