Lois Meade 14 - Suspicion at Seven

by Ann Purser

  She put down the phone, and it immediately started to ring again. It was the inspector again, and he said in a serious voice that Lois should be very careful about banding together with Gloria Prentise.

  “I don’t have to remind you, Lois, that her relations are a very crooked and clever lot. If you are not careful, she will use you, cooperate as far as it suits her, and then leave you in the lurch.”

  “I realise all that, Hunter. But thanks, anyway. And if you can look up records on any inquest held on Sylvia Fountain, and can bring yourself to let me know the results, then we might have something concrete to get us further on in our investigations. And by we, I mean you, me and Gloria. She is having a go at being Sylvia’s nearest and only relation.”

  “Come and see me on Monday, and I might be able to help.”

  * * *

  Gran had gone into overdrive in the kitchen, and the table was covered with wonderful homemade goodies.

  “But I thought Aurora and Milly were doing the refreshments,” Lois said, coming in to tell Gran she would be going into town next week.

  “These are for a special little party for helpers after we close the doors tomorrow. It will be our last party, Joan and me have decided,” Gran said.

  Lois thought of saying she remembered Gran saying that last time. But not wanting to spoil the fun, she didn’t, merely adding that if Mum wanted to go into town to the farmers’ market, she would be happy to give her a lift.

  “What are you doing going into town on a wash day?” Gran said accusingly.

  “I have to see Inspector Cowgill,” Lois said. “His suggestion, and I agreed. Always willing to give the police a hand, that’s me.”

  “It just so happens,” Gran said, “that on Monday the mouse man is coming to butcher all the little darlings behind the sofa and the piano, and in every other nook and cranny in this house. We are overrun, Lois, and it’s no good asking Derek to do the job, because he has plenty of other things to do, and in any case is quite likely to say he’ll use those trap things, where our mice go in and out at will.”

  “Phew, that’s a long speech, Mother dear. Best, maybe, not to tell Derek until the mouse man is actually here.”

  FIFTY-FIVE

  Next morning, Lois and Derek arrived outside Trinder’s Jewellers without mishap, but Lois still felt happier with Derek’s reassuring presence beside her.

  The shop was busy, as the whole town of Tresham was in festive mood, with the balloon festival in full swing.

  “I remember when I was little, I used to think they had party balloons hidden somewhere, when all the time it was the huge ones in the park, with baskets underneath and bursts of flame heating up gas, or something.”

  “Ah, so was it a great disappointment when you found out?”

  “Oh no. My dad promised to take me in one of the big balloon trips when I was bigger. But he never did. Mum says he was scared.”

  “I expect our Gran would have gone on her own! Anyway we’d better get the goodies for the girls and take them back to Fletching. The sooner the better, Gran said.”

  Lois leaned over to the driving seat and kissed Derek on his stubbly cheek. “And the sooner you have a shave, the better,” she said.

  * * *

  “Morning, Derek; morning, Lois!” said John Trinder. “Everything’s ready for Mrs. Weedon and her friend. I must say I do admire their pluck and determination.”

  “They say this is their last jewellery party,” said Lois.

  “Oh dear,” said John. “We had hoped it would be a regular event.”

  “Naturally,” said Lois. “I can see it is a nice little order for you! But we both think it is time to take life a little more easily for our Gran. Joan is a widow living alone, of course. But Gran is a full-time housekeeper for me and Derek.”

  “I wonder if you have thought that perhaps Mrs. Weedon is so good for her age because she is very active?” John Trinder smiled to soften what could be considered criticism. “Anyway, will you wish them the best of luck for today from us?”

  “I have to come into town on Monday,” said Lois, “so perhaps I will pop in and tell you how it went. I know there’ll be one or two pieces which Mum wants to give to the hospice shop.”

  The two went back to Derek’s van, and Lois looked nervously at the tyres. All blown up as correctly as the balloons now floating beautifully over their heads.

  “Come on, Derek; let’s get going. I shan’t feel safe until we’ve delivered this lot to Joan and Mum over at the Prentises in Fletching.”

  * * *

  Lois had to hand it to Gloria and her mother. Together with Joan and Gran, they had set out the jewellery so that it looked like a sale of the late Duchess of Windsor’s valuables at Sotheby’s. A few of the display tables from the days of the art gallery remained, and these had given the old building a professional air. Spotlights, too, gave extra sparkle to the jewellery.

  “Lovely!” said Lois. “Now, shall I go and do duty in the kitchen? And Derek has suggested himself as a roaming undercover man.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Meade,” said Mrs. Prentise. “Our family are really good at undercover work. We shall be fine, but if Derek likes to be an extra, I’m sure he’ll be very welcome.”

  The idea of being an extra did not appeal to Derek, and he said he would do some useful work in the garden of the old lady next door, and they were to yell for him if necessary.

  After a snack lunch, around half past one, last touches to the display were made, and Lois switched on her favourite jazz music turned down low. “Nothing worse than having to compete with loud background music,” she said to Gran, who had stationed herself behind the display to be ready for the first buyers. Lois had to admit that her mother, smartly dressed in a black suit with white shirt, looked very efficient and attractive.

  A respectable queue had formed outside the door, and Mrs. Prentise was ready to open up on the dot of two o’clock.

  “Here we go, girls!” she shouted, and backed away to join Gran and Joan behind the table, big smiles of welcome on their faces.

  * * *

  First in the queue was Gloria. “Hi, Lois,” she said. “What can I buy my elegant mother for her birthday? And how have you got on with you-know-who?”

  Lois nodded. “Fine, thanks. I am to see him on Monday, so will know more then. Now, how about this lovely gold chain? Same pattern as rich old men used to wear across their chests in olden times.”

  “I don’t particularly want to look like a rich, portly old man! I don’t think much of your sales talk, Lois Meade!”

  “You’re right. How about a discreet pair of earrings, like little silver cushions with tiny real diamonds inset?”

  “Definitely better. And yes, I’ll take those. Can you put them in a pretty box, and I’ll take them when everyone has gone? Put a red dot beside them, pour encourager les autres.”

  “Exactly. Merci beaucoup,” Lois said, not to be outdone. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Then, suddenly, the hall was full, and Derek appeared to tell her that a coachload of ladies, mature in years, had arrived outside. “Do you want extra help?” he said.

  And then Josie arrived from the shop, and in no time, it seemed everyone was busy, and money was flowing into the safety cash boxes.

  “Wow!” said Joan, when they finally managed to close and lock the door. “Four hours on me feet and not a single twinge! How about you, Elsie?”

  Gran grinned. “Same here. What a wonderful afternoon, and where did all those women come from? That lot in a motor coach.”

  Matthew, wearing mufti, had come in with Josie, and Lois could see he was smiling broadly.

  “Hi, Matt,” she said. “You’re looking cheerful. Day off?”

  “Not quite,” he said. “I was being helpful at the crossroads. A bus drew up, full of affluent-looking ladies out on an excurs
ion. Their driver was young and new, and had lost the way. They were all desperate, and they asked where the nearest toilets were. I naturally directed them to the wonderful house with a jewellery sale on. I was sure Mrs. Prentise would allow them to use the gardener’s loo.”

  “Which I did,” said Mrs. Prentise, rubbing her hands. “And the desperate ones I sent upstairs to the spare room en suite. Now then, who’s counting? If no one else wants the job, I’m volunteering.”

  FIFTY-SIX

  When all the cash had been counted twice, and the few remaining pieces of jewellery packed carefully in boxes to take to the hospice shop, the party began. Husbands and wives of helpers swelled the numbers, Lois put on more cool jazz, and with the display units cleared to the sides of the barn, a generous area of empty floor remained.

  After a glass or two of bubbly wine, Derek bowed lightly to Mrs. Prentise and asked if she would like to dance. She smiled kindly and said she happened to have a vintage disc of Victor Sylvester in her pocket. Thrilled, Derek moved out onto the floor, and the two, with considerable grace, performed a faultless quickstep to roars of applause.

  This was followed by a wonderful waltz performed by Joan and Gran dancing together. “Stately as a galleon,” muttered Derek into Lois’s ear. “Should I ask Josie?”

  “I think this had better be the last waltz, and Matthew will no doubt persuade his wife onto the floor. Which leaves me. How about it, boy?”

  * * *

  The Meades were now all gathered in their kitchen, conducting a postmortem on the evening’s event. There was no doubt that jewellery sales had been a great success, and the takings were double that of their last fixture.

  “Now, everybody quiet now,” said Gran. “Me and Joan want to say something.”

  “Joan’s in the kitchen,” said Derek.

  “That’s why I’m going to say something. What we wanted to say was that we are really grateful to Lois. To everybody, of course, but a special thank-you from we two to Lois. In spite of disapproving of our doing the whole thing, she buckled to and put all her considerable energy into helping us. So thank you, me darling. Your dad would have been proud of you. And here, Lois Weedon, here is a small token of our gratitude.”

  By this time, there was much clearing of throats and mopping of eyes, Lois more than most. She took the pink box and opened it. “Oh, Mum, how lovely,” she said and held up a gold chain with a pendant of a small dog, enamelled white with a scarlet collar.

  Derek silently handed her his large handkerchief, and she wiped her eyes. Not long after, all were safely sent off in good order, and he and Lois retired to bed.

  “What an evening!” Lois whispered to Derek.

  “And it’s not over yet,” said Derek, pulling her gently towards him.

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  When Lois and Derek finally got up to draw the curtains and see the day already in strong sunlight, with neighbours going by to buy Sunday newspapers from Josie, Gran had been up for an hour or so, and was impatient to clear away breakfast things and get off to church.

  “Just as well you’re not Roman Catholic, Mother,” said Lois, “or else you might feel you should go to confession and own up to dancing the light fandango and celebrating your profit-making enterprise, deceiving buyers into thinking they were shelling out for diamonds and sapphires.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Lois,” Gran said firmly. “My conscience is as pure as the driven snow. No such horrible thoughts would cross my mind, and Joan is the same. I think all of us had a great time, as I said last night.”

  “Only teasing, Mum. Derek and I are very proud of what you both achieved. And as you can see, I am wearing my lovely present. And now you can rest on your laurels and take up knitting.”

  “You very well know, my dear daughter, knitting is not one of my many skills. Cooking, yes. Polishing, yes. Scrubbing, yes, if I have to. But I leave knitting to Joan. She knits for the army, I reckon. Shapeless garments in a kind of khaki colour. She says they are for her grandchildren, but I couldn’t see either of our Doug’s little ones wearing them. What are you two doing this morning?”

  “It’ll be gardening for me,” said Derek.

  “I might drive over to Brigham to have a chat with Aurora and Milly. I didn’t see them last evening, but then it would probably have been a bit painful for them to come,” said Lois.

  “Especially as we weren’t dealing with their jewellery. You’ll probably have to explain that, Lois.” Derek was not completely happy with Lois’s close friendship with Aurora. Now a widow, she was a troubled soul and probably needed professional help to recover. But he knew better than to say so to his independent wife. Her reaction would be to do the opposite, so he kept quiet.

  * * *

  After Derek had gone off to his vegetable garden carrying a hoe like a rifle over his shoulder, Lois set off for Brigham. She knew Aurora opened the bakery shop for three hours on a Sunday morning for people collecting their bread. One or two carried on the age-old tradition of bringing in their joint of meat for roasting in the large bread oven, which remained hot for some hours after bread baking. Milly loved this tradition kept alive and said there was nothing as good as the smell of a rib of beef roasting in their oven.

  Occasionally, she suggested to her mother that they should charge for this service. Aurora had refused, saying that it cost them nothing, and anyway, she did not offer the service to all comers. There were still hard-up families in the village, and if not starving, they were finding it hard to make ends meet in the current climate of government cuts in welfare.

  Milly saw the wisdom of this. If times improved, those they helped would be good customers in the future.

  “Morning, Lois!” Aurora was beaming, and wrapped up Lois’s bread with expert fingers. “I hear it all went very well last evening. Congratulations to Gran and Joan. I shall have to watch out!”

  “Have you decided to keep on your Luxury Jewellery parties?”

  “Still not decided. To tell the truth, Lois, I dread it. I never did like selling that stuff, and when I helped out, Donald said I looked so superior I was bad for business. But I wasn’t. Superior, I mean. I thought the jewellery was overpriced, which, of course, it had to be to make it profitable for several layers of selling. No, I think if I can keep the bakery property and business going, and maybe expand a little on the cake side, I shall be able to keep Milly and me until she gets a job and becomes independent. My wants are small, and all I ask is to be able to sit on the wall of the millpond and look at the ducks and think how lucky I am.”

  Lois smiled encouragingly, but was puzzled. Surely all Aurora wanted was her husband back again, and Milly a qualified nurse, with perhaps a nice boyfriend and a wedding in the offing. But no, perhaps not her husband back again.

  She shrugged and smiled at Aurora. “You’re a good, brave person,” she said. “And going to ground in your hideaway obviously gave you time to do some constructive thinking.”

  Aurora looked at her watch. “Time to shut up shop,” she said. “Do you fancy a stroll over the meadow, and a drink at the Mill? Did you bring Jemima?”

  “That would be nice,” said Lois. “Yes, Jeems is in the van, so I’ll get her out and meet you by the pond, okay?”

  “We might see Milly, on her way back from church. My daughter has fallen in with a church youth group since she’s been at home. Nice youngsters they are, too. But I always feel somehow sinful when they are around!”

  “You know what Gran would say! ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.’ Not that I am suggesting your youngsters are casting stones! But you know what I mean.”

  “Depends on the magnitude of the sin, I suppose,” said Aurora, a half smile of gratitude on her face. “You are a good friend, Lois, and I’m not sure if I could have surfaced at all without our friendship.”

  “Before we get bogged down on a graded list of sin
s, I’ll go and get Jeems!”

  * * *

  The water meadow beside the Mill was full of strollers, some with dogs on long leads and others with babies in backpacks. There was a lovely atmosphere of peace and joy, thought Lois. Difficult to believe that such a horrible death as that of Donald Black had happened in the green water driving the old mill wheel. If the workmen had replaced the safety panels, this would be perfect. So thought Lois. She and Aurora sat outside with Jeems, drinking glasses of cider and sharing a packet of crisps.

  “I’ve been thinking, Lois, and I’d appreciate your opinion. I’ve always supplied bread and rolls and that sort of thing to the Mill kitchens, but now I thought I would expand into catering on a larger scale. Not taking over from them, but offering to do roasts and pies, and helping out when they have big receptions and so on. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a great idea! You’ve got just the right setup for that. And you have only yourself to please. I’d drop the jewellery idea and concentrate on something you love to do.”

  “That’s exactly how I look at it. Wonderful! Can I buy you another cider to celebrate?”

  Lois thought that a celebration was perhaps a little premature. Aurora seemed to have shut the door on past terrors, and set off again in a different direction. Which was fine and sensible, but Lois found it a little uncomfortable, and said she had to get back to escape the wrath of Gran, who was decidedly uppity after yesterday’s success.

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  “I’ll just nip into the ladies’ room,” said Aurora, “while you take Jeems to the car. And then I’ll meet you back at the bakery, so’s you can pick up your bread. Shan’t be two ticks.”

  Jeems protested about being shut up in the car, whining in a heartbreaking howl. It took Lois several minutes to placate her with a couple of biscuits and a promise that she would be back directly.