Scandal at Six (Lois Meade Mystery) Page 8

  Justin had taken up residence in the county town of Tresham some years ago, when he had first formed a business relationship with his uncle, Robert Pettison, housing small creatures at the Lincolnshire farm until he could collect them. There were empty barns and stables, so it was no problem.

  Justin was getting very fed up now with having to share his room with creepy crawlies. As Robert’s valuable consignments grew in number, he had to move. He often had to do a holding job for a day or two, as they had to be kept out of sight. Many were rare, and some nigh on extinction, illegally obtained from the wild, and Robert did not want them examined too closely before moving them on to rich customers. Justin opened the local paper and turned to the houses and flats to see if the one over the Farnden shop was in.

  Nothing suitable presented itself at first, so he made himself a coffee and took up the evening paper. Flats to buy and rent. Ah, that should be it! His eye was caught by a name he recognised. There it was: Long Farnden, and the one he meant to take on. The details sounded promising. A one bedroom flat, with parking and a garden. No particulars of rent required, but a telephone number to contact, and he called straightaway to make an appointment to view.

  There was no estate agent involved, so no need to leave his name and particulars. It sounded as if the owner had inserted the ad, and so he hoped for a reasonable rent.

  “Good morning! Long Farnden village shop. How can I help you?”

  Ah! The charming young shopkeeper herself, thought Justin. He announced his interest in the flat, using his old public school voice, and asked if he could come over and take a look.

  “Yes, that will be satisfactory,” said Josie.

  “This morning? I have to be in your area,” said Justin.

  “No, I’m afraid it will have to be after shop hours. The flat is above the shop, you see. Also, I need the owners, one or other of them, to be present. Perhaps you could come about six o’clock? We are in the high street, and you can’t miss the shop!”

  Oh, you can be sure I know where the shop is, thought Justin, but he thanked Josie for her information and said he would see her at six o’clock sharp.

  *

  “We’ve got a prospective client for the shop, Mum, so can you be down here at six this evening?”

  Lois heard the excitement in Josie’s voice, and agreed at once. It was a big step, letting the flat over the shop to someone who could easily be a complete stranger. Derek had said that estate agents did all kinds of financial checks, and wouldn’t it be a good idea if they put their flat in agents’ hands? But Josie had said she was sure her questions would reveal the kind of character she would be dealing with, and took up Derek’s suggestion that either he or Lois should be with her when showing people around.

  “Man or woman?” asked Lois now.

  “Man. Sounded posh, but nice. Agreed at once to come after shop hours. Said it would suit him better, as he was here and there during the day. Anyway, he is the first, if you don’t count Gran, so we may get others. Must go now, Mum. Customer waiting.”

  Lois put down the phone and went off to the kitchen to find Gran. She needed to make sure her mother had no intention of resorting to her former plan of occupying the shop flat in the future. She was fairly sure the first experience had put her off for good, but she was equally sure that during a long life Gran had maintained a strongly held conviction that she was her own master and quite capable of making impulsive decisions, regardless of the inconvenience to other people.

  “It’s why you’ve never been president of the village Women’s Institute,” Derek had told her jokingly many times. “You can’t be trusted to do the right thing.”

  Gran had retorted that one man’s right thing was another man’s disaster, and she had every right to make up her own mind. So now Lois told her that a possible tenant for the flat was coming at six o’clock, testing her reaction.

  “I hope he’s not allergic to creepy crawlies,” Gran replied. “Or killer reptiles, for that matter. I trust you’ll not tell him about the snake and the toad? Not to mention the rat!”

  “So you’d not want to go back there and give it another try?”

  “Over my dead body!” she exclaimed. “Which it might very well be, if I was ever fool enough to set up house there again.”

  “Good, so that’s okay. Josie said he sounded posh, and nice with it, so let’s hope we’ve got the right one first time.”

  “He may be nice and posh, but that don’t mean anything. Anyway, what’s a posh, well-educated man want with a small flat over a village shop?”

  “That’s what we intend to find out, Mum. We’ll have a list of questions to ask, and Derek’s checking out what else we need to do. He’s done a job for an estate agent over Waltonby way, and he’ll help, Derek says.”

  “Not likely!” said Gran. “Estate agents are a crafty lot. He’ll want to take over the selling, and then you’ll be in for percentages, an’ all that.”

  “Yes, Mum,” said Lois, and retreated to her office.

  *

  Lunch hour in the shop was usually quiet. The morning shoppers had gone, and the big afternoon rush, when the schools turned out, was yet to come. Josie had a quick sandwich in the stockroom, listening to Radio Tresham for any news of the zoo accident. Pettison, being interviewed, was furious that the reporter asked how a visitor could be sure to see the vicious chimp attacker, and was comforted only by the fact that ticket sales, booked ahead for when the zoo opened again, were spiralling up to full capacity.

  So he’d been released by the police, thought Josie. They must have been satisfied with his denials of having anything to do with the cleaner’s unfortunate accident. He certainly sounded genuinely upset when the interviewer asked him about the victim.

  “Listening to the news?” Dot Nimmo had come in, and was grinning at Josie. “I reckon they’ve got a real problem on their hands. They can’t very well take a chimpanzee in for questioning, can they!” She laughed loudly, and then asked if anything new had come up.

  “Don’t think so,” said Josie. “That Pettison man was just being interviewed. He sounded very sorry for himself. Clearly on the side of his monkey person! But a very smooth operator, I reckon.”

  “You can say that again,” said Dot. “If you saw what I saw every week, rain or shine, opposite my front door, you’d see just what a smooth operator he is! Mind you, that woman is a right disgrace. He’s not always been the only gentleman caller, I can tell you! But he is now. Must cost him a bit. Ted Brierley—he takes care of her and he’s no fool. Clerk at the gasworks don’t bring in much. Now, Josie, can I have my raisin loaf and a pound of dairy butter? Thanks, dear. I’m off to see your mother now. I’m hoping to go cleaning at Cameroon Hall as soon as the fuss dies down.”

  “Bye, Dot,” said Josie, returning to her sandwich. Dot Nimmo was her mother’s favourite among the team of cleaners, she knew, and hoped that it would be safe to let Dot loose up at Pettison’s. After her mug of coffee, she thought it would be a good idea to have a quick look around the flat upstairs to make sure all was tickety-boo, as Gran said. No dead rats or squashed frogs. Or live chimpanzees. She steeled herself, and went upstairs, carrying an old golf club she kept handy, just in case.

  Seventeen

  At exactly six o’clock, Josie opened the shop door and greeted the prospective tenant.

  “Good evening,” he said. “So kind of you to allow me to see the flat. I am sure you must be tired after a long day in the shop.”

  “Not really,” said Josie, taken aback by the familiar young man stepping into her shop. “It’s not exactly a supermarket.”

  He laughed. “Well, that’s good for a start! I don’t think I could manage with a supermarket below me all hours of the day. No, this village looks very tranquil in the evening sunlight. I imagine in summer it is full of children and families?”

  “Depends,” said Josie, unwilling to let down her guard. “Most of ’em are indoors watching the telly. Anyway, if you don�
�t mind, we’ll wait for my Mum to come down from Meade House, up the road. And don’t I know you? Aren’t you the man with the theatre fliers?”

  She watched him closely as he wandered round the shop. When he smiled at her, saying she had a good stock of necessaries, which would be very useful, she saw that his eyes were a deep blue. Cornflower blue, she said to herself, and then felt awkward, as he continued to smile.

  The door opened, and she was relieved as Lois came in, breezily apologising for keeping them waiting.

  “Not at all, Mrs Meade,” said Justin, holding out his hand to shake hers. “Justin Brookes,” he introduced himself. “How do you do. Please don’t apologise. I am not in a hurry this evening.” To Josie, he made it sound as if every other evening he would spend in his club, or dining at the Ritz. She supposed it was because he was an actor.

  “You’ll know the village from your trips around,” she said, as they went upstairs to the flat. “But I don’t think you met my mother before.”

  “Not as far as I am aware. I tend to daydream, so my mother tells me. Do forgive me if we have met.”

  How lovely, thought Josie. Obviously the apple of his mother’s eye.

  How reassuring, thought Lois. A calculated mention of his mother?

  While Lois took him from the small sitting room into the even smaller bedroom, and then opened the doors of the kitchen and bathroom for him to peer in, Josie took in his beautifully tailored grey-flannel suit and absolutely correct shirt and tie. My, my, she thought. We’ll not do better than this, surely? She was aware, however, of her mother’s odd attitude. She was giving a discouraging running commentary of the flat’s problems, though luckily leaving out the wildlife infestation.

  “Charming!” said Justin, after they had inspected Thomas Crapper’s lavatory. “Worth a fortune, you know, those lovely flowery bowls!”

  “Then I hope you’re not planning to run off with it,” said Lois. “It weighs a ton, so I’m told. Otherwise we’d have changed it for something more modern. My husband is a very experienced craftsman, Mr Brookes, but even he turned down the job! Anything from lethal security systems to formidable rat traps, Derek can handle them all. But so far, Thomas Crapper has defeated him.”

  Justin shivered, and hoped they hadn’t noticed. This Mrs Meade was certainly living up to her reputation. He laughed, though he knew she hadn’t meant it as a joke. “Very useful, I am sure,” he said. “Now, shall we look at the garden you mention in the advertisement?”

  Downstairs and out into the garden, with Lois leading the way, Justin reckoned he’d be fine with the daughter, but was not at all sure about her mother. Lois was giving off strong signals of suspicion, and he decided to maintain a cool politeness, without too much enthusiasm. After all, uppermost in their minds must surely be the rent, so far not mentioned.

  “You could have the use of the shed there,” Josie said. “It’s a bit scruffy, but it does lock. We don’t keep any shop stock there because of the damp. But you might be able to fix that? Or we could get Dad to do it.”

  “That looks most useful,” Justin said. “I am quite happy to damp proof, so long as my handiwork is satisfactory!”

  “And over there is the parking place. No garage, I’m afraid, but once the garden gate is locked, it’s all quite secure.”

  “Excellent,” said Justin. “Now, perhaps we could go back in and talk about finance. The rent was not mentioned in your advertisement, and I would like to settle everything in advance, if that is satisfactory.”

  “I’m afraid my husband is not back from work, but he will let you know the rent and the financial side of it,” Lois said. “We do have two more applicants coming tomorrow,” she lied. “And, of course, we shall need references. My husband will deal with all that, once we have made the necessary checks.”

  Blast! thought Justin. He had wanted to clinch the deal straightaway. The shop flat would be ideal for his purposes, with the garden shed. Josie had obviously taken to him, so his chances were good. He had no alternative but to agree, and said he would look forward to hearing from them very soon. References could be delivered to them tomorrow.

  *

  He drove back to Tresham and his cluttered bed-sitter, changed out of his good suit, and pulled on some jeans and a sweater. There were rehearsals this evening, and he meant to look in. His time at drama school had not been wasted. Although he had not exactly made it to Carnegie Hall, he had a pleasant tenor voice and loved to sing. He often joined the chorus when the troupe put on a pantomime.

  After a sausage roll and baked beans, he remembered he had to report to his uncle Robert. He would be much taken up with the drama of the woman in the monkey cage, but he had still found time to send a message to Justin to make sure the shop flat was his, even if it meant offering a little more than the asking price for rent.

  “Hello? Uncle Robert, is that you? Can I come over and let you know how I got on with the very lovely Lois Meade and her equally lovely daughter? And I need a couple of references. Just up your street! Splendid. See you in half an hour or so.”

  *

  “I’m not too sure about him,” said Josie. “I thought he was lovely, though a bit too smooth. What did you think, Mum?”

  Gran and Lois sat on one side of the kitchen table, and Josie and her father the other.

  Lois frowned. “Perhaps. But that’s the way they are these days. And if, as you say, he is an actor, then I suppose he can put it on whenever he likes.”

  “Well, we’ll see what Derek thinks,” said Gran. “When are you going to see him, boy?”

  “I think I can find time tomorrow afternoon,” Derek said. “Now, let’s talk about rent, and leases, and references and all of that. Then I shall be well prepared. As for his true identity, we can easily check. Now, Josie, you’d best be off back home. Matthew will be wondering if you’ve left him for good.”

  After she had gone and Gran had retired to her bedroom, Lois and Derek sat on at the table for a while, pencilling out figures and deciding on questions to be asked.

  At last Lois yawned, and said she was tired and ready for bed. “Derek,” she said, “don’t you wish we’d never decided to let the flat? It gets more and more complicated. And Josie’s not wholly happy about that Justin Brookes.”

  “The money would be useful, me duck, and although I see your point, I think we should give him a go, provided everything else is in order. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “That’s what worries me,” said Lois.

  Eighteen

  Pettison’s ex-cleaner, Mrs Richardson, lived in one of the many back streets in Tresham, with long rows of redbrick terraced houses in a ribbon of doors and windows from one end to another. The only distinguishing features were variations in front door colours and closed or open curtains.

  The Richardson front door was bright red, and what were called the nets were permanently drawn to protect from prying eyes on the pavement, but without shutting out too much light. Mrs Ruth Richardson was a good housewife, and friendly with her neighbours.

  Her husband, Tom, was sitting with a neighbour now, talking about his early days. “We met after I came out of the forces. Professional soldier, I was. But then I met Ruth, and fell for her straightaway. We got together, and I came out of the army. Took up gardening, and that’s my life now, as you know from my greenhouse next door!”

  “And you do a wonderful job at Cameroon Hall. Beautiful gardens there.” The neighbour stopped, aware that they were getting dangerously close to talking about the zoo. “What about children?” she asked, and then realised that wasn’t very tactful, either. There had never been any young Richardsons in this house, and as far as she knew, there weren’t any visiting.

  “Less said about that, the better,” Tom said. “How about a bit of cake? There’s some in the tin. Ruth had a baking session on Sunday morning. Oh my God,” he added, his face crumpling. “She won’t make no more cakes for a while, will she?”

  The neighbo
ur struggled to find another subject to talk about, aside from Tom’s damaged wife, still detained in hospital. Rumours were flying up and down the street, and she was longing to ask Tom more pertinent questions. One such rumour was that he had intended to do his wife in, and conceal the body in his wheelbarrow at the hall. This had been elaborated as it went from house to house, and by the time it reached the red front door, the muddled report was that Tom intended to plant her among the wallflowers, but was interrupted by sounds of voices, and in a panic had tipped her out into the zoo’s monkey cage, meaning to collect her later. But he’d not been able to do this before she was discovered, so he’d disinfected his wheelbarrow and gone home.

  Luckily, before she could ask him any more questions, Tom said that he didn’t feel like cake, and he’d have a bit of a rest. So the neighbour went home, saying he was to knock at her door at any time of day or night.

  *

  Two streets further along, Dot Nimmo sat by her front window, keeping watch over the fancy woman’s house. It was late by the time Dot had finished her New Brooms work for the morning. She made herself a sandwich and resumed her seat. She had noticed Pettison’s van when she returned home, and it was still there. She wondered if he was confessing all to the lovely Betsy. As she took her first bite, the front door was flung open, and the little mild husband was ejected with some force. The door was then slammed shut, and Dot saw the poor cuckold pick himself up, dust himself down and attempt a nonchalant air as he walked down the street.

  “Poor little devil!” she said to herself, and went back to the kitchen to collect a coffee cooling on the table. By the time she got back to her chair, she saw that Pettison’s van, so conspicuous with its snarling tiger, had gone. So he’d made it, after all.

  As she washed up the few dishes, she thought about the zoo boss. She prided herself on being able to get on well with all of the New Brooms clients, and she looked forward to meeting him. Mrs M seemed confident, and it surely would not be too long before the zoo reopened to the public.