Small Town Shock (Some Very English Murders Book 1)

by Issy Brooke

  Penny pouted to herself. “Edwin Montgomery has a major grudge, though. Even if he didn’t tamper with the fence. You said before that he had been electrocuted. So maybe Ed had some way of doing that…”

  “You do know that electricians don’t carry the electricity around with them, don’t you?”

  Ouch. Penny closed her eyes briefly and before she could reply, Cath continued, saying hastily, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled-for. I’m just concerned that you’re getting too … involved. You can leave it to the professionals. To us.”

  Penny’s ankle throbbed. Kali made a growling sound but her face was relaxed and her tail wagged. Maybe it was the painkillers, but Penny felt a laugh bubbling up inside her at the image of an electrician supplying his own power out of a toolbox – tadaah! – like a superhero, lightning bolts springing out when he opened the lid. “No, I did call for it, and you’re right, and it’s funny. I’m sorry. I have had a bad day. And a good one, in ways. Oh goodness. I’m getting delirious. Hang on.” She took a deep breath. She hadn’t had that many painkillers. Maybe it was the gin, too. “Right. You can’t deny that Ed had a motive, though, right?”

  Cath tutted but it did sound as if she were smiling. “Maybe he did. We shouldn’t even be talking about this. So yeah, he did have motive. And I’m only saying this to get you to stop meddling but we did call him in for questioning.”

  “You arrested him! Why is he still out and about then?”

  “No, he was not arrested. He was on the list of suspects so they called him in to ask some questions, and he came voluntarily. He …” Cath dropped her voice. “He has a record for industrial sabotage, which sounds very fancy but it could just be as simply as cutting a hole in a fence.”

  “There, you see! Motive and previous form!” Penny sat bolt upright, startling Kali who slid to the floor with a thump and remained there, grumbling.

  “Yes. And no. Mostly, no. The inspector let him go, and said he was no longer to be considered as part of the investigation. I was in the office. Open plan offices are great. Someone queried it and he was told to shut up and not mention it again.”

  “Wow. What does that mean?” It sounded deliciously dodgy to Penny.

  “I don’t know. Probably nothing. The main thing is, Penny, that Edwin Montgomery is not a suspect in this case. He is innocent.”

  “But–”

  “I’ve got to go. One of the kids is alleged to have jammed the other kid in a cupboard. I don’t believe it. But I’ve got to go… Sorry. And look, please, you’re going to get into bother if you focus on this. We’ll catch the killer. You don’t need to worry. It looks like a targeted attack, not some random indiscriminate murder. Upper Glenfield is quite safe.”

  “I’m not–”

  There was muffled shouting on the other end of the line. Cath hollered something at her children then returned to the conversation. “Look after yourself. Maybe we could do coffee some time? Wait – no! Put that down! Put him down. Look, I’ve got to…”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Thanks.”

  Penny let her mobile drop to the cushion beside her. So, not only was Ed not a suspect, he was not to be thought about, spoken about or anything?

  There was something very strange going on in Upper Glenfield.

  Chapter Nine

  Penny groaned. She was lying in her warm bed, and there was the disconcerting sound of heavy breathing right by her ear, and she knew when she opened her eyes, she’d stare straight into the brown gaze of an expectant Rottweiler. The thought was less than comforting.

  It was early on Monday morning. Too early, she thought as she peeped and saw the glowing digits of the alarm clock. But Kali was used to being walked in the wee small hours. The habit was formed, and Penny knew she’d get no more rest now that Kali was awake.

  She sat up and swung her legs out of bed. She slept in the smaller of the two bedrooms, because it was at the back of the house and had open views over grassland down to the river and the fields beyond. The window was small and she had tended to keep the curtains open, something she would never have done when living in London. It was nice to see the moon and the stars, undimmed by the orange light pollution of cities and large towns.

  Without thinking, she slammed her feet to the floor. As soon as her foot hit the carpet, pain flared in her ankle and she knew she had done something quite bad to her joint the previous day.

  Kali was wagging her whole body but when Penny yelped with pain, trying to stand up, she was immediately at her side, pressing her nose to Penny’s hand in concern, and licking her lips.

  “I don’t think you can carry me, but bless you,” Penny muttered. She sat back on the bed again and looked at the offending joint. It was purple and swollen.

  “Ugh.” She let loose a swear word, then felt irrationally embarrassed that the dog had heard her, and apologised, then felt even more daft that she had just said sorry to an animal that didn’t understand English, swearing or otherwise.

  Coffee and more painkillers. That was what she needed.

  By slow degrees, and by hanging on to furniture and walls and door frames and the bannisters, she managed to inch her way down the stairs to the kitchen, where she collapsed into a chair and wished she’d got some super-intelligent support dog that could somehow make breakfast for her.

  It was no use. She was going to have to get to the doctor’s surgery.

  * * * *

  There was no way she could walk anywhere. She was worried about simply getting to the bathroom. She didn’t think she could drive, either, but she had to try, squealing with pain every time she had to depress the clutch to change gear. She gave up by second gear, and revved the car noisily down River Street, bunny-hopped over the crossroads, and lurched along the High Street to where the small surgery lay on the right hand side, just past the industrial estate.

  She killed the screaming engine, and sat in the car for a few moments to gather her courage. She’d registered as a new patient when she’d arrived but had not had a consultation yet, in spite of two phone calls and a letter urging her to come in for a wellbeing check-up. Doctors seemed to pursue anyone past the age of forty with persistent offers of blood pressure checks, lifestyle checks, flu jabs, pneumonia jabs, and general advice. It made one feel quite ill.

  Anyway, she knew her wellbeing was lacking. That was why she was here, after all. She didn’t need some doctor advising her to chill out and maybe take up exercise.

  Right. I need to do this, she said to herself. It is time to put my big girl panties on and all that. She sucked in a deep breath and staggered out across the car park to the single-storey surgery building, wincing with each step, her arms flailing as she tried to hop.

  It was one of those modern, eco-friendly sorts of places with lots of natural wood and open spaces and carefully angled windows. It smelled of air freshener, which was probably the best thing a medical complex could smell of, considering the other options. The entrance was wide and welcoming, leading straight to an airy room with a curved reception desk in the centre.

  And there was one very harassed member of staff behind that desk, who was fending off the advances of two ringing phones and a pile of folders. She had a red, tense face and was clutching a pen like it was a dagger as her hand hovered over a memo pad. On the public side of the desk, there was a woman with a baby on her hip, waving some paper at her. Another man stood a little way behind the woman with the baby, patiently waiting his turn, and unashamedly eavesdropping.

  The receptionist shot Penny a filthy look – how dare people turn up and want attention! – and turned back to the angry mother. She spoke with the precise, clipped tones of someone unsuccessfully repressing their frustration, jabbing the pen into the pad with every other word. “I can put it to the doctor on her break but you won’t get it signed until the end of the day. We have procedures.”

  “Yeah but I’m going up town now though, aren’t I? So I need it now, don’t I?” The young mother sounded close to tears, her
voice high and whiny, but in an angry sort of way.

  “I’m sorry,” the receptionist said. She was clearly sorry that she was having to face the young mother. “There is nothing I can do.”

  “Maybe you should have got it signed before,” the waiting man offered helpfully, and both the receptionist and the mother glared at him. “Hey. Only saying.”

  “Butt out,” the mother said. Then she sighed dramatically and slammed the piece of paper onto the desk. “Well. I’ll just leave it then, shall I?”

  “I’ll call you as soon as it’s done.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks for nothing.” The mother stormed out, hissing at Penny as she pushed past. Penny felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

  The man laughed. “Oh, don’t mind her. It’s stress and all that. Motherhood. It sent my wife quite doolally. I don’t think she’s ever been quite right since, to be honest.”

  “Stress?” the receptionist said indignantly. “Stress? I’ll give you stress, Mr Wilcox. I’ll give you stress! Here I am, on my own and struggling to cope. Do you know how long it takes to recruit a new member of staff? Ages! You know that woman was sacked without warning, so it wasn’t as if we had someone lined up and waiting for a job.” She picked up the piece of paper that the mother had left and seemed about to rip it in half. The phones stopped ringing for a moment. Then one started up again and the receptionist looked fit to burst.

  “I don’t see why you hired her in the first place,” the man said, turning away and winking at Penny in that strange way some men had when they knew someone else was listening in. “Everyone knows Mary can’t ever keep her mouth shut. She never has. You were idiots for taking her on, really.”

  The receptionist was answering the telephone but she glared at the man fiercely, her eyes narrow.

  “Yes. Yes. Mrs Jenkins. Two o’clock. Fine. Thanks for letting us know.” She thumped the receiver back onto its cradle. “I took her on because I wanted to do something nice for someone who needed it, as it happens,” she said to the man. “More fool me, I suppose. So yes, I was gullible but we all wised up quick enough. I’m just surprised how long it’s took with Eleanor.”

  The man shrugged. “Best friends are a funny old thing. And chalk and cheese or what, eh, that pair?”

  A buzzer went on a screen and the man nodded. “That’s me! I’ll be off in then. Let’s see about this itch. I’m red raw down there.”

  Penny wanted to say no, wait. Mary and Eleanor – was that Mary, David Hart’s partner? And Eleanor, that must be David Hart’s sister in law. It wasn’t a very unusual name but surely it was her. Best friends … or were they? The Lincolnshire habit of mixing up tenses in speech had left Penny in some doubt. “How long it’s took” could be present or past.

  The receptionist coughed. “Can I help you?” she asked with an expression that suggested she had little intention of helping.

  “Ahh, right, sorry.” Penny gathered her thoughts. The receptionist didn’t look likely to indulge in gossip. She set about trying to persuade her that she really did need an appointment.

  She was directed to the waiting area and warned she’d potentially have to sit there for an hour or so. She didn’t mind. She had an awful lot to think about.

  And her next move needed planning.

  Chapter Ten

  Penny wondered if her house was beginning to smell. She might not be able to tell, if she got used to it. She hadn’t done much housework since the ankle sprain, and she hadn’t left the cottage either. After all, the doctor had recommended that she rest. Now it was Wednesday, and Kali was practically eating the wallpaper off the walls with cooped-up craziness, and Penny knew exactly how she felt.

  She lay on the sofa and flicked through the television channels. It all seemed to be house auctions, women’s makeovers, and some terrible documentary about barnacles. Doing nothing was both tiring and frustrating. Her eyelids began to droop again. The less she did, the more she wanted to sleep. Was she actually beginning to hibernate? Could humans even do that?

  Kali began barking a fraction of a second before the knock at the door. Penny startled awake and sat up, unsure whether she had heard the knock or dreamed it. It came again, and she made her way to answer it. Her ankle was sore but the three days of inactivity were helping a lot to ease the pain and accelerate the healing process.

  It was Drew, and she was pleased to see him, in spite of his dire warnings against asking questions. “Hi there,” he said cheerfully. “I just thought I’d call round to see how you were getting on with the head-collar and Kali.”

  Kali was alternating between pressing herself against him and sitting back, squashing herself down on her haunches and making a strange bubbling throaty noise – the same over-excited reaction she showed just before getting fed. Drew bent and petted her, and noticed the bandage around Penny’s ankle. She was in loose linen trousers and was barefoot.

  “Oh – are you all right?” He straightened up, his fingers lightly resting on Kali’s head. She grumbled happily.

  “Yes,” Penny replied. “This, oh, it’s nothing. I sprained my ankle at the weekend, that’s all. Come in.”

  “Of course, sorry. You need to sit down.”

  “It’s not so bad now,” she said over her shoulder as she led him into the kitchen, defaulting to the usual ‘I have a visitor so I must put the kettle on’ routine. “I can walk better on it today.”

  “When did you do it? Down, Kali!”

  “On Sunday. I went out with the ramblers.”

  “Sunday! My goodness. How have you been managing? Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Yes, on Monday, and that was very interesting. I’ve got a lot of questions about…” but she tailed off as she caught his guarded expression, and remembered that he had advised her to stay clear of the investigation.

  But it was no use. She was bubbling with speculation and she’d been housebound for three day with nothing to occupy her thoughts.

  Drew knelt to give Kali more fuss. “I’m glad you saw a doctor. What about Kali? How have you been walking her? I know there’s a dog walking service in Lincoln. Did they come out?”

  “Is there? I didn’t think of that. Huh. It will be six weeks before they can connect my internet, apparently. An engineer has to come out and put a phone line in. Who on earth lives without a phone line?” Penny poured the boiling water into two mugs. “I’ve let her out into the back garden to do her business and I’ve been throwing a ball for her, but I haven’t been able to take her out. On the plus side, though, I’ve taught her some tricks. And I’ve been learning from some books I got from the library.”

  Drew looked furious. “She hasn’t had a walk for three days? That’s insane. That’s awful. The poor dog! Why didn’t you call me?” He rose to his feet and Penny felt suddenly guilty.

  “I didn’t have your number…” she stammered.

  “You could have … oh. I see. Okay.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s all right. You’re totally correct. She does need some exercise.”

  “Well, that’s settled.” He beamed. “After my cuppa, I’ll take her for a walk. No arguing.”

  “I won’t argue. That would be lovely, thank you.”

  “And here’s my number in case you do need it.” He pulled out an envelope from his pocket and tore off a corner, and she passed him a pen to scribble with. “It must be strange, being here all alone in a new place.”

  “I like it. Or I did like it, up until when I needed people and realised I didn’t have anyone.”

  “Your London friends not beating a path to your door, then?”

  “I don’t think I have any London friends,” she confessed sadly. “It’s been really obvious that the one person I made any emotional impression on was Francine. No one else has stayed in touch at all. You remember…?”

  “Yes, she came to see you.”

  “Yeah.” She laughed. “Everyone else, though, has stayed away. No phone calls, nothing. I suppose it would
have been different if I’d moved to the Cotswolds. It’s trendy there.”

  “Why didn’t you move to somewhere trendy? I mean, much as I love Lincolnshire, why come here? People generally … don’t.”

  Penny thought it was a strange question coming from someone so obviously rooted in the area. “I came here partly because I wanted to be far away from anywhere else. And partly because the sale of my London home was pretty good but I would only have been able to afford a shed in the Cotswolds, but here, I bought this cottage and my motorbike and I can live nicely for at least a little while.”

  “I see. So, you said the appointment at the doctor’s was interesting…”

  She drank her tea while she tried to come up with something to say. She failed.

  Drew smiled thinly. “You’re still poking into that business with David Hart, aren’t you? I saw in the paper that it said he’d been electrocuted and the death was being treated as suspicious. So everyone’s talking about it.”

  “Yes,” she said, all her fire and passion coming back in a rush. He had brought the subject up, so she decided it was fair game again. She sat forward, wrapping her hands around her mug. “Can you confirm for me something about Mary, David’s girlfriend? Did she use to work at the surgery?”

  Drew tipped his head back and studied the ceiling. “Yes, she did. But not for very long, I don’t think. I don’t go to the doctor much. All the healthy outdoor air, you see. I’m of hardy stock.”

  She didn’t look at his wide shoulders. “Right, that’s fine, I just wanted to know that it was the same Mary. She seems to have a reputation for not sticking at jobs. What is up with her?”