“Oh, yes, that’s it exactly. I only heard part of the conversation, but it sounded suspicious to me.” He finished his tea and picked up another biscuit.
Janet swallowed a sigh. “What was said, exactly?” she asked as Joan refilled the man’s teacup.
“I’m not sure I remember the exact words, but from what I could make out, it sounded very much as if they were discussing planting, well, planting things that aren’t legal in this country.”
“What do you mean?” Joan asked.
“Drugs,” Stuart replied. “Or rather, the plants that can be used to make certain drugs. As I said, I didn’t hear the whole conversation, but that’s what I believe they were discussing, anyway.”
“That seems very much the sort of thing the police would want to know about,” Janet said.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Stuart sighed.
“Robert is a very nice man and an excellent constable,” she added. “I’m not sure why you didn’t go to him immediately.”
Robert Parsons was the local constable charged with policing both Doveby Dale and the neighbouring village of Little Burton. He was young, but smart and kind, and Janet thought he was doing an excellent job.
“I’m sort of trying to avoid the police, especially after all that trouble a few months back. Mary is still upset with how she thinks the police treated me,” Stuart admitted.
Janet nodded. Stuart hadn’t been arrested or accused of any wrongdoing, but he’d been questioned extensively when money had been stolen from a charity fundraiser that he’d helped organise. “But we don’t want anyone growing anything illegal in Doveby Dale,” she said.
“Yes, I know, but, well, there’s another reason why I didn’t just ring Robert,” Stuart said. He picked up another biscuit and took his time with it. As he washed it down with more tea, Janet thought about taking the tea things away from the man and demanding that he get on with the story.
“What was that other reason?” Joan asked as Stuart reached towards the biscuit plate yet again.
“I never did get a good look at the men whose voices I heard, but I saw them getting into their car a short while later. I recognised the car, you see.”
“Whose car was it?” Janet asked quickly, before Stuart could start eating again.
“I don’t know if you know Martin Lawley? He has a small farm on the outskirts of the village. It may even cross the border between Doveby Dale and Little Burton. It’s been in his family for generations. Anyway, it was Martin’s car.”
“Was Martin one of the men having the conversation?” Janet asked
“Oh, no. These men were much younger, or at least they sounded much younger. Martin is probably in his late seventies. These men didn’t sound anywhere near that old.”
“Does Mr. Lawley have children?” Joan wondered.
“Not of his own. He has a stepson, but last I knew Nick was living and working in Manchester.”
“Could one of the men have been this Nick?” was Janet’s next quick question.
Stuart shrugged. “I haven’t seen the man in years, and as I said, I didn’t get a look at the two men who were talking in the garden centre, either, but I suppose that’s one possibility.”
“You should talk to Robert,” Janet said.
Stuart nodded and began to eat another biscuit. Janet grabbed a custard cream and followed suit.
“You know Robert will conduct a very discreet investigation,” Joan said.
“Yes, I suppose so. I just don’t want to get Martin into any trouble.”
“He’ll be in even more trouble if his stepson starts growing drugs on his farm,” Janet pointed out.
“I just wish I would have heard more of the conversation,” Stuart sighed. “I may have completely misunderstood what was being said.”
“As I said, Robert will be discreet, but it should be investigated, just in case,” Joan said.
“I was thinking maybe I should take a ride out there,” Stuart said. “It’s not a very big farm. It would only take a few minutes to drive around the place and just, I don’t know, see if there are any signs of anything. Martin hasn’t planted anything in his fields for years. He just uses them for grazing a handful of cows and sheep. It wouldn’t take long to spot any clearing or anything that might be happening.”
“But it could be dangerous,” Joan said. “If his stepson is planning to start growing drugs out there, he isn’t going to want anyone snooping around.”
“I just want to be more certain of what I heard before I go to Robert. I may have completely misinterpreted what they were discussing. Perhaps I should go and visit Martin. I owe him a visit anyway.”
“I don’t suppose he knew Alberta Montgomery?” Janet asked.
“He may have,” Stuart said. “He’s old enough to have done so, anyway.”
Janet nodded. Alberta had once lived in Doveby House, and Janet was convinced that it was Alberta’s ghost that screamed in the night when the moon was full. While Janet had been told the basics of Alberta’s story, she was eager to find out more. An entire box filled with the woman’s diaries and letters had been found in the carriage house, but Joan didn’t think it was appropriate for them to read through the items in the box. Janet was eager to find any of Alberta’s relatives. She was secretly hoping they might agree to let Janet read the contents of box and maybe even write a book about their relation.
“I’ve been trying to reach Gretchen Falkirk, but she never answers her phone and she doesn’t seem to have an answering machine,” Janet said.
“Oh, she wouldn’t,” Stuart said. “She’s not one for embracing modern technology. She’s always kept to herself, but she keeps herself busy. Did you want to ask her about Alberta, then?”
“I want to ask everyone and anyone about Alberta,” Janet exclaimed. “But no one seems to want to talk to me.”
“You could come with me to see Martin,” Stuart suggested. “We could see if his stepson is visiting and whether or not he was one of the men I overheard. I’m sure Martin wouldn’t mind if we took a drive around the farm after our visit, either. We could tell him that you wanted to see it.”
“Ring Robert,” Joan said. “This is a police matter.”
“Or maybe it isn’t,” Stuart replied. “It might just be me getting things muddled up. I’ve known Martin for a long time and I can’t believe that he’d let his stepson do anything illegal on his property. I’m going to go and see Martin, whether Janet comes with me or not.”
“You shouldn’t go alone,” Janet said quickly. “I’ll come, too.”
“Well, I don’t approve,” Joan said tightly. “You’ve no idea what’s going on at the farm. Maybe Martin isn’t even there at the moment and his stepson has taken over. You could walk into a huge drug manufacturing operation or something.”
“I’m sure that isn’t the case,” Stuart said. “But if it will make you feel better, I’ll ring Martin and ask him if we can visit. If he says no, I’ll ring Robert immediately.”
Joan frowned. “I suppose that’s better than the pair of you just showing up on his doorstep, but I still don’t like it.”
“Let’s see what Martin says when Stuart rings him,” Janet suggested. “That may tell us everything we need to know.”
“I’ll just ring him now, from here, then, shall I?” Stuart asked.
Joan pressed her lips together and glared at Janet. “Use this phone,” Janet suggested, gesturing towards the phone on the kitchen wall.
Stuart dialed the number from memory. Sitting at the table, Janet could just hear it ringing on the other end.
“Hello?” a man’s voice said loudly.
Stuart pulled the phone away and frowned at it. “Martin? It’s Stuart, Stuart Long,” he after he’d returned the receiver to his ear.
“Stuart?” the other man shouted back. “What can I do for you?”
“I was just talking with the lovely sisters who now own Doveby House,” Stuart replied. “We were talking about Alberta Montgomer
y.”
“Eh? Pardon? I can’t hear very well,” Martin yelled.
Stuart repeated himself more loudly while Janet grabbed another biscuit. Joan frowned at her.
“Oh, Alberta, yes, what about her?” Martin said finally.
“We were wondering if you remembered her?” Stuart told him.
“Oh, aye, of course I do. She was almost royalty to us.”
“Would you be willing to talk to my friends about her? Maybe we could come out and visit you at the farm?” Stuart suggested.
“Visit me? Here? Sure, I don’t see why not. Bring biscuits, though. My stepson is staying with me now and he’s eaten everything sweet in the house.”
Stuart laughed. “We’ll bring something nice for tea. How about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow at two would work,” Martin said. “As would just about any other time. I’m retired, you know. I don’t do anything all day.”
“We’ll see you around two,” Stuart replied.
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” the man shouted before banging the phone down in Stuart’s ear.
He returned the phone to the wall and then shrugged. “He didn’t seem any different, just deafer.”
“That might make our conversation difficult,” Janet said.
“It also means that his stepson and his associates could be discussing things right in front of the man that he knows nothing about,” Joan suggested. “I still think the whole idea is dangerous.”
“We’ll be fine. You’ll know exactly where we are. If we aren’t back here by half three, you can send Robert in,” Janet said. “Or maybe we should say four o’clock. I suspect I’m going to have to repeat myself a lot.”
Joan shook her head. “I don’t like it,” she said crossly.
The doorbell saved Janet from having to reply. As Joan went to open the door, Janet let Stuart out the back way and then quickly took the vases of flowers up to the guest room. Aggie was pacing around the first floor corridor.
“I know, I know. Now that the guests are here, you want to hide in my room,” Janet said. She put the flowers where they belonged and then let Aggie into her bedroom. When she heard voices on the stairs, she shut her bedroom door and stood just inside it, listening carefully to the conversation in the corridor.
“We’ve put you in the Montgomery Room,” Joan was saying. “You have the key to your door and also to the front door of Doveby House. That way you can come and go as you please.”
“It’s rather small,” a nasal voice that could have been male or female complained.
“I’m sorry, but it’s the only room we have available at the moment. We generally take bookings several months ahead,” Joan replied.
“Then it will have to do,” a different voice, this one definitely female, said. “I just hope I don’t get too claustrophobic in here.”
“There are several large hotels near Derby if you don’t think this will suit you,” Joan said.
“I don’t want to spend my time looking for a hotel room,” the nasal voice snapped. “We’ll stay here. We just won’t like it.”
Janet frowned. Their new arrivals didn’t sound at all pleasant. She had to hope that they’d spend most of their time sightseeing or doing other things well away from Doveby House.
“As I said, this is the only room we have available,” Joan said stiffly. “The en-suite is just through there.”
“It’s small, too,” the woman complained. “But at least it’s all clean. I suppose we’ve stayed in worse places. I just can’t remember any at the moment.”
“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Joan told them. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Not likely,” the nasal voice replied. “But we’ll see.”
Janet listened to her sister’s footsteps as she went down the stairs. After a minute, she heard the bedroom door across the hall slam shut. She opened her door a crack and peeked out. The corridor was empty.
“You were smart to hide when you did,” she told Aggie.
“Meerrowww,” Aggie replied, settling into her cat bed for a rest.
Janet slipped out and locked the door behind her. Quickly making her way down the stairs, she stopped to lock the library door before she found Joan in the kitchen.
“I overheard the conversation in the corridor,” she told her sister. “Our new guests sound as if they’re going to be hard work.”
“On the plus side, they’ve upset me so much that I’ve nearly forgotten to be cross with you about your going to meet Martin Lawley,” Joan replied.
Chapter 3
Joan made shepherd’s pie for dinner. They were still eating when their new guests walked into the kitchen.
“We’ve unpacked as best we can,” the man said in his nasal whine. “There isn’t very much storage space in the room, either.” He was exactly what Janet had been expecting from his voice, a short, thin, unhappy-looking man in his late fifties or early sixties. He was wearing brown trousers and a brightly coloured and patterned shirt that seemed completely unlike something he would have chosen.
“I’m Janet,” Janet said, ignoring his remark. She stood up and held out a hand.
He stared at her hand for a moment and then touched it with his fingertips. “I’m Malcolm Armstrong, and this is my wife, Judith,” he said, nodding at the woman next to him. She was slightly taller than her husband and probably twice his weight. Her scarlet red dress was printed with what looked like tiny parrots all over it. Janet wanted to get closer to get a better look.
Judith nodded at Janet, but kept her hands in her pockets. Janet sat back down at the table and took a bite of her dinner. It was rude to eat in front of the guests, but she didn’t care.
“Where can we get some dinner?” Malcolm asked. “We’d prefer something reasonably priced, but exceptional.”
Wouldn’t we all, Janet thought to herself. She looked over at Joan, who was frowning. Janet could guess what her sister was thinking. They could send the couple to the café up the road where the food truly was excellent, but then poor Todd and Ted, the owners, would have to deal with the unpleasant pair. She and Joan both liked Todd and Ted a great deal. Neither of them wanted to subject them to the Armstrongs.
“There are only a few restaurants in Doveby Dale,” Joan said. “What sort of food do you fancy?”
“Oh, we don’t want to eat in Doveby Dale,” Malcolm scoffed. “We’ll drive into Derby, of course. The food will be better there. Is there anywhere you can recommend?”
“We rarely go into Derby,” Joan told him. “We prefer to give our business to our friends in Doveby Dale.”
“Yes, well, I suppose that’s more affordable for you, isn’t it?” Malcolm sneered. “We’ll just have to go and see what we can find.”
“Good luck,” Janet told them as they left the room.
Joan got up and followed behind them, no doubt to make sure that they locked the door when they left. When she came back into the kitchen, she was shaking her head.
“They didn’t lock the door, did they?” Janet asked her.
“They didn’t even shut it,” Joan replied. “I stayed back far enough that they couldn’t have known I was behind them, but they walked out of the house and went off to their car, leaving the front door wide open.”
“They’re terrible. If they ever ring again, make sure that you tell them that we’re fully booked.”
“I’ve already added them to my list,” Joan assured her. “Monday can’t get here fast enough. I’ve already had enough of those two.”
“At least the Fordhams are nice people,” Janet said. “Perhaps the Armstrongs will be out as much as the Fordhams are and we won’t have to deal with them very much.”
“I have to make them breakfast every morning,” Joan sighed. “I wonder if they’d prefer to eat in their room. I’d rather they take their food up to their room than have to share my kitchen with them.”
“Feed them in the dining room,” Janet suggested. “We never use it, but
they’re the perfect guests for it.”
“You may be right about that.”
While Janet loaded the dishwasher after dinner, Joan started pulling out flour and sugar.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m just a bit upset about the Armstrongs. I’m going to bake something. That always makes me feel better.”
“What will you make?” Janet asked excitedly.
“I thought I might try the American brownies from Bessie’s recipe. Either that or a chocolate cake. Which would you prefer?”
“Let’s try the brownies. They sound the perfect tonic to the Armstrongs.”
“We have to try something,” Joan muttered as she flipped through her recipe cards.
The sisters were watching television when they heard the front door open several hours later. Janet got to her feet.
“I’ll go. Maybe it will just be the Fordhams.”
“That means I’ll have to go next time when it’s sure to be the Armstrongs,” Joan sighed.
When Janet walked into the sitting room a moment later, both couples were hanging up their jackets.
“Good evening,” Edgar Fordham said. “We thought we’d be back hours ago, but we couldn’t stop chatting to the lovely girl who works at the café.”
“Stacey? She’s very sweet,” Janet agreed. “How was your dinner?”
“Oh, excellent,” Carol Fordham replied. “You were right about that café. The food was good and the service was even better.”
“Hmph, well, at least some of us had a nice evening,” Malcolm Armstrong said.
“Oh, dear, that doesn’t sound good,” Carol replied. “Did you have a bad meal somewhere?”
“We went into Derby and found a little Italian place,” Malcolm told her. “It looked nice enough from the outside and it was over half full, so we assumed it wouldn’t be too bad.”
“But we were badly wrong,” Judith said. “The service was slow and the food was uninspired. It was nothing like what we ate when we were in Rome, nothing at all.”
“They tried to tell us that they specialise in Northern Italian cuisine, but that’s no excuse, is it? In the end, we refused to pay for any of it and left,” Malcolm said.
The Lawley Case Page 2