Small Town Shock (Some Very English Murders Book 1)

by Issy Brooke

  “I bet your courses are amazing,” she said.

  He laughed. “They are fun.”

  They were silent for a little while, then as they reached the top of a ridge, he spoke again.

  “There’s one big thing we haven’t talked about.”

  Her heart thudded twice and her mouth went dry.

  “This murder case,” he went on, before she could speak and make an utter fool of herself.

  “Oh – oh yes. I’ve left it alone. Honestly.”

  “Really?” He didn’t sound convinced but when she stole a sideways glance at him, he was smiling very slightly.

  “Mm.”

  “What happened?” he asked her. “They haven’t found the killer, have they? It would have been hot news if they had. Even I would have heard about it.”

  “No, they’ve not been found. It’s just…”

  They stood side by side, looking out over a Lincolnshire panorama of rolling hills that fell away to the flat Fenlands in the far distance, the atmosphere blurring the green fields into blue. Upper Glenfield nestled below them, a pretty town with the western bypass curling like a grey snake between the houses and the spot where they stood up on the ridge. It was easier to talk to someone when you didn’t face them directly, Penny thought. That was how so many of her love affairs and relationships had ended; the painful conversations had taken place in cars, for some reason, with both parties staring dead ahead through the glass.

  She plunged into a summary of events. “So, I went to talk to Eleanor and she threatened me and then I went to see Thomas but he chased me away and then they told the police, obviously, so an officer came around to tell me off but I sort of accidentally poisoned him with a biscuit and then I got a letter telling me to get out of town and that’s it, really.”

  There was an extended silence.

  “Start again,” said Drew eventually. “But with more gaps. And, you know, some actual explanation.”

  * * * *

  Drew, like Francine, tried to convince her that she had to tell the police about the letter. He spent the whole return journey persuading her that it was not only in her own interests, but also that of Mary’s, and anyone else who had had received such threats. Eventually, she was convinced, and agreed to speak to Cath as soon as she could.

  When they were at the bottom of River Street, Penny invited him to her cottage for a coffee, but he refused.

  “I’ve got some thinking and planning to do,” he said. “I can’t keep on running two businesses. I need to make a choice between the smithing, and the field-craft. Everyone I’ve spoken to has told me to stay with a solid craft and ignore the flighty field-craft courses. But…”

  “Ahh. You need to follow what makes you happy, as much as the money.”

  “I know. But it’s hard. Anyway, with running my own businesses, it’s about control as much as it’s about money, for me.”

  “That’s why a lot of people go self-employed.”

  “Yeah. So anyway. I think I’m going to go against the gossips and well-meaning meddlers of Glenfield and do my own thing. And as for you … speak to Cath!” he added as she turned to go.

  “I will!”

  * * * *

  But as soon as she got home, she unclipped Kali from the head-collar and stood in the kitchen, frozen in thought, halfway through the act of putting the kettle on.

  Drew’s words stuck in her head.

  Not the nettles thing, though that was interesting, or even the new plans that he had for his future.

  “It’s about control as much as it’s about money.”

  Control. Not money.

  Control. Not money.

  If it was all about money, then Mary or Thomas would have killed David. That was clear.

  But if it was about control …

  Eleanor and David had dated. They had been supposed to marry. But Eleanor had pursued glamour – she wanted a rich, attractive, powerful man – and she’d turned to his more appealing brother. Meanwhile, David had remained single, but with various lovers, over the years.

  And Eleanor had had lovers too, once the shine of being married to Thomas had worn off, and his career had nose-dived, and he was no longer the James Bond-type she had married.

  Perhaps Eleanor and David had got back together.

  Something had happened. Because at the time of his death, he had been seeing Mary, not Eleanor.

  Mary was Eleanor’s friend. No, she was her ex-friend.

  They’d been close friends for a long time until recently…

  Penny’s heart was hammering double-time as it fell into place, each thought slotting into its hole with a satisfying click.

  Thomas might have had a Taser and this meant Eleanor had access to it.

  Thomas had the means but Eleanor was the one with the motivation. Perhaps she only meant to punish him, not to kill him! Penny slammed the kettle back onto the stand and dashed through the cottage to find her mobile phone. She had to speak to Cath – urgently.

  There were unanswered questions and the edge of danger about it all. She’d been threatened and so had Mary – Penny now decided that those threats had to have come from Eleanor, and if she’d killed once out of malice and control, who knew what she would do next?

  Cath’s number just rang right through to voicemail. Infuriated, Penny left a message.

  “Cath! It’s Penny. It was Eleanor! She killed David. I’ve got a letter. Not a confession, I mean, a threat, it kind of links it all together, aargh. I really need to talk to you. Call me. Right now. I’m coming up to Lincoln, I’ll find you. No, don’t call when I’m driving, I don’t have hands-free, but–”

  The voicemail storage ran out of space and the phone beeped at her. Penny flung it into a bag and grabbed her car keys from the bowl by the front door.

  “Guard the house,” she told the bemused Kali. “I’ll be back later.”

  She drove like a loon to Cath’s house but as she suspected, it was empty and quiet.

  Next stop, Lincoln police station.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was rush hour in the city of Lincoln and she still hadn’t worked out the easiest routes around the place. The city seemed to have two centres – there was the old part of town, the Bailgate area, which was at the top of the imaginatively-named Steep Hill with the castle and the cathedral and its twisty cobbled streets of souvenir shops. But at the bottom of the hill (or, indeed, The Hill) was a more modern maze of shopping areas, with some roads being traffic-free and some with an inexplicable one-way system around them. It was bisected by a pleasant river, and more annoyingly, a main railway line. At peak times, the crossing barriers seemed to be down, blocking the traffic, for far longer periods than they were raised. Busy times in Lincoln seemed to consist of everyone staying exactly where they were, but getting angrier by the minute.

  She followed some contradictory signs for a car park. They must be puzzle signs, she through in exasperation as she was directed down a side street and then abandoned, with no further signage or hints as to which way she should turn. She should have come on the bike, she thought ruefully. Though the old thumper was a lot slower than her car, what she lost in travel time, she’d make up for in ease of parking. Eventually she was able to leave the car in an on-street parking bay. She expected that she wasn’t going to have the right change for the ticket machine but the goblins of mischief relented and the meter accepted her slew of silverware. Soon she was on her way to the police station on foot.

  There was a plethora of entrances but she ran up the steps to the public reception. There was an open waiting area, doors with buzzers and keypad entries, and one man behind a sheet of plastic under a sign marked “Enquiries.” He was writing in a notebook but he looked up as Penny hurled herself into the reception area.

  “I’m looking for Cath! Detective Constable Pritchard!” she said breathlessly.

  He seemed to take forever to lay down his pen and reply. “Now then. Is she expecting you?”

&nbs
p; “Yes. No. No! I left her a message. On her phone. She hasn’t replied. It’s urgent.”

  “And may I ask what it is concerning…?”

  “A murder!”

  He raised one eyebrow but his whole demeanour remained placid and unruffled. Even his tone of voice didn’t change. “Is anyone’s life in immediate danger? Have you dialled 999? I think there are many officers here who are capable of dealing with such incidents. Not just DC Pritchard. We’re all trained, you know. Even in Lincolnshire.”

  She ignored the jibe at her southern accent which marked her out as an incomer. “No, he’s already dead. I mean, it was a while ago. The murder. I’ve worked out who it was!”

  “The deceased? Do we know about it?”

  “Yes, of course you do. Please, is Cath here? Can you, I don’t know, radio to her or something?”

  The man laughed and shook his head. “Can I take your name, please, madam?”

  “Look, I–”

  One of the internal doors clicked and sprang open, and a very tall, very wide female officer came through, speaking to the man behind her. “That’s quite understandable, Mr Hart. Thank you for your time.”

  “Thomas! Oh my goodness, have you been arrested? Let him go,” Penny shouted to the bewildered officer. “He’s not the murderer!”

  “That I’m not!” Thomas said. “Hey, I recognise you. It’s the pest from the other night! Officer, this woman is harassing both me, and my wife. I’ve already spoken to the police about you. Haven’t they put a restraining order on you or something?”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Penny asked, smiling nervously at the frowning officers. This could get messy.

  “No.” He glowered at her. “They asked me to come and talk about my wife, that’s all. Not that it is any of your business.” He shook his head, and looked suddenly sad. “There’s a murderer out there and all they can do is bother innocent people. My brother, murdered. I know we hadn’t got on, but he was still my brother. And he didn’t deserve what happened to him. None of it. All his life.”

  “Where is Eleanor?” Penny said desperately.

  He shrugged. “It’s none of your business,” he repeated.

  She pulled out the piece of paper with the threat scrawled on it. “Well, she sent me this! Now who is harassing who?”

  “You said you were here about a murder,” the desk sergeant said from behind the plastic screen. “Not harassment.”

  “I am. I’m here about both, I suppose. Please. I know I haven’t made a great first impression but it’s about the murder of David Hart. Thomas is innocent…”

  “I know,” Thomas said angrily. “I just told you that.”

  “But his wife is not!” Penny blurted out, loudly.

  “How dare you!”

  “Listen. Please.” She waved the paper in the air. “I’m sorry, Thomas. I suppose you knew that before you married Eleanor, she was involved with your brother David? And that she … oh goodness, this is horrible, I am so sorry. But while you’ve been married…” She couldn’t say it.

  But he could. He went puce in the face and muttered, “Yes, yes. I know. She had affairs. I am not good enough for her.”

  “Oh, Thomas.” Penny did feel pain for the man. But she continued. “So, well, so she did have these affairs. And maybe one was with David. But when Mary started seeing David, Eleanor was jealous. She couldn’t stand it. I know you’ve got some device like a Taser or something, Thomas. Eleanor had access to it. Maybe she didn’t mean to kill him, but … but now he is dead.”

  “Have you any evidence for these serious accusations?” the tall female officer asked.

  “I’ve got the threats she sent me – and Mary.”

  “Mary?” Thomas said. “What threats?”

  “I know Mary hasn’t reported it, but she has had some of these letters too. Mary Radcliffe,” she added for the benefit of the officers. “It’s all about the farm, and jealousy, but not from Thomas. Eleanor was jealous of the money David had. The fact that the farm should never have gone to him, according to…”

  Thomas hung his head. “According to my father.”

  “Did you know about David’s parentage?” Penny asked.

  “I never knew who his real father was, no. But from an early age it was obvious that something was different about David. At first I followed my father’s lead. He would bully him something terrible. Then I just wanted to get away. Maybe that was spineless of me, I don’t know, but it was like I was being asked to choose between my parents and I couldn’t, so I left. I was glad when he got the farm, I really was! David was a good farmer.”

  “I believe you,” Penny said. “Did David know his real father?”

  “Until recently, he didn’t even know our dad … my dad … wasn’t his real father.”

  Penny was shocked. “You knew, but he didn’t? How did he find out?”

  “He heard it through gossip and rumours.”

  “Who gossiped?” Penny asked, fearing she knew the answer. More things were falling into place. She felt desperately sad for both David and Thomas, two half-brothers who had argued yet who were linked together more than they realised.

  “Mary, of course,” Thomas confirmed. “She found out, and she talked. And David heard about it … what a way to find out. He never ought to have found out. It shouldn’t have mattered. It’s why I never said anything. What would be the point?”

  And that was why Mary was feeling so guilty. When David had been found dead, and they’d thought it was suicide at first, she must have been distraught, and blamed herself, Penny thought. What a mess. “And Mary knew because Eleanor told her?” Penny asked.

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  Penny looked imploringly at the officer standing beside Thomas. “You must find Eleanor!” she told her. “She is the killer. Don’t you see, Thomas? I’m so sorry.”

  The female officer twisted her mouth and frowned. “Hmm. Let’s back up a moment. This Taser or whatever …”

  Thomas’s shoulders sagged even further. “Yes. I did have one. I do. I did. The thing is, it went missing, and of course I didn’t report it because I should never have had it in the first place.”

  The officer behind the screen stood up. The female officer next to Thomas appeared to get even taller.

  “You had a Taser and it went missing…” she repeated. “Right. I suggest you tell me where we might find your wife, sir. And don’t even think about telling me it’s none of my business…”

  The police station seemed to erupt into action around them, but Penny was a still and silent centre as the officers whirled around. She was asked to step to one side, and then ushered into a bare waiting room, and after half an hour was offered a pale cup of tea.

  She paced and she prowled as she waited for news, until finally Cath appeared in the doorway, smiling.

  “We’ve got her.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I think summer is finally here!” Mary announced as she entered the community hall looking as unsummery as it was possible to be, in her long black skirt and fringed purple cardigan.

  Everyone else at the craft group was wearing pale pastels and fanning themselves with pieces of paper, including Penny. She greeted Mary with a wave and a nod, and the older woman immediately ambled over and took a seat next to Penny.

  The others didn’t sidle away, exactly, but Mary couldn’t attract close friends, even after the truth came out about the murder, and how she’d been an unwilling victim of the hate mail sent by Eleanor. People were sympathetic to her plight, but no one could forget how harmful her particular type of gossip was.

  But Penny had time for her. She felt a strange bond of obligation to Mary; they’d both received those letters and they shared the fright and pain of it. They had attended some craft fairs together, and Penny had been surprised at how much fun she had. The fun factor was increased by the fact she actually earned some money, of course.

  Although it was somewhat awkward when Mary’s sales still
consistently didn’t even cover the cost of her table hire.

  Ginni came up behind them as Mary unloaded her cards and papers onto the table. “Mary, Penny. Oh, Penny! What a lovely drawing.”

  Penny was finishing a sketch of Kali. She’d used a range of dark, soft pencils and a looser style than she usually employed. She was quite pleased with it, and thought that it might make a nice set of prints for coasters and table mats and the like. “Thank you.”

  “How is she doing?” Ginni asked. “Your dog, I mean. I saw you walking with her when you first moved in but didn’t manage to say hello … you were being dragged at some speed along the road, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m pleased to say that hardly ever happens now. Unless I walk her close to her feeding time and she decides she wants to get home.”

  Ginni laughed. “I’m glad to hear it. Well done.”

  * * * *

  Drew must have been lying in wait for her as she left the hall to walk home. He was leaning against a wall, and pushed forward as soon as he spotted her. He was wearing his standard set of faded jeans, but as a nod to the warm sunshine, he was sporting a white tee-shirt rather than his lumberjack shirt or enormous and ragged-elbowed jumper.

  “Now then,” he said in greeting.

  “Now then,” she replied, grinning. How Lincolnshire was she? “How is the business going?” she asked, as he fell into step alongside her.

  He laughed. “Depends on who you listen to. I was in the mini-market last week, and I overheard Agatha telling everyone within earshot that it was such a shame my blacksmithing business has failed. They were all clicking their tongues and saying I seemed like such a nice young man, how tragic.”

  “But it hasn’t failed. You’ve changed direction, that’s all. Did you set them right?”

  “No, there’s no point. I’m doing something dangerously different and I am something to be feared.”