A Dash Of Pepper

by Sam Short

  “You’re quite good at this, Pepper,” said Agnes, sitting up straight. “It’s like listening to a female policeman.”

  “Policewoman,” said Geoffrey. “Not female policeman, Agnes.”

  “Whatever,” said Agnes. “Pepper sounds very professional, that’s all.”

  Pepper smiled her thanks. “Then,” she continued. “We have the sighting of the man in dark clothing, who we all witnessed sneaking around the allotments, and who we now think might have been Father Dominic. Add to that the fact that Agnes saw father Dominic today, and I think it’s him we should be concentrating on.”

  “And you’re as sure as Agnes that it was Father Dominic who broke into Stan’s shed?” asked Winston. “Because you recognised the smell of his aftershave? Is that possible? Is aftershave really that potent?”

  “Pepper has a nose for this sort of thing, Winston,” said Geoffrey. “I learned on the force never to underestimate somebody with hunches as strong as the one’s Pepper displays.”

  “Oh, I don’t disagree with her,” said Winston. “I mean, Agnes saw Father Dominic, too. I’m just amazed. I never knew that aftershave had that sort of lasting effect on ladies. Perhaps I’ll look into getting myself a little bottle or two when I’m next in the chemist shop. You know — to splash on my face when I go for a pint in The Bumpkin, or when I do my big shop on a Tuesday.”

  “It takes more than a fancy smell to attract the ladies,” said Geoffrey. “It takes personality and good looks, too.”

  “That must be why you’re single then, Geoffrey,” said Agnes, crossing her arms.

  “I’m single because I was wedded to my job for so long, Agnes,” said Geoffrey.

  “But your wife divorced you two months after you’d retired,” Agnes retorted.

  “Thank you, Agnes, for your input,” said Geoffrey, scowling. “But can we get back to the matter at hand, please? I think we’re all in agreement that Father Dominic needs to be asked a few questions, and I think we can all agree that we should inform Mary before we go any further. Are there any objections?” He waited a few moments and then nodded. “Good. Then we wait for Mary and break the news to her gently. She never misses gardening club. She’ll be here soon.”

  “And please make sure the news is broken gently,” said Agnes. “Mary hasn’t been herself for these last few weeks. She’s been very tearful and sensitive. I would never presume to ask her, but I think she may be having marital problems.”

  Pepper squirmed in her seat and focused on adding another sugar to her teacup in an attempt to prevent herself from drawing attention. She’d already decided that she wasn’t going to bring up what Mary had told her in confidence unless she absolutely had to.

  Agnes carried on. “She’s a very delicate creature. She should be handled accordingly.”

  “And that’s what we shall do,” said Geoffrey. “Don’t you worry yourself about it, Agnes.”

  Lifting her teacup, Agnes nodded. “Very well.”

  Winston stood up and walked to a table in the corner from where he took a metal biscuit tin. “I wish she’d hurry up and get here. It’s Friday evening. Mary always brings her best baking in on a Friday.”

  Eating stale biscuits and drinking string tea helped the time pass quickly, and it was Agnes who leapt to her feet when she heard the sound of an engine outside, forty minutes later. “That’ll be Dominic dropping her off,” she said, hurrying to the door which she opened a crack and peered out of. She gasped and stepped away from the door. “Something’s wrong!” she said. ‘She’s driven herself here, and she has no basket with her —”

  “No baking?” said Winston. “Now what will I do?”

  “Eat more biscuits, you greedy old pig!” snapped Agnes. She hurried back to her seat and sat down. “The lack of baking’s not the worst of it. The poor woman is in floods of tears.”

  “Do you think she knows what we know — about Dominic?” ventured Winston.

  “I don’t know,” said Agnes. “But what I do know is that we don’t mention it until we find out what’s wrong with her.” She put a finger to her lips as the door creaked open. “She’s here.”

  “So,” said Geoffrey, in a fake voice a few decimals louder than the one Pepper was used to hearing. “What do we think about these ‘air-plants’ which seem to be popular these days?”

  “I. Like. Them!” yelled Winston, speaking as if he was conversing with a particularly dim-witted person. He winked at Agnes. “What. Do. You. Think, Agnes?”

  Agnes shook her head in annoyance. “You two are so obvious!” She got to her feet and rushed towards the door as Mary made an appearance, her face a mess of lightly applied mascara and tears. She wasn’t just crying, though, she was sobbing loudly into a flowery handkerchief while clutching a screwed up piece of paper in the other hand.

  “Whatever has happened?” enquired Agnes, putting a hand on Mary’s shoulder and guiding her towards a chair. “Come and sit down. I’ll pour you a nice cup of tea.”

  Mary sobbed again but gave a quick nod. Then she looked towards Pepper. “Oh!” she said. “You’re here, Pepper.”

  Pepper bit her lip and ran a hand through her spikes. “Yes,” she said. “Would you like me to leave?”

  “Oh no!” said Mary. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was surprised that you’re here, that’s all. You said you didn’t want to join any clubs.”

  “I insisted on it,” explained Winston, puffing out his chest. “I won’t have non-members milling around the community hall when our club is in progress. It’s against the insurance policy, and I will not, as you know, break any rules or regulations!”

  “Oh, yes, Winston,” said Mary through a sniffle. “I know.”

  “Never you mind that, Winston,” snapped Agnes. “Can’t you see that poor Mary is beside herself? Pour her a tea, immediately. I think this calls for four sugars!”

  Mary shook her head as Agnes helped her sit down. “It’s not a four sugar problem. Three should do it, Winston.”

  Agnes pointed at the piece of paper which Mary held tightly in her hand. “Has that got something to do with what’s wrong, dear?

  Placing the screwed up piece of paper on the table, and straightening it out, Mary nodded. “Yes,” she said. “It’s an electricity bill for the church. I opened it before Dominic did, and it’s a good thing I did. He’d lose what’s left of his hair if he saw this! It must be a mistake! It’s the quarterly bill, but in the last two weeks the electricity company say the church has used more electricity than it has in the last three months combined! It’s not just this bill, either! The car engine is making a funny noise, too. It’s one thing after another!”

  “That bill must be a mistake!” said Winston, snatching the sheet of paper from the table. “Let me have a look.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Agnes, giving an approving nod and rubbing the back of Mary’s hand. “We may not be able to help you with car repairs, but Winston was an electrician for over forty years! He’ll make sense of that bill!”

  “I hope so,” said Mary. “Because I can’t show Dominic. The stress will kill him! He’s already worried sick about fixing the church roof without a bill like this landing on our doormat! We no longer get any financial help from the parish, you see. Churches are finding it very hard to raise money these days, so this is the last thing we need.”

  All eyes fell on Winston as he studied the bill. After a few nods of his head, and a couple of grunts, he looked up. “It all looks quite possible,” he said.

  “How can it be?” said Mary, dabbing at her eyes. “We hardly use any electricity at the church!”

  “I’ve seen this happen before,” he said. “Sometimes it’s a mistake, and sometimes it’s a faulty meter. Sometimes it’s accurate of course, but sometimes it’s because somebody has tapped into the electricity supply and is stealing it. Dominic’s church is near a lot of business properties and homes, and an old building like a church that’s only used a few times a week is a prime target for an elec
tricity thief.” He slid the paper across the table. “I could have a look for you if you like? I still have all the necessary equipment. It would save you having to wait for the electricity company to get their act together while your bill continues to climb.”

  “Oh! Would you, Winston?” said Mary. “That would be so kind of you! Thank you!” She looked down. “I don’t mean to be pushy, but when could you take a look? It would have to be when Dominic isn’t around of course.”

  “Tomorrow morning?” offered Winston.

  Mary nodded enthusiastically. “That would be wonderful. He won’t visit the church tomorrow morning. He’s taken up cycling, you see. He said he’s developing a middle-aged spread and that riding a bike will help fight it. He goes most nights and takes an especially long ride on a Saturday morning!”

  “Then it’s a date,” smiled Winston. “Is half-past-nine okay?”

  “Perfect,” said Mary. “And I’ll bake you some cookies tonight to say thank you!” She glanced around the table. “How about you all come? It would be nice to show you around the church, none of you have been there for a very long time. And you’ve never been there, Pepper. What do you say? I’ll bake plenty of goodies.”

  “That sounds lovely,” said Agnes. “I’ll be there.”

  “Me too,” said Geoffrey.

  “Pepper?” asked Mary.

  Pepper shrugged. “Why not?” she said.

  “Oh good,” said Mary, standing up. She smiled at the group. “I hope you won’t mind if I miss gardening club just this once. I’m all out of sorts, and I took the car without telling Dominic. I should get home.”

  Gently clearing his throat, Geoffrey smiled at Mary. “Actually, Mary, there’s something else I’d like to bring up with you. It’s about —”

  “Air-plants,” said Agnes. “But it can wait until tomorrow, Geoffrey. Can’t you see that Mary needs to get home?”

  “If you don’t mind, Geoffrey,” said Mary, dabbing another tear from beneath an eye. “Tomorrow would be better.”

  Geoffrey nodded. “Of course, Mary. Tomorrow it is then.”

  Chapter 24

  Pepper took a sip of her coffee and bit into her toast, licking salty Marmite from her top lip. She spoke with her mouth full, happy that the oak tree wouldn’t judge her lack of manners. “I’m embroiled in a mystery,” she explained. “I told you that a man had died, and I told you that I didn’t think it was an accident, but now I have a suspect. A respectable man. A vicar. At first, I suspected two brothers from Picklebury and two gardeners from the next town over the hill, but I don’t think any of them had anything to do with it.”

  Gazing out towards the distant hills, Pepper’s eyes followed the swooping flight of a swallow as it fed on insects which rose from the damp meadow grasses. “The vicar sounds like he has a jealousy problem, you see? He’s recently become paranoid and told his wife that he doesn’t like her speaking to other men. He specifically mentioned Stan, too — the man who died. And I’ve also found out that he was at the allotments on the day Stan died, as well as breaking into his shed on the day after. All clues point to him.”

  Pepper looked up into the branches, enjoying the mild warmth of the early morning sun which broke through the leaves and landed on her cheeks. “Do you think a vicar would kill a man because his wife spoke to him? I don’t know. But perhaps I’ll find out today. I’m going to his church with the rest of the club I accidentally joined.”

  She popped another piece of toast into her mouth and chewed as she watched a flock of jackdaws rising from a distant copse of trees, their frantic yells reaching her as they travelled along the valley on a breeze.

  She took her wand from inside her jacket and smiled as it burst into life, trickling bright green sparks from the tip. She guided the stream of green towards a tall thistle which towered over its smaller counterparts. When the spell took control of the prickly plant, Pepper toyed with it for a minute or so, giggling as the thistle danced from left to right as her spell controlled it.

  When she’d had enough of practising, she allowed the thistle to carry on its day, boosted by the potent earth magic which had enveloped it. She leaned back against the oak tree, where she remained for another twenty minutes, soaking up its welcome energy.

  Tossing the crusts which remained on her plate into the meadow, and glancing up at the crow who appeared to want Marmite on seeded toast for breakfast, Pepper smiled. “There you go. I hope you enjoy it again. I’m probably going to have marmalade tomorrow — chunky marmalade. You might like it — it’s bitter and sweet at the same time.”

  Unfazed by Pepper’s presence, the crow swooped from the branch it was perched on and began pecking at the toast.

  Even as Pepper stood up, the crow ignored her, sensing she was no threat to it. She put her hand on the tree. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promised. “Hopefully I’ll have shed more light on Stan’s death by then.”

  Pepper found the church quickly, honing in on the tall spire which soared from the trees and buildings which surrounded it. When she got there, Geoffrey’s car was already parked outside, and the tall doors at the top of the steps were wide open.

  Leaning her bike against the railings of the fence, Pepper retrieved her bag from the basket and slung it over her shoulder. As she walked past Geoffrey’s car, she made the mistake of glancing at the window, instinctively flinching as she caught a glimpse of her reflection.

  She looked away quickly, but it had been too late, she’d seen that her hair wasn’t as tidy as she’d thought it was. Reluctantly, she turned and faced the car again, bending as she gazed into the glass of the driver’s door window. Having chosen to wear her Rock Chick jacket, she felt emboldened by the confident face of Lita Ford who stared back from the patch on her breast pocket.

  Quickly tidying her hair, Pepper frowned. Was that another wrinkle beneath her left eye, or was it just a trick of the light? She shook her head and looked away from the glass. It didn’t matter, age was only a number after all, and wrinkles and creases told the life story of the person whose face they adorned.

  Confident that her spikes were in place, Pepper climbed the steps to the church, smelling musty books and wood before she’d even entered the old building. The interior, illuminated in reds and greens projected from the stained glass windows which lined the walls on either side of the two rows of pews, reminded her of one of the museums she’d visited in London with her sister.

  Although not religious, Pepper found a calmness washing over her as she stepped along the plush red carpet which led her towards the altar and the open door alongside it from which she could hear voices.

  As she gazed at the lectern, shaped like an eagle with open wings, a voice startled her. “I thought I heard footsteps!” said Mary, appearing in the doorway to Pepper’s right. “Come on through into the back, the others are already here. They all came in the same car, and Winston’s already hard at work solving my electricity bill problem.”

  Pepper nodded. “That’s good,” she said, following Mary from the ancient peacefulness of the old part of the building, and into the modernised interior of a large kitchen, complete with a table which looked like it could comfortably seat twenty people.

  At the end of the table, sat Geoffrey and Agnes, both with cups of tea in front of them, and balancing halfway up a step ladder, fiddling with the contents of a box fixed to the wall, was Winston.

  Geoffrey stood up as Pepper entered the room. “We had no way of getting hold of you,” he said. “We decided to come early, but we had no phone number for you, and we didn’t want to drive out uninvited to your cottage to collect you. That seemed rude.”

  “That’s fine. I’d much prefer to cycle,” said Pepper. “I find cars very stifling.”

  “Cup of tea?” offered Agnes.

  “And a bite to eat, of course,” smiled Mary, indicating the three plates laden with muffins and biscuits. “I know it’s early for cakes and cookies, but it is a Saturday, and I didn’t bring any bak
ing to the club last night. This will make up for it.”

  Pepper examined Mary’s face, guessing from the upbeat smile and the twinkle in her eye that nobody had yet to breach the subject of her husband being present at the allotments, both at the time Stan died, and then the day after.

  She sat down next to Geoffrey and thanked Agnes as she poured her a cup of tea. Taking her time to select a goodie from the plates, Pepper finally settled on a thick cookie crammed with chocolate chips, which crumbled when she snapped it into two and dipped one half into her tea. “Have you made any progress, Winston?” she asked, watching as the short man attached a clip to a wire and then stared at the screen of what Pepper guessed was a handheld meter.

  Winston twisted on the stepladder. He nodded. “The church meter is working just fine,” he said. “So the electricity company haven’t made a mistake. The power they billed the church for has definitely been used. In fact, there’s a lot of power being used right now. The meter is turning very quickly.”

  “But why?” said Mary. “I don’t understand. We use this kitchen once or twice a week at the most to feed the few homeless we have in Picklebury, and even then we only heat a big pan of soup which I prepare at home. The church itself is normally lit by candlelight, and the heating is gas, not electricity. Why is so much electricity being used?”

  Winston unclipped the wire from the box and closed the little wooden door. “Don’t you worry, Mary,” he said, climbing carefully down the ladder. “I’ll get to the bottom of it. It won’t take long. Let me finish my cup of tea and snack, and I’ll be right on it.”

  Noticing that Geoffrey was casting furtive glances in Agnes’s direction, Pepper took another bite of her cookie. She grabbed Geoffrey’s attention by raising her eyebrows, and as Mary turned the other way, she mouthed her question almost silently. “Have you told her about Dominic yet?”

  Geoffrey shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “No,” he mouthed back.