Foul Play at Four

by Ann Purser

  Another knock at the door, and in came Robert, smart in his city suit and clutching a bulging briefcase, ready for the day. “How are you this morning, Mother?” he said.

  “Much better, thank you,” Mrs. Tollervey-Jones said. “In fact,” she continued, “if you could make the arrangements, I shall be fine to return to Farnden tomorrow. I intend to make some telephone calls to enlist the help of Mrs. Meade and her team.”

  Robert sat on the edge of her bed. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “You know you are very welcome to stay here for as long as you like.” He knew that she knew and Felicity knew that this was not entirely true, but it was necessary to say it.

  “Very kind, my dear,” she said. “And I promise I shall be extremely sensible and do exactly as the doctor recommends. And now off you go. Have a nice day, as the Americans say.”

  Robert went slowly downstairs and put his head round the kitchen door. “She says she’s going tomorrow,” he said. Felicity could not suppress a smile. “Oh, good. I mean, good that she’s feeling well enough. I shall do all I can to help her. I’ll warn the bureau that I can’t be in tomorrow. Do you think it would be a good idea if I drove her down to Farnden? Then I could see her safely settled in.”

  “Brilliant!” said Robert. “You’re an angel.” He blew her a kiss, and left for the city.

  AT ABOUT THIS TIME, DEREK AND LOIS DROVE UP TO FARNDEN Hall and parked in the stable yard, not far from where Derek had been felled to the ground. He had reluctantly agreed to see the doctor before deciding to go back to work, and had been given advice on looking out for indications of concussion and advised to take the rest of the week off. “Go for a nice walk with Lois,” the doctor had said. He had been looking after the Meade family for years, and knew they seldom missed a day’s work, and almost never took a holiday.

  “A walk?” said Lois. “Where? And what for?” On hearing what the doctor had recommended for Derek, she reluctantly agreed, and then suggested they walk round Farnden Hall park. “The trees are lovely at the moment,” she said innocently.

  “You don’t fool me, Lois Meade,” Derek said. “A walk round Farnden park means a spot of ferretin’ on the side. Well, why not?” he added, saying he would dearly like to see those two thugs brought before the beak.

  “Talking of beaks, have you heard when Mrs. T-J is coming back?”

  “You’re more likely to have heard than me,” Derek answered. “She’ll ring us, I daresay.” He walked over to the kitchen door and tried it. “Still locked, I’m glad to say. No signs of breaking and entering. Perhaps they were frightened off by Derek Meade’s reputation for being a hard man, dangerous if crossed, let alone knocked on the head.”

  “Yeah, an’ pigs might fly,” said Lois. “More likely heard of New Brooms’ sideline, and I don’t mean Andrew’s interior décor business.”

  They walked out of the stable yard, through the high wall into the kitchen garden.

  “Sssh!” Derek said, grabbing Lois’s arm and standing quite still. He pointed to the corner of the garden, where a figure in a dark jacket was bent over, his head down, clearly unaware of their presence.

  Lois gently removed his hand, and began to walk forward. “Jack?” she called, smiling at Derek’s horrified expression. “Lovely morning! Just the weather for a spot of gardening.”

  Jack Hickson straightened up and waved a hand. “Morning, Mrs. Meade. And is that Derek? Don’t often see you two out together! Nothing wrong with Paula, or the kids, is there?” he added, suddenly anxious.

  Lois assured him that all was fine. Paula would be up in the house soon, and she and Derek were just checking that there’d been no break-ins or vandalism. “Amazing how quickly news of an empty house, especially one with valuables in it, gets round the criminal fraternity,” Derek said.

  “And are you feeling better?” Jack continued. “Heard you’d had an accident up here.”

  Derek sighed. How did news travel so fast in villages? Of course, he knew the answer. The shop, the pub, the nursery school and, most important, the gossips network. “Yep, thanks,” he said. “Nothing serious anyway. Better get back, Lois.”

  “We’ll leave you to it, then, Jack,” Lois said, sensing they were on dangerous ground. Then she remembered that Jack was once more part of a team of municipal gardeners in Tresham, and might well have heard of two brothers working the area for quick opportunities.

  She turned back, and added, “You know Josie had cash taken from the shop? They ain’t got no further finding the couple of villains who took it. I suppose you haven’t heard about a couple of brothers who’ve scarpered, have you?”

  Jack leaned on his spade in time-honoured gardener’s fashion, and considered. “Don’t remember anything. But if I hear anything useful, I’ll let you know.”

  Lois’s mobile ringing interrupted the conversation, and she answered it, mouthing “Mrs. T-J!” at Derek.

  “How are you, Mrs. Tollervey-Jones? Oh, that’s good. How can I help you? We’re keeping an eye on the house for you. Paula’s coming up later, and Derek and I are here checking locks an’ that. Sorry, when did you say? The signal’s rubbish round here. Tomorrow? Oh, no, that’s no trouble. We’ll check everything, do some shopping for you and make sure all’s ready. Your daughter-in-law? Oh, that will be very nice. We’ll make up a bed in the blue bedroom, shall we? Fine. Anything else you think of, just give me a ring. What time do you think you’ll be arriving? About midday? Fine. Paula can be here to make sure everything is tickety-boo.”

  Derek and Jack looked at each other. “Going to be back by herself, is she?” Jack said.

  “No, her daughter-in-law will stay for a day or two,” Lois said.

  “And then she’ll be alone again,” Derek said. “It’s not right.”

  Jack nodded. “She needs a companion, or some such.”

  “Or sell up and move to a smaller house with neighbours.” Derek looked worried. He was remembering how easy it must have been for the brothers to get into the house. An old lady, even one so authoritative as Mrs. T-J, wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Well, one thing at a time,” said Lois. “Maybe her son’s talked some sense into her while she’s been there. Anyway, I must get back and make all the arrangements. Come on, Derek. You can come shopping with me and carry the groceries.”

  “No fear,” said Derek. “I’m safer going back to work.”

  Jack laughed. “See you, mate,” he said.

  FIFTEEN

  THE NORRINGTONS’ DRAWING ROOM HAD BEEN RESTORED, more or less, to its former elegance, and Melanie and Geoff stood at the long windows looking out at the autumn garden.

  “I’ll never feel the same about this house,” Melanie said. “It’s like it was smirched.”

  “It was what?”

  “Smirched—you know, dirtied up, too dirty to be cleaned.”

  “Besmirched, I think you mean,” Geoff said loftily. “And anyway, that’s all rubbish. It’s just the same house. A few things missing, maybe, but all replaceable. Next thing you’ll be saying you want to move.”

  “I do,” Melanie said. “I’ll never feel comfortable again in this place.”

  Geoff hit his forehead with the flat of his hand, and swore. “Oh no! So we’ve got to go through all that searching, all over again?”

  Melanie turned to look at him. “Yes,” she said. “And if you won’t, I will. You can even stay here if you want. I’ve got that money from Mum and Dad. That’ll buy me something round here. A little cottage for one.”

  “Melanie, darling!” Geoff suddenly realised that she meant it. Surely she must know that in spite of his little peccadillos, she always came first? He could not imagine life without Melanie. He turned the full force of his charm on her, took her in his arms and explained exactly why he was perfectly prepared to do anything she wished. Her happiness was all he cared about. They would start looking at once, to see what was on the market.

  “So you’d better get hold of your décor chap and cancel
the order,” he said. “You can say that we’ll certainly use him in the future, when we find the right house.”

  Melanie softened. “All right, then,” she said. “But no backing out. And you can take me along on some of your trips abroad. Other men do, so why not you? Now, I’ll go and ring Andrew straightaway. We shall have to pay him for what he’s done so far. But that’s only fair, and he’s a nice chap.”

  ANDREW WAS FAR FROM PLEASED. HE HAD BEEN SENT BY LOIS TO help Felicity Toller vey-Jones and Paula sort out cupboards and stores up at the hall. Lois herself would come along later to see how they were getting on. Yesterday’s return to Farnden had gone smoothly, and Mrs. Tollervey-Jones had been pathetically pleased to see her old mare in the stable. Loud whinnying had greeted her, and she had remembered to put a couple of Polo Mints in her pocket.

  Felicity and Paula had liked each other at once. They had compared notes about children and schools, and although they were worlds apart, the job of managing Mrs. T-J soon brought the two together. Now that Andrew had arrived to help them with heavy lifting, they were having a major sort-out in the kitchen and outhouses, making piles of old tins and boxes. Andrew had just come across half a roomful of old newspapers, neatly tied into bundles, dating back to the nineteen sixties, when his mobile rang. It was Melanie Norrington, and Felicity watched as his face fell.

  “Of course. I quite understand,” he said. “Yes, I’ll let you have an invoice. Shame, really. I had really looked forward to getting it right for you. But I quite understand,” he repeated.

  Paula, who knew all about the commission, realised at once what had happened. “Has she cancelled?” she said.

  “’Fraid so.” He explained why, shrugged and suggested they get on.

  “Are they looking for another house, then?” Felicity asked. “Presumably they’ll want to stay around here?”

  “Yep, she said they’d be looking straightaway,” Andrew said. He heaved a pile of newspapers out into the yard, and walked away into the kitchen garden.

  “Poor Andrew,” said Paula. “He’ll be back in a few minutes. Probably gone away to have a good curse.”

  “What kind of people are they?” Felicity asked. “Moneyed, I suppose, if they’d commissioned Andrew to do a complete décor design?”

  Paula shook her head. “I only know that Mrs. Norrington had told Andrew that money was no object. So I suppose they’ve got plenty. I think her husband’s in business of some sort. Goes abroad a lot.”

  “How interesting,” said Felicity, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. “I must see if Robert has heard of them. Norrington, did you say?”

  By the end of the afternoon, the three had done a great deal of work and had managed to keep Mrs. Tollervey-Jones from interfering, and when Lois turned up, she suggested they all sit round the kitchen table and have a cup of tea before Paula and Andrew went home. Mrs. T-J was resting in her room. With much sympathising with Andrew, Lois took over the teapot, and began to pour, when Felicity turned to see her mother-in-law at the door.

  “Ah, there you are,” she said. “I thought I heard happy voices. Andrew, please draw up a chair for me. And, Felicity, find me a cup, please. Now I want to have a talk with you all, and I want some honest answers.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to—” Felicity began.

  “No, I wouldn’t, thank you. I shall be better in here. It’s warm and wonderfully tidy and clean, after all your efforts. As for all that!” She waved her hand towards the piles of stuff in the yard. “It looks as if I’m moving house.”

  Nobody spoke for moment, and then Felicity asked what exactly they were to discuss.

  “My future,” said Mrs. T-J. “I have three alternatives, and although I shall, of course, discuss them with Robert”—here she smiled at Felicity, who nodded gently—“I would very much like to know what you young folk think is the best solution. After all my years on the bench, I have a healthy respect for the views of young people, and find they are often able to see more clearly than those of us encumbered by experiences of the past.”

  Lois could not believe what she was hearing. Mrs. T-J asking for advice! A new Mrs. T-J? She must have had a really scary attack in London, poor old soul. And how nice that she thought of those present as young people!

  When Felicity, too, had recovered from her surprise at this development, she wondered what her mother-in-law was about to reveal. She suspected the financial situation of the estate would not be mentioned. It was not done to talk about money.

  As Mrs. T-J began to explain her situation, it was clear that Felicity was right. The three alternatives were all to do with her advancing years, possible ill health and her approaching retirement from the magistrates court, giving her much more free time to develop her other interests. “Including my grandchildren,” she said with another smile for Felicity. “We have the flat in London, which I intend to keep, and though I mean to have Farnden village as my anchor, I do not need eight bedrooms, and all that goes with them.”

  “So,” said Andrew, warming to the possibility of new commissions. Conversion into flats? Restoring one of the estate cottages as a dower house? “How exactly do you plan to proceed, Mrs. T-J?”

  “First alternative,” she replied, her voice getting stronger, “I divide the house into several apartments, reserving one for myself. Or two, I carry on in the house as I am, but broadening my interests by diversifying into sundry attractions and opening up to the public. And three, selling up the entire estate, and moving into a smaller house in the village, where I shall not be isolated and vulnerable.”

  “And free to come and go as you fancy,” said Felicity firmly. “With Mrs. Meade to keep an eye on a village house while you are away. Perfect!”

  Lois stared at her. This was the first time she had met Felicity, and immediately warmed to her. She seemed pleasantly straightforward and genuinely concerned about Mrs. Tollervey-Jones. But how would her mother-in-law react to this positive piece of advice? She waited for a very firm put-down, but it did not come. On the contrary, Mrs. T-J nodded and said sadly that she thought her daughter-in-law would say that, and perhaps she was right. “But what about you other three? What do you think?”

  “I like the idea of opening up to the public,” Paula said, thinking of how much fun her children would have in the park.

  “You could combine conversion into flats, retaining one for yourself, with the second plan, opening up to the public and having things like a children’s zoo, and perhaps an adventure playground?” Andrew’s suggestion was not entirely altruistic, as he could envisage months of décor work on interior design in half a dozen new flats.

  “Sorry, but I don’t agree,” said Lois firmly. “I see that as too much work for you, Mrs. Tollervey-Jones, and you’d see all and sundry messing up your estate every time you looked out of the window. Am I right? No, I reckon you should go for the third option. Sell up to some rich bloke who would enjoy living here and make the most of it. You could find a nice house in the village, with a decent garden to give you privacy, but with neighbours around. People you have known for years. And New Brooms would look after the house when you wanted to go up to see your family. Andrew here could make the village house look like a palace!” she added, with a consoling glance at Andrew.

  “Well, that’s certainly a comprehensive plan!” Mrs. T-J said. “A completely fresh view of the situation. Thank you, Mrs. Meade, and your team. It has all been most helpful. I feel now that after conferring with Robert, I shall be able to make my decision very soon.”

  “Phew!” said Andrew after she had made her way back to the drawing room. “That was unexpected.”

  “And really, really useful,” Felicity said.

  SIXTEEN

  DOT NIMMO USUALLY CARRIED A TRAY OF BREAKFAST FOR AN extra hour in bed on Sunday mornings. She had a small television on a table at the end of her bed, and as she said frequently to her sister, Evelyn, “I feel like Lady Muck, sitting there with my tray brought in by the butler. Exc
ept,” she added, “I ain’t got no butler. I could really do with a young and handsome butler now and then!” This would usually be followed by a fruity cackle, which never failed to shock her prim sister. But this morning, she knew that she would have to catch her no-good cousin before he went off to the golf course, and after downing a cup of strong tea and a stale toasted teacake, she dialled his number.

  “Whatcha want at this ungodly hour, our Dot?” He was richer than most gentlemen, but had not acquired a gentlemanly polish along with his wealth.

  “Two brothers,” said Dot, coming straight to the point, “name of Mowlem. Odd job men. Jobs of all sorts tackled, including petty theft and a bit o’ knocking about if needed. What d’you know about them?”

  “Enough,” said her cousin. “Couple o’ useless gits. Father inside for a stretch. They got no idea how to make a good livin’ at it. Steer clear o’ them, Dot. That’s my advice. Must go now—”

  “Hang on a minute. They’ve disappeared, so their mum says. She don’t know where they’ve gone. At least, that’s what she told the cops who came asking. But they don’t believe ’er, and no more do I. Got any ideas where they might have holed up?”

  “Why d’you want to know? Feeding info to your boss, are yer? Well, it so happens that I ain’t got no idea, but if I had, I wouldn’t tell you so’s you could pass it on to Mrs. Nosey. They may be useless gits, but we all got to hang together in this business. Cheero, Dot. Nice speaking to yer.”

  “What a berk!” Dot said to the moth-eaten parrot in the corner. It looked at her with its rheumy eyes, and did not answer.

  “Well, that means another visit to our Gladys,” Dot said. “An’ then I’ll pop over and see Mrs. M. She’ll be at home of a Sunday morning. I can ’ave a word with Derek, too. I like that Derek. He’s a good bloke.”

  The parrot still did not answer, so Dot got herself ready and set off for the rough quarter of town where the Mowlems had lived for years.