Foul Play at Four

by Ann Purser

  “Why Yorkshire?” Matthew asked. He had been told by his chief inspector uncle to take seriously everything Lois Meade said. “She never wastes words,” he had advised. “Except when she talks to that daft dog,” Matthew had replied.

  Josie shrugged. “You know our mum. Always up to something. But what she said was that Dot Nimmo recommended a nice bed-and-breakfast place, and that Pickering— that’s where it is—is a good jumping-off place for touring the moors.”

  “So are you going?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t feel happy about leaving the shop at the moment. You know, after the burglary and everything . . .”

  “Mm. I think you’re probably right,” Matthew said, giving her a hug. “It’s a bit soon. You’ll just be fretting in case the thieves return. We’ve not caught up with those Mowlems yet.” He thought for a moment, and then frowned. “Yorkshire, you said?”

  “Yep. Pickering. Gateway to the moors.”

  “Right. Thanks. Now,” he added, releasing her, “is coffee still on offer? We need to make a plan.”

  “A plan? What for? I’ll just tell Mum I don’t want to go with her. She’ll go on her own quite happily.”

  “Even though the point of going was to give you a break?”

  “Oh, yes. There’ll be some other motive. Always is. Like when we went to the horse fair in Appleby. Come to think of it, that was pretty disastrous. I wouldn’t want to repeat that!”

  “Come on, then,” Matthew said firmly. “Let’s go in, and you can tell your mother in the morning. I’ll hold your hand.”

  “So no early duty?”

  Matthew nodded. “Oh, yes. Night duty. Guarding a vulnerable shopkeeper. Come on, in we go.”

  MATTHEW LEFT FOR WORK EARLY NEXT MORNING, AND JOSIE picked up the phone to speak to Lois. The sooner she let her know, the better. If her mother decided to go on her own, then there was certain to be an ulterior motive.

  Me, too, Josie reflected. I have a secondary reason, but for not going. Lois’s speedy driving was getting worrying. Perhaps we’re all more aware of speeding. One of Josie’s customers had been offered a speed awareness course, instead of points on her licence. She had been really shocked at how little she knew about regulations and warning signs. With Mum, Josie thought wryly, a couple of hours’ driving at a smart seventy miles an hour, regardless of speed limits, traffic signs and built-up areas, the law must soon catch up with her, and Josie felt she would rather not be there. It might even be Matthew who had to follow her with all sirens blazing!

  “Mum? Sorry I haven’t got back to you sooner. Busy in the shop, and then a film with Matthew.”

  “I saw his car go by first thing,” said Lois chattily. “Good film?”

  “Scary. Anyway, it’s the Pickering trip. I’m afraid the answer’s no. I just don’t feel like leaving the shop at the moment, and if those thugs did come back, it would be awful for Floss, and maybe even Gran. Thanks anyway for thinking of it. Matthew says he’ll take me for a weekend to the coast later on.”

  “Bognor?” said Lois, disappointment in her voice.

  “I dunno,” replied Josie. “Why? Is it a nice place?”

  “Never mind,” said Lois. “Now, I must get on. Got to go over to see the Norringtons this morning. Finalise a few things with Andrew.”

  Josie began to fill shelves in the shop. She could hardly bear to pile up cigarettes. Every time she bought new supplies, they reminded her of that horrible man. Maybe she would stop selling cigarettes and lighter fuel and roll-your-own papers. It’d be a kindness to her smoking customers, wouldn’t it? On the other hand, it wouldn’t stop them smoking. They’d just go elsewhere, and probably not come into her shop at all. The door opened and Derek appeared. “Morning, love,” he said.

  “Hi, Dad! What are you doing here so early?”

  “Just come to tell you not to worry about saying no to going to Yorkshire on this mad trip of your mother’s. It’ll be all right. She says she needs the break and will go on her own. So I’m going, too.”

  “You? Blimey! What did Mum say to that?”

  “She doesn’t know yet. But I’m sure she’ll be delighted.” He grinned, blew Josie a kiss and left the shop.

  Good old dad, Josie thought. He’ll probably drive, and that’ll be one more week she’ll stay out of the nick.

  ANDREW SAT BESIDE LOIS IN HER VAN, AND HELD ON TIGHT TO his seat. Wow! Next time he would offer her a lift in his car. They drew into the curving drive leading to the Norringtons’ house, and parked by the side gate.

  “We’re a bit early,” Lois said. “Better wait for a minute or two. Have you got the papers ready?” Andrew had wanted to forget about the whole thing, but Lois insisted that he should charge for the work he had already done, planning the décor. She had said she would like to come with him, partly to give moral support, and partly to ask a few tactful questions about the burglary. She was angry all over again about the theft in Josie’s shop. Now the poor girl would not leave it, in case they should come back. She would catch those two scumbags if it was the last thing she did!

  She looked at her watch. Just on ten o’clock. “Come on, then, Andrew. Let’s go and sort them out.”

  Geoff Norrington answered the door. He had stayed at home, saying that Melanie should leave the talking to him. He intended to pay them as little as possible, he said. After all, in his line of business, they tendered for jobs all the time, and didn’t expect to be compensated if they didn’t get the contract. Melanie protested that they hadn’t put this job out for tender, but had given the commission to Andrew straightaway. There was nothing wrong with his designs, and it wasn’t his fault that she could not bear to live in the house for longer than necessary.

  Lois looked at Geoff, smartly turned out in his city suit and old school tie. Which old school? she wondered. And what about those shoes!

  “Good morning, Mr. Norrington. I hope we’re not late,” she said, smiling confidently.

  “Come in,” said Geoff bluntly. “I haven’t got long. But this shouldn’t take long, should it? How much do you want?”

  They were still standing in the hall, and Lois began to wonder whether there would be any chance of having a discussion leading naturally to the subject of the burglary. She was rescued by a shout from Melanie in the kitchen.

  “Come on in, Andrew! And Mrs. Meade, too. Coffee’s ready. Have you got time for a cup, Geoff?”

  He returned reluctantly to the drawing room, leaving Lois and Andrew to follow behind. “Sit down, then,” he said, making it sound more like an order than an invitation. “Got your invoice?” he continued, holding out his hand.

  “Oh, Geoff! Coffee first, then business,” Melanie said, coming in with a tray of coffee. “Now then, black or white, Mrs. Meade?”

  Lois looked around the room. It was only the second time she had seen it, although Andrew had shown her his plans. It was a lovely room, with long windows looking out into the garden. Not a weed in sight.

  “You must be sorry to leave, Mrs. Norrington,” she said. “Such a lovely house.” It was then that she noticed the newspaper spread out on the long coffee table. It was open at property pages. “So have you found somewhere else to go that would suit you better?”

  Melanie looked at Geoff. “Well, yes and no,” she said, picking up the High Life section of the Tresham Advertiser. “Look, have you seen this? Just what we’re looking for!”

  “Not what I’m looking for,” grunted Geoff. “Melanie’s joking, of course.”

  Lois took the newspaper section and looked at the ads for country properties. “Oh my!” she said. “That was quick!” She handed it to Andrew.

  “Goodness!” he said. “This is going to rock the village!” He began to read the advertisement aloud: “Long Farnden Hall and estate. Mrs. Tollervey-Jones has instructed Lord & Francis to act on her behalf in the sale of, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.”

  TWENTY

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, DISCUSSION IN THE NORRINGTONS’ drawin
g room had turned to desirable residences, and one house in particular. Both Lois and Andrew had known that the sale of Farnden Hall was in the cards, but Lois was astonished by the speed with which Mrs. Tollervey-Jones had made up her mind and set the sale in motion.

  “I expect it will be in all the posh mags,” Melanie was saying. “I asked Geoff to bring some home, but he only grunted that the partics wouldn’t be in until next month. I reckon that if we show our interest straightaway, we stand a chance of getting a good deal.”

  “Perhaps it is a tiny bit beyond your price range? And won’t you want to view it thoroughly, get some expert advice?” said Andrew delicately. He was calculating rapidly just how many rooms at the hall would need the attentions of an interior decorator.

  “To tell you the truth, Andrew,” Melanie said, “I have absolutely no idea what our price range would be. Geoff is like an old tortoise as far as money is concerned. Keeps everything under his shell! All I do know is that if my husband sets his heart on something, he always gets it.”

  Lois thought to herself that it was clearly Melanie’s heart that was set on it, but she contented herself with supporting Andrew and offering New Brooms’ help in any way possible. “And of course,” she added, “if you should take over the estate, we have years of experience working there, and could be very useful to you at reasonable rates. After all, you’re almost old customers yourselves!”

  As she and Andrew drove back to Farnden, Lois cautioned against too much optimism. “I can’t think that Geoff Norrington would have that much lolly,” she said. “It’ll go for millions. Surely they would be living somewhere grander already, if he had?”

  “You can’t tell, Mrs. M. They could have just won millions on the lottery. It happens!”

  AT LUNCH, LOIS BROKE THE NEWS TO GRAN AND DEREK, AND although they and many people in the village were expecting it, they felt some shock at seeing it in black and white in the newspaper. It had been a brief early announcement from estate agents Lord & Francis, saying that this highly desirable property would be on the market, and giving details where further information could be obtained.

  “This will keep the gossips going for months,” Derek said. “Josie should see an upturn in trade. Everybody goes into the shop for the latest local news. Oh, and by the way,” he added, “talking of Josie, as she can’t come with you to Yorkshire, I’ve decided to have a miniholiday with you instead. Can’t remember the last time we went away together!”

  There was a noticeably muted reaction from Lois at this item of news. But Gran went overboard in encouraging the plan. “Everything will be fine here with me,” she said. “And you won’t have to make no arrangements for the shop. What a good idea, Derek! Don’t you agree, Lois?”

  “Well, yes. But Derek, aren’t you in the middle of that job over in Fletching? You can’t leave those people without the electric. Aren’t they expecting to move in next week?”

  “Nearly finished,” he replied happily. “Now, when shall we go? Today’s Thursday, so how about Saturday and come back Tuesday? We could start early, and then have Sunday and Monday full days, then leave after breakfast Tuesday? What d’you say?”

  “Um, right. Okay. I’ll have to get Hazel to take the Monday meeting. Are you sure you want to come, though, Derek?”

  “Quite sure. So off you go and book a double room at that bed-and-breakfast place Dot was recommending.”

  Lois hadn’t seen him so masterful in years. What had triggered off this new Derek? Suspicion, she decided. He thinks I’m going up there with Hunter Cowgill. She had a sudden vision of herself and the tall, elegant figure of Cowgill marching beside her across the moors, stopping at remote inns by the wayside . . .

  “Lois! Are you listening?” Gran was standing over her, offering her second helpings of rice pudding. “Do you want it or not?”

  “No thanks, Mum. That’ll be great, Derek,” she added firmly. “And we’ll take Jeems. She’d love it, speeding across the moors. That’s what her ancestors were used for. They hunted otters out of their hiding places in stone cairns.”

  “Fancy that!” Gran said. “You see, Lois. Derek is really interested in nature an’ that these days. You can borrow your dad’s binocliers to see the birds. He was very proud of those.”

  “Yes, well, maybe. It might rain all the time we’re there. Even Derek with his great love of nature won’t want to trudge about in wet clothes. There’s plenty of undercover things to do, though.” And so there would be, with luck. Undercover work was what she was about, and now she had to decide how to use Derek without him knowing.

  LOIS PLANNED AN AFTERNOON IN HER STUDY, DECIDING WHAT SHE wanted to find out in Pickering. She could do a lot on the computer, but with limited time and Derek in tow, it was not going to be easy. She had to find Harry Higgins and—with luck—the Mowlem brothers. Then she could report back to Cowgill with something definite for the police to follow up. She was well aware that there could be dangers in this plan. She would be looking for a remote farm on the moors, with two thugs and an elderly farmer, and no neighbours to call on. She began to think Derek’s presence would be a considerable bonus.

  The telephone rang ten minutes after Lois had settled down in front of her computer. It was Dot Nimmo, and she had a suggestion to make.

  “I bin thinking, Mrs. M. You and me have worked together in the past on some of your ferretin’ cases. Do you reckon it might be a good idea if I came to Pickering with you? I can remember quite a lot about it, and two heads are better’n one. I know you were thinking of taking your Josie, but she’s had a nasty shock, and you could easily run into trouble up there. You know I married into the criminal fraternity an’ I know their ways.”

  This was a long speech for Dot Nimmo, and Lois considered it seriously. She could see the sense in Dot’s suggestion, and said she’d think about it and ring her back this evening.

  WHEN DEREK RETURNED TO HIS JOB IN FLETCHING, HE WAS DISMAYED to come across a problem that he had not anticipated. The new owners of the house were not yet moved in, and he came and went as he wished. They had given him a key, and this arrangement suited him very well. Much better than having irritating housewives offering him cups of tea every five minutes.

  Now he sat back on his heels and realised that the wiring upstairs would need complete renewing. He had been hoping that it was just one bedroom, but now knew that it would not be a good job and could be trouble later on. He could not risk his reputation, and so faced the fact that he could not be finished in time to go with Lois on Saturday. Perhaps she could postpone her trip to Yorkshire? There did not seem to be any urgency, as far as he could see.

  He looked at his watch. Lois would need to know today. She was probably already booking the bed-and-breakfast accommodation and planning trips around Pickering. He should ring her right now, but perhaps half an hour wouldn’t make much difference. If he could think of another solution, he could avoid a tussle with her which he knew he would lose. This latest development would give Lois the perfect excuse to go on her own.

  TWENTY-ONE

  BUT I’VE ARRANGED EVERYTHING!” LOIS SAID. DEREK HAD suddenly appeared in the middle of the afternoon and told her that they would have to postpone the Pickering trip. She was just about to phone Dot and tell her that it wouldn’t be possible this time, but that it had been a really good idea, when Derek himself had turned up.

  “There’s nothing that can’t be unarranged, surely,” he said now. “If you let the landlady know at once, it’ll be okay, especially if we book another date. And you’ll be able to be at the Monday meeting as usual. Doesn’t seem too difficult to me.”

  “Well, it does to me. I have a busy schedule, as you know, and I’d already sorted out all of that. And anyway, Dot Nimmo phoned earlier and offered to come with me. I know she’s been a bit low lately, so she can come instead.”

  “Dot Nimmo?” Derek knew that this particular member of the New Brooms team was unpredictable and apt to make her own irregular decisions. In fac
t, he often thought Lois should consider replacing her. She had some very dodgy connections. “Are you sure about that, Lois?”

  She looked at his worried face, and felt a moment’s pang of guilt. But only a moment. She thought of Josie and the two thieves, and said firmly that she was quite sure. Dot could be good company, and she knew the area. “You know I’d rather it was you, but we can have a weekend at Bognor later, maybe.”

  Derek knew when he was beaten. It would be useless to argue, so he reluctantly agreed and said he felt much the same as George V about Bognor, and he would think about somewhere different for a minibreak very soon.

  “DOT, IS THAT YOU?” LOIS COULDN’T BE SURE. THE VOICE SOUNDED as if was coming from underwater. “Where are you?”

  “In the bath,” Dot said, spluttering. “Sorry, I nearly dropped me mobile. Sorry about that. Made up y’mind, have you?”

  “Yes. Derek was coming with me, but he’s got a problem on a job he’s doing. So if you’re still keen, I’ll fix it up. We have to go on Saturday, back Tuesday. That should give us plenty of time to look around. But we have to keep our heads down, too. Just a couple of women friends having a few days’ break. So no loud voice in cafés an’ that.”

  “As if I would!” said Dot. “I’m really looking forward to it. An’ don’t you worry about the expenses. Handy made sure I’d always have reserves.”

  “I wasn’t worrying. So listen, Dot.” Lois outlined her plan of action once they arrived in Pickering, and Dot managed to keep quiet and not interrupt. She offered to drive, but Lois said no, they’d go in the van. But then Dot pointed out that if they went in a van emblazoned with the words “We sweep cleaner,” they would not exactly be keeping their heads down. “We might as well take an ad in the local paper announcin’ our arrival!” So Lois reluctantly agreed.