by Ann Purser
Lois turned and said she was trying to remember something. "It'll come to me," she said, and gave him a hug.
FORTY-FOUR
IN GORDON STREET, DOUGLAS, SUSIE, AND JOSIE WERE having a council of war. They sat on the floor in Susie's house, having inspected the progress of Andrew's interior décor and pronounced it promising. Even Douglas, who did not trust Andrew with Susie one inch, had to admit that so far it was an amazing transformation.
"Right," he said, taking the lead, "have we anything to report? Susie?" He had insisted that they include Susie, since she had been an innocent victim, and was as anxious as any of them to find the man who had bound and gagged her.
Susie shook her head. "I haven't heard anything at work. The theft seems to have been put on the back burner. I heard they'd decided it was gypos passing through the town."
"Rubbish!" Josie said angrily. "Those poor souls get blamed for everything. They're not all bad. A good excuse for the cops to wrap it up."
"Never mind that now. We should concentrate on the whereabouts of the skinny man and also, as Mum said, keep a special eye on Braeside over the road. I've seen nothing much myself. How about you, Susie, when you've been coming and going?"
Susie hesitated. She was not confident in reporting what she had seen, in case Josie dismissed it scathingly, like she had the gypsies. "Um, well, I did see a woman going in there early on, before you two arrived. It wasn't Mrs. Blairgowrie. You could see she wasn't blind, the way she walked quickly up to the door. Sort of old, but active. Grey hair, neatly dressed."
"Who let her in?" Douglas took her hand. He could see she was nervous.
"It was a man. A big man. He shut the door quickly, and o' course we've not been looking out since, so I don't know if either of them came out again."
Josie said, "The man, the big man. Did you notice anything else about him?" She realised that she'd been sharp with the girl and softened her tone. Susie was very young, poor kid. Years younger than Douglas.
"Well, he'd gone in pretty quickly, but I think he had glasses. Those big, horn-rimmed sort. And a dark suit. That's all, really."
"Well done, Susie," said Douglas, giving her a peck on the cheek. "Looks like we have to identify the second woman. We'll tell Mum. She has ways of finding out! Perhaps we'd better station ourselves at the window, out of sight, and see if anyone emerges."
INSIDE BRAESIDE, ALL WAS SILENT. THE THREE WERE SITTING IN A semicircle round the dining table looking at exhibit A.
"I can't do it," Pat said. "You can do what you like to me, but I can't do that. I never have and I'm not going to start now."
"Oh, I think we can change your mind, don't you?" Alastair John Smith smiled at Mrs. Blairgowrie conspiratorially, and Pat quaked.
"Can't you find somebody else? I'll not breathe a word. You know you can trust me."
"Ah, now that's just what we don't know, isn't it. You've made a mess of things once or twice already. I haven't forgotten the pork chops mysteriously floating down the river."
"I told you. They said it was a bloody dog. Nothing to do with me."
"So you said. But you're beginning to look like a liability. I can't have liabilities on my hands."
"I still can't do it," Pat said miserably.
Mrs. Blairgowrie laughed then. "You'll manage, Pat," she said. "A steady hand and plenty of patience is all you need. I can give you a few tips, if you like."
"There is one thing you've managed to get right," said Alastair. "You've found a really good hiding place, right under the noses of the good folk of Tresham. Now's the time to redeem yourself. You're extremely unlikely to be recognised, especially in the pearls and cashmere. Quite the lady about town. Now, I'd better be getting back to Farnden. I want to keep a close eye on the lovely Mrs. Meade this evening. There's a jumble sale in the village hall, and I mean to go. She's bound to be there. And I might pick up a few bargains on the side."
"Why are you watching her?" Pat said.
"Orders from above. Now, I must be off. You'd better be going, too, Pat. And don't forget that," he added, pointing to the black bag on the table. "Leave about ten minutes after I've gone." He left without a word of goodbye, and slammed the front door behind him.
* * *
WITH ALL THE OLD CLOTHES, BOOKS, BRIC-A-BRAC, VINYL RECORDS, cassettes, CDs, and magazines sorted on their proper tables, all was quiet and relaxed in the village hall.
Helpers were watching the clock. They would open the doors on the dot of six thirty to the bunch of people waiting outside. There had been some anxiety that most of the likely customers would have been on the WI outing, and would be too tired to come along. But there among others were Ivy Beasley and Doris, Mrs. Pickering, and Gran and her friend, the cook from the pub, all fresh as a daisy and prepared for the fray.
Mrs. Smith from Waltonby, no relation of John, had been drawn in as a committee member after the tragic death of her son in a fall from a horse. She stared out of the window and said, "Blimey! Quite a few waiting, and there's a man in a suit. Shall I open up?" She went to the double doors and with a dramatic gesture much appreciated by the crowd, she stood aside and waved them in.
Alastair was embarrassed, felt out of place, but was determined. He made for the bookstall, and picked up book after book, leafing through them with one eye on the door. He pricked up his ears when he heard someone say, "Isn't Lois coming, Mrs. Weedon?" Gran answered that she was, but would be late as she had some paperwork to catch up on. Alastair moved on to the bric- a-brac. Maybe he'd take home something cheap and colourful for his woman. She was easily pleased.
His patience was rewarded after half an hour, when Lois came in with apologies for being late. She joined Gran at the household linen stall, and then caught sight of him. She stared, and he came towards her. "Good evening, Mrs. Meade," he said. "You probably don't remember me. I'm Mrs. Blairgowrie's son. We met at Braeside."
"Oh, I do remember," Lois said. "And now you're living in Farnden. Have you settled in? Can I recommend the services of New Brooms? We do a very good cleanup job after people have moved house. Thoroughly freshened up from top to bottom."
It had been an impulse to offer him the team's services. It could be very useful having one of the girls in there, ears and eyes open. It could also be very dangerous, and she was almost relieved when he shook his head, saying he managed quite well, thank you.
He in his turn had been taken aback by Lois's suggestion. He had meant to say something to remind her that he was now very much around the village and would be keeping an eye on her. If possible, a coded threat had been his intention.
He was rescued by an unexpected intervention from Derek. "Lois! Can you come home, quick as you can!" She turned in alarm and in seconds followed him out of the hall and disappeared.
Gran was looking anxious, and Alastair moved closer to her. "Not bad news, I hope, Mrs. Weedon," he said in a concerned voice.
"Who are you?" asked Gran, knowing perfectly well who he was.
"Smith, John Smith. We met in your granddaughter's shop. I've moved into— "
"Yes, yes," Gran said. "I remember now. I have to go right away. I'm helping on teas." She went swiftly round into the kitchen and began washing up cups and saucers with vigour. Huh! she said to herself. He needn't think he can ignore me one day and be best friends the next, just when he wants to know something. Nosy blighter!
Lois broke into a trot outside the village hall, and Derek caught her by the arm. "Hey, he's not going to run away. Whoa!" he said.
"I'm not a horse!" Lois said breathlessly. She slowed down to a walk, and smiled at Derek. "Trust him not to let us know he was coming," she added. "And nobody there to greet him!"
"I was," said Derek. "Anyway, there he is, look. Coming to meet us."
Lois once more broke into a run, and then she was hugging her younger son, and saying over and over, "Jamie, Jamie . . ."
LATER IN THE EVENING, DEREK AND GRAN TACTFULLY LEFT JAMIE with his mother in the sitting room while t
hey went off to make coffee. "So what's the latest on Douglas?" Jamie asked.
Lois shrugged. "Nothing much new. I've got an idea or two what's behind it all, but they're only guesses really. We're all ferretin', as your father says, to see if anything comes up. The only thing they've got on Douglas is an anonymous letter left at the police station incriminating him. Somebody was supposed to have seen him do in old Clem Fitch. Watching from a bedroom window. Police enquiries have turned up exactly nowt."
"What about your friend Cowgill? Are you still in touch with him?"
"Well," said Lois, "so far he's been useless and untrustworthy. Like all cops. Relies on other people for his information, and doesn't keep his promises."
"Ah, I see," Jamie said with the ghost of a smile. "Right, so can I join the New Brooms investigating team? I've got a couple of weeks free. Sorry I didn't let you know, but it was a last-minute concert cancellation. Earthquake stops play."
"You're joking!" Derek said, coming in with the tray.
Jamie shook his head. "No, quite serious," he said. "One of the hazards of being a globe-trotting piano player."
"Jamie wants to help clear up this Douglas thing," Lois said.
"More the merrier," said Gran. "I still reckon that John Smith, so- called, is deep in it, but Lois won't listen to me."
"Of course I listen," Lois said. "You may well be right, but it'd do no good frightening off the rotten lot who're involved before we can get them safely behind bars. They're good at moonlight flits, as we know."
"Too right," Derek said, and turned to Jamie. "That bugger who lived the other side of Clem Fitch did a bunk overnight and seems to have vanished from the earth."
"Mm." Lois looked thoughtful. "He's probably still round here somewhere," she added, "and I mean to find him. And soon."
They all stared at her. "She knows something," Gran said acidly, "and you bet she's not going to tell us."
FORTY-FIVE
"DOT? MRS. M HERE. COULD YOU COME OVER THIS MORNING later on? After you've finished at Braeside."
Dot did not much want a face-to-face talk with Mrs. M at the moment. She had a lot to sort out in her mind. "Anything I can help you with over the phone?" she said. "Schedule's a bit tight today."
"You'll manage," Lois said. "I'll expect you about twelve thirty. 'Bye."
She had sat up late last night, chatting with Jamie and generally discussing family business. Douglas had telephoned to speak to his brother, and then had asked for a word with Lois. He had told her what Susie had seen, watching out of her window, and added that they'd all monitored the place after that, and had seen first the man leave, and then, ten minutes later, the grey-haired woman. He was pleased that Mum was so interested in this woman, and promised to see what he could find out. Other neighbours in the terrace might know a bit more than he did.
Now she needed to quiz Dot. Dot was being very evasive, a sure sign that she had something to hide. Maybe she had forgotten that her job description had included being ready to help out on any matter where Mrs. M needed information. This applied to Dot only, not the rest of the team, and had arisen because of her connection with Tresham's underworld. Dot had been happy to oblige and had been very useful now and then. She fancied herself as being assistant sleuth. Lois would remind her of that.
ALASTAIR JOHN SMITH SAW DOT ARRIVE. IF HE'D KNOWN HOW TO gnash his teeth he would have gnashed them. That wretched woman had got them over a barrel. He thought back to the day when she had escaped them in the playing field. It struck him that she had not actually been inside his house, and would not therefore have seen any clues to what she called his "little enterprise." So what had she got on them? Abduction, for a start. That would be enough to put the police on their trail, but it would be her word against his, and with a name like Nimmo she would have problems convincing them. What else had she discovered on her cleaning days at Braeside? That was the problem. He had no idea how much she knew. That was why he could not make any moves against her now. What else was she up to? It had all been going so well . . . He sighed, and turned away from the window. Then he had a brilliant idea. Why hadn't he thought of it before? If you can't beat 'em, get 'em to join you.
"COME IN, DOT," SAID LOIS, ANSWERING THE DOOR. "WE'LL HAVE a chat in the office. It shouldn't take long. Depends on you, really."
"What d'you mean, Mrs. M? Are you givin' me m' cards?"
"Of course not. I just want to know what's going on at Braeside. I don't think you've been quite straight with me, and you've been with us long enough to know I won't have that."
Dot did not answer for a few seconds. She was thinking hard, as she had been doing since Mrs. M had telephoned this morning. Now she had a straight choice. Either she told Mrs. M everything, or she lied. She decided reluctantly to take the first course of action.
"You're right," she said. "I've been keepin' things back an' though it was for your own good, I know you're going to be annoyed. Might even give me m' cards after all," she added sadly.
Lois said nothing, and waited.
"First of all, and worst of all, I changed my rota that day without permission. It was the day Evie called looking for me. I went to Braeside in the morning instead of the afternoon. I knew that Alastair would be coming to see his mother, and I wanted to eavesdrop, to get some clues. I knew you was interested, and thought I could give you some help."
"Never mind about the rota," Lois said. "Just tell me all of it, from the beginning."
But at that moment, there was a heavy rapping at the front door, and Dot got up to look out of the window. She withdrew rapidly. "It's 'im!" she whispered.
Gran answered the door as usual, and told Alastair John Smith to wait, while she found out whether Mrs. Meade was at home. She shut the door in his face and turned to Lois. "Are you in, or not?"
Lois nodded. "But hang on a minute. Dot, you wait in the kitchen with Mum. Keep the door shut, and don't come out until I tell you." She saw Dot safely out of sight and then opened the door. "I'm very busy. What do you want?"
Alastair smiled broadly at Lois, and edged his way in. Lois grudgingly opened her office door and ushered him in. Without being asked, he sat down in the chair by the desk. She remained standing. "What can I do for you, Mr. Smith?" she said.
"It's more a case of what I can do for you," he said. "I know you have a cleaning business and I wondered whether you have trouble getting staff? Not every woman wants to clean other women's houses, do they?" Lois did not answer, and he laughed again, and continued confidently. "Now, if that's the case, I might be able to help you. I could supply you with good, hard- working labour."
"What exactly do you mean?" Lois asked.
"What I said, dear," he said, gaining confidence. "The likes of us in small businesses should help each other, that's what I believe. Goodness knows it's difficult earning a crust these days. Supermarkets have all but destroyed the small businessman."
Lois took a long, speculative look at him. "Well, that may be so. But supermarkets don't offer cleaning services, so far as I know. No, I'm doing very nicely on my own, Mr. Smith. My team are loyal and content with their jobs."
"Even Dot Nimmo?" he said nastily, smiles all gone. "Those Nimmos are not all that trustworthy, you know, Mrs. Meade." He was angry that she'd turned him down, without even a friendly discussion. Perhaps he'd chosen a bad day. And where was that Nimmo woman? He'd thought she'd be here in the office. He could've killed two birds with one stone, in a manner of speaking. He had planned on showing her how he would be in close association with her boss, and see how she reacted to that. She wouldn't find it easy to get another job. He would see to that.
"If that's all, Mr. Smith, I have a very busy day, and must get on. I'll show you out."
He got up clumsily, while she stood holding the door open. "Perhaps we can talk again," he said in a last-ditch attempt, "when you're not so busy."
"Perhaps," said Lois, and closed the front door behind him. She went through to the kitchen and was annoyed to hear
from Gran that Dot had gone off across the field. "What does she think she's up to?" Lois said irritably.
"I'm back," said a voice. "Just needed a breath of fresh air."
"Come on, then," Lois said, and back in the office she prompted Dot to continue where they had left off.
"Nothing much more to tell," said Dot. "I didn't hear anything of interest, just the usual shouting match between the two of them. The rest you know, about me and Evelyn an' that."
Lois stared at her. "Are you sure that's all?" she said. "Everything you were keeping to yourself?"
Lie, Dottie, she said to herself. She had changed her mind. It was too dangerous for Mrs. M to know just yet. "You know me, Mrs. M," she said with a chuckle, "the only completely truthful and reliable Nimmo you're likely to meet. 'Cept Evelyn, o' course. But then, neither of us sisters are real Nimmos, are we? Shall I be on me way now?"