“Let’s drive into Derby, shall we?” Edward asked. “Maybe we could do some shopping on the high street there.”
“I haven’t been into Derby city centre in years,” Janet said. “I’m not sure what parking will be like.”
“I’m not worried about parking,” Edward told her. They drove silently for a short time before Edward smiled at her. “Shall I put the radio on?” he asked.
“You can if you’d like,” Janet said.
Edward switched the radio on. Instead of returning his hand to the wheel after he was done, he reached over and took Janet’s hand. Holding hands made her feel like a teenager again, which wasn’t altogether unpleasant.
When they reached the city centre, Edward pulled into a large parking garage. He used a card to open the gate at the entrance and then parked his car.
“I didn’t know you came to Derby often,” Janet said as she climbed out of the car.
“I don’t,” Edward replied.
“But you have access to a parking garage here?”
“I have access to parking garages in many places,” Edward said. “When I’m working, it’s useful to have convenient parking.”
Janet opened her mouth to ask more questions, but she wasn’t sure what to ask next. “And no one minds you using that parking when you aren’t working?” was the question that came out first.
Edward laughed. “No one will complain,” he said. “But that’s enough about work. Let’s go shopping.”
Janet had had a few boyfriends when she was younger, but not one of them had ever enjoyed shopping with her. Edward, on the other hand, seemed to want to look inside every shop they came across. At first Janet was happy to do so, but she quickly realised that Edward was going to offer to buy her everything she admired.
“I’m sorry,” she said, leading him out of one of the shops. “But I’m not comfortable with you buying me anything. We can window shop together, but you must stop offering to pay for things that I like.”
“I only have a few days here,” Edward told her. “I want to spoil you while I have the chance.”
“You’ve already bought me an expensive painting and a kitten with all of her necessities,” Janet said. “That’s more than any other man has ever given me, with the exception of my father, of course.”
Edward grinned. “But if I don’t spoil you, some other man will step in and do so,” he argued.
“I doubt that,” Janet said, pushing all thoughts of William Chalmers from her head.
They continued making their way through the various shops with Edward only offering to buy Janet things a few more times. She politely refused each offer until they reached the chocolate shop.
“If you really must buy me something,” she said in the doorway, “I’ll have a box of truffles.”
Of course Edward insisted on buying her the largest box they made. Janet winced when she saw the price, but Edward wouldn’t be dissuaded. “You know you’ll enjoy them,” he said. “And if I get you the large box, you can share them with Joan, as well.”
“Must I?” Janet replied.
Edward laughed. “I won’t complain if you don’t.”
“You might not, but Joan will,” Janet said. “And the box is far too large to sneak in past her.”
“Maybe she won’t be home when we get back,” Edward said. “I can arrange for her to be out, if you’d like.”
Janet stared at him for a minute and then shook her head. “I don’t mind sharing,” she said. “It’s far too big a box for one person.”
They left the shop with Edward carrying the large bag. Half an hour later, Janet was getting bored with shopping.
“There are too many shops,” she told Edward. “And nothing I need.”
“As we’ve already bought chocolate,” Edward teased.
“I always need chocolate,” Janet told him.
“I’ll remember that,” Edward laughed. “But we can go if you want to. Maybe we should try to find a stately home or some other historical site to visit on the way home.”
“It would be something to tell Joan about,” Janet said.
As they were getting back into Edward’s car, his phone began to ring. He glanced at the display and then frowned. “I need to answer this,” he told Janet.
Janet sat in the car while Edward walked up and down behind it while he talked. With nothing else to do, Janet timed the phone call. Four minutes and forty-one seconds later, Edward dropped the phone back into his pocket and slid behind the wheel.
“If you don’t mind changing our plans, something else has come up that I think you might be interested in doing,” he told Janet as he started the car’s engine.
“What’s that?”
“Simon Hampton is holding a press conference about the fire,” Edward replied.
Chapter Five
“But we aren’t press,” Janet said.
“No, but I can get us in anyway,” Edward told her. “If you want to go.”
“It’s terribly nosy of us,” Janet replied. “But I’d love to go. I’ve never been to a press conference.”
“They can be quite boring, but they can also be quite interesting. I’m curious to hear what the man has to say, anyway.”
“Maybe he’ll talk about his plans to expand,” Janet said. “Although I hope he’s changed his mind, as I don’t want Martha to lose her house.”
Edward focussed on driving and got them back to Doveby Dale much more quickly than Janet had expected. When they reached the small centre of the village, she was surprised to see that the car park for the shops was nearly full.
“What’s going on?” she asked as Edward pulled into one of the last parking spaces.
“Simon’s press conference,” Edward said.
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting this many people,” Janet said, flushing and feeling stupid.
“Simon Hampton is newsworthy beyond Doveby Dale,” Edward told her. “He’s wealthy enough to garner attention from the big city newspapers. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were reporters here from London, even.”
“I didn’t realise he was that important.”
“He’s certainly that wealthy,” Edward said. “But let’s go.”
The press conference was being held in the small community centre building. Janet had walked past it a dozen times but had never been inside. Today she discovered that it looked like a large rectangular box on the outside, and on the inside as well. There were doors to the loos when you first entered the building and a small kitchen along the back wall, but otherwise there was simply a large space that could be used in whatever way suited whoever needed the space.
Today there was a large table set up near the door. Two men in police uniforms were sitting at the table checking everyone’s credentials. Janet looked nervously at Edward, but he simply smiled at her. When it was their turn, he said a few words to one of the constables and then showed him a card from his wallet. The constable nodded and then handed Edward two admission tickets for the press event. Edward quickly led Janet to the next constable, who was checking tickets.
“Right, thank you,” the man said, taking the tickets from Edward. “Please leave the seats in the centre of the front row vacant.”
Edward nodded and he and Janet walked through the ropes that divided the room in two. On the other side, rows of chairs had been set up to face a small stage. Edward guided Janet into the back row, which was just about the only row that had two empty seats together. They sat down and Janet looked around.
“There are a lot of people here,” she whispered. “We’re lucky we got seats.”
“They’ll put out more chairs if they need them,” Edward told her. “Simon wants the reporters to be comfortable and happy. They’re more likely to say nice things about him that way.”
A few minutes later a man walked up onto the stage and spoke into the microphone that had been set up at the front. “Good afternoon,” he said. For a moment conversations continued around the room, but gradually
the other voices died down. While the man waited, Janet studied him. She would have guessed his age at thirty, give or take five years either way. He was tall, with brown hair and eyes, and Janet thought she probably would have found him attractive if she’d been thirty years younger.
“Good afternoon,” he said again. “Thank you all for coming. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Clifton Price. I’m Simon’s assistant. We’ll get started in just a few minutes. Simon is going to come out and give a brief statement and then he’ll answer questions. He’s obviously a very busy man, however, so he can’t stay for long. I’m happy to stay and answer any and all additional questions after Simon has left, though.”
A murmur went through the crowd as Janet glanced at Edward. “Is that typical?” she whispered.
Edward shrugged. “I’m sure Simon is quite busy. He’ll have to talk to the police as well as the insurance investigators and the fire investigators. I was surprised he was doing this today. I won’t be surprised if he leaves after the first three or four questions.”
Clifton had stepped away from the podium after he’d made his announcement, but he was back a moment later. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Joseph Carter, the manager from Doveby Dale Supermarket,” he said.
The man stepped up onto the small stage and smiled weakly at the crowd. A few reporters called out questions, but Clifton was quick to put a stop to that.
“Mr. Carter will be happy to answer your questions after Mr. Hampton is done,” he said.
“Mr. Carter doesn’t look very happy,” Edward whispered.
“He always looks like that,” Janet whispered back. Joseph Carter had dark hair and eyes. He was of average build and average height, and his looks were average as well. Janet had to admit that she hadn’t even noticed him in the crowd, even though she should have expected him to be there. He’d simply blended in with everyone around him.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, Simon and Cynthia Hampton,” Clifton announced.
Janet watched as the man she’d seen only once or twice before, and only at a distance, made his way up to the stage. Simon had dark hair, but his eyes were green. He was tall and he looked younger than the mid-fifties that Janet knew was his age. The pretty blonde woman on his arm was probably closer to thirty. Cynthia looked bored as she glanced around the room with her bright blue eyes. She walked to the podium clinging to her husband’s arm, teetering on incredibly high heels.
“Thank you,” Simon said when he reached the microphone. “Obviously, this is a very sad day for everyone in the Hampton family, which includes not only myself and my wife, but also everyone who works for our organisation. We will be doing our best to make sure that none of our staff suffers unduly after the unfortunatel incident last night.”
He stopped there and smiled out at the crowd. After a moment, a few people applauded politely. Simon nodded and then went back to his speech.
“As I’m sure you’ve all heard, last night between midnight and five o’clock someone broke into our supermarket in Doveby Dale and set fire to the stockroom. It appears that several of the smoke detectors were also disabled. Fortunately, some of the detectors, especially those within the front of the shop, remained functional. Eventually, as the fire spread, those detectors alerted neighbours and they rang the fire brigade.”
Simon stopped and swallowed hard. Janet wondered if he was genuinely upset or simply pausing for dramatic effect. His wife yawned, leaving Janet certain that she wasn’t upset, at least.
“The men and women who fight fires for a living are to be commended,” Simon said. “And last night they did their best to save my business. Unfortunately, in their battle against the flames, a great deal of water damage was done to the structure. I’m still waiting for a full damage report from the insurance company, but I want everyone to know that I’m committed to rebuilding just as soon as I possibly can.”
Another smattering of applause filled the pause as Simon stopped for a sip of water. Cynthia filled the silence by inspecting her nails.
“I’m more than happy to take questions, but please understand that the fire is part of an active police investigation. I am not able to discuss anything to do with that police investigation at this time,” Simon concluded. “Does anyone have any questions?”
“Who hates you enough to want to destroy your business?” a reporter near the front shouted.
“I would hope that the answer to that would be no one,” Simon said earnestly. “While the police believe that the fire was set deliberately, I’m still hoping that further investigation will reveal that it was all simply an unfortunate accident.”
“An accident that just happened to include disabling smoke detectors?” someone asked.
“Yes, well, there is that,” Simon said with a frown.
“Or maybe the detectors simply weren’t working,” a man suggested. “Maybe the batteries had died and you weren’t willing to pay for replacements. I’ve heard complaints from your employees before about your propensity to cut corners and ignore staff safely concerns.”
Simon shook his head. “I treat my staff like family,” he said firmly. “And I think of them as family. I would never do anything that might compromise their safety. To the best of my knowledge, all of the smoke detectors in the building were functioning perfectly before last night.”
“What about your plans to expand?” a woman asked. “You were trying to buy up an adjacent street to expand the shop. Are you still hoping to do that?”
“Those plans are temporarily on hold,” Simon said. “There were issues with the planning permission for the expansion before the fire happened. I’m hoping we might be able to work through at least some of them before we begin rebuilding. I’d love to rebuild the shop as a bigger and better one.”
“Would a bigger and better shop have more competitive prices?” the same woman asked. “Because yesterday the prices in your Doveby Dale location were, on average, twenty per cent higher than the prices at the supermarket in Derby.”
“Larger chains have greater purchasing power,” Simon explained. “They can get lower prices from their suppliers and pass those savings on to their customers. Unfortunately, we’re a small fish in a big pond. I do my best to keep my prices as low as I can and that will continue after the rebuild.”
Several more questions were shouted out, but Simon held up a hand. “I have a great many meetings to get through this afternoon,” he said. “I’m going to leave you in the capable hands of my shop manager, Joseph Carter, and my assistant, Clifton Price. I’m sure they’ll be able to answer any additional questions you might have.”
He turned and took a few steps towards the back of the platform before stopping and looking at his wife. “Cynthia,” he hissed. “Let’s go.”
“No one asked me any questions,” she said, just loudly enough for the microphone to pick up, as she turned to join him.
“Cynthia, is it true that you’re planning on leaving Simon?” one of the reporters shouted.
Cynthia turned around and winked at the man before she took her husband’s arm and let him lead her out through a door at the back of the room.
“Next question?” Clifton asked at the microphone.
“How did the arsonist get into the storage room?” someone asked.
“Joseph, do you want to take that one?” Clifton asked.
Joseph shook his head, but walked forward to the microphone. “That’s something the police are investigating,” he said in a clipped voice.
“Was anything stolen before the fire was set?” was the next question.
“As far as we can tell at this point, no,” Joseph replied.
“Was there any money on the premises?” someone asked.
“There was a small amount of cash in the shop’s safe. We keep a certain amount for making change for the tills. Otherwise, all cash is taken to the bank each night and deposited,” Joseph explained. “As far as we can tell, the safe wasn’t opened. As we aren’t allow
ed on the site yet, we can’t be certain of that at this time, however.”
“What time did you leave last night?” a voice shouted.
“Me, personally?” Joseph asked, flushing. “I worked until six and then left for the day. My assistant manager was responsible for closing the shop last night at nine.”
“Can we talk to him?” the same voice asked.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Joseph said.
“Do you think the fire has anything to do with the way you mistreat the staff at the shop?” a woman in the front row yelled.
Joseph looked at her and narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing here?” he demanded angrily.
“I’m press, obviously,” the woman said in a mocking voice. “I want to make sure I take down every word you say, just in case it comes in handy one day.”
“What’s this about mistreating the staff?” one of the other reporters asked.
“I believe it’s called sexual harassment,” the woman said loudly. “You know, grabbing them when they’re in the stockroom and trying to kiss them or whatnot. Maybe that’s why whoever set the fire started it in the stockroom. Maybe they were trying to burn down Joseph’s playroom.”
“That’s quite enough of that,” Clifton said. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said to the woman. “You aren’t meant to be here, I’m sure.”
“I work for the Doveby Dale local free paper,” the woman replied. “And that gives me press credentials.”
“Delivering the local free paper doesn’t entitle you to press credentials,” Joseph said tightly.
“I’ll leave,” the woman said, rising to her feet. “And I’ll talk to any interested reporters outside. There’s a lot I could tell you about what really goes on in that shop, that’s for sure.”
She marched out of the room while Joseph Clifton stared after her. A few of the reporters got up to follow her out, but Joseph stopped them.
“Don’t go,” he said quickly. “That woman is my wife and she’s just trying to start rumours about me in order to get a bigger settlement in our divorce. You can’t believe a word she says.”
The Hampton Case (A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Novella Book 8) Page 4