Foul Play at Four

by Ann Purser

  Derek leapt to his feet, just as anxious as Gran to hear from Lois. The extra day she had announced was odd. It was unlike her to prolong a holiday because of the weather. And she would not normally be so concerned that Dot should have the benefit of another fine day. Lois was kindhearted, but she was also a good businesswoman, and an extra day’s absence from work would outweigh a small indulgence for Dot Nimmo. No, Lois was concealing something from him, and he knew, of course, what it was. She was ferretin’ again, on the trail of some villain, and he could guess which one, or ones. It was all to do with the snatch and grab in Josie’s shop, and possibly the same ones who’d knocked him out cold up at the hall. He knew Lois would not rest until she had those thugs inside.

  “Hello? Is that you, Lois?” Gran shouted. The north was a long way off.

  Lois replied that it was her, and she didn’t have much time. How was everything? Gran said all was going swimmingly, and they were looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. And were they having a good time? What had they done this morning? Lois answered briefly that they had had a lovely walk across the moors, and yes, Dot was fine.

  “Me now, Gran,” Derek said, taking the phone from her. “Hello, love. How’s things?”

  “Fine. Just thought I’d ring and see that everything was okay. Can’t talk for long. Money’s running out. Yes, we’ve been walking. This afternoon? Dot wants to find a small chapel that some man built himself, and there’s carvings an’ things. Yes, it is unlike Dot! But she read about it in a book, and wants to take me to have a look, Yes, it is quite a sacrifice on her part. So, yes, I am pleased. Anyway, must go now. See you tomorrow. Bye.”

  Derek signed off sadly, wishing Lois would occasionally say, as Josie did all the time to Matthew, “Bye, love you.” But then, it wouldn’t be his Lois. She sounded in a hurry anyway. He turned to Gran and said, “I shan’t be really happy until those two are back safely in Farnden.”

  Gran was frowning. “Her voice sounded funny. Maybe not a good signal. Mind you, I could hear the sound of an ambulance siren quite clearly. Oh well, better get on. You should have been gone up to the hall hours ago. I suppose everything has to be working properly if the place is up for sale.”

  “Yeah, some more people coming to look over it tomorrow, and the yard light has broken again. It falls off the wall about three times a year, and it chose today to do it again. I’ll see you later, then.”

  He drove slowly up to the hall, his mind still with Lois up north. A nice long walk on the moor, Gran had reported. Most unlike Lois, and Dot Nimmo, too, come to that. Ah well, all would be clear tomorrow when they got back. Or as clear as Lois decided to make it.

  He parked in the stable yard at the rear of the hall, and got out. The kitchen door was open, and he could see Mrs. Tollervey-Jones at the sink. Washing up her lunch things, no doubt. There was that brand-new dishwasher installed, and she never used it. He had seen piles of beautiful china dinner services and teacups and saucers galore in the cupboards, so she wouldn’t be able to say she’d run out of crocks before it was full. He supposed the new owner would take it on, unless he moved in and changed everything, like most people did. It was a puzzle to Derek why people bought a property because they liked it, and then proceeded to turn it into something quite different.

  “Morning, Derek!” Mrs. Tollervey-Jones was standing at the door now, smiling and wiping her hands dry. “Have you heard from the travellers?”

  Now how did she know about Lois and Dot? Because she had her sources of information, he supposed. Probably why she was such a good justice of the peace. What Mrs. Tollervey-Jones didn’t know about this area was not worth knowing.

  “Bad day yesterday,” he replied, “but they’re having a good time today. Walking on the moors and going to see a chapel in the woods.”

  “How lovely! I can’t think of anything nicer. I only wish I was with them, instead of showing frightful people round the ancestral home.”

  The thought of Mrs. Tollervey-Jones marching along, with Lois and Dot trailing behind, was too much for Derek, and he laughed delightedly. “Now, Mrs. Tollervey-Jones,” he said, “we have work to do. I was going to suggest moving the light fitting. There’s so much loose stonework around it, it’d do better in a new place.”

  He was up a ladder when a big car cruised into the stable yard. A florid-faced man got out, and as he approached the door, he heard Mrs. Tollervey-Jones’s voice. “I thought your appointment was tomorrow, Mr. Norrington,” she said firmly.

  Geoff Norrington was equally firm, not to be intimidated by old ladies, especially by one old lady trying to sell him a house. Well aware that times were hard, he knew that Farnden Hall could be regarded by some as a huge white elephant. He expected to strike a bargain that took this into account. “I just need to check a few things,” he said confidently and walked swiftly past her and into the house.

  AFTER HE HAD GONE, MRS. TOLLERVEY-JONES SANK DOWN ONTO her husband’s chair in the study. “Oh dear,” she muttered. “You would not be pleased with me, my dear,” she addressed the stern face in the photograph on the desk. “Selling up is bad enough, but selling to a greasy oaf like that is a double sin.”

  She took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. It would be all right once the place was sold and she was safely ensconced in her new home. A suitable house in Farnden had become vacant, and she was negotiating the purchase. She felt quite excited at the prospect now. It was a lovely old house, reputed to have been a priory, and the gardens were manageable and full of old trees and shrubs, protecting it from the road. A high stone wall surrounded it, and she would have complete privacy, and at the same time be surrounded safely by the rest of the village.

  That dreadful Norrington had unsettled her, but not for long. She would telephone Lord & Francis and see what exactly they had found out about the man. He was such an unlikely prospect as owner of an ancient, traditionally owned and run estate, that she was horribly afraid that he would do totally unacceptable things to it, and the village would blame her for betraying a long-held trust.

  Lord & Francis were helpful. The nice young man who had come down to discuss the sale reassured her. “We make all the necessary financial enquiries,” he said, “and would not dream of proceeding unless these are completely satisfactory. We have begun in the case of Mr. Norrington, and so far there seem to be no problems.”

  Mrs. Tollervey-Jones reminded him that there was some urgency in the matter, and again was reassured that they had not forgotten. “After all,” he said with a light laugh, “it is just as much in our interest as yours to make sure the man is sound.”

  THE MAN IN QUESTION, GEOFF NORRINGTON, RETURNED HOME IN a good mood, and his wife once more began to hope that she would one day be lady of the manor. “So it looks as if it will go ahead?” she said, patting him on the shoulder as she leaned over to look at documents that he had in front of him on the table.

  He shook her off rather abruptly, and put his hands over the paperwork. “I’m busy now,” he said, “but I could do with a coffee.”

  The truth, which he had to conceal from Melanie, was that his newly acquired wealth was not nearly as secure as he was able to pretend. In a way, of course, he assured himself, it was safe as houses. His old friend, who had made millions from an invention to do with washing machines, had been keen to invest in Geoff’s project. This was an ingenious idea, a real winner, in Geoff’s view. He had come across a small outfit making baby food. Because of the recipes, which included a magic ingredient guaranteed to appeal to even the fussiest toddler, they had already hit the market running. The secret additive was rumoured by a few to be bad for a baby’s emerging teeth, and as such might not be recommended, and could even be banned.

  So far, so good. Geoff had been assured that the rumours were false, and there was no evidence to prove them right. He intended to buy the company and expand it to challenge existing brands. To him, it looked a doddle. All he needed was money, and his friend had promised to stump up. But many
a slip twixt cup and lip, as his old mother used to say, and for the moment he intended to keep the details to himself.

  “Darling, I’m not being nosy!” Melanie protested. “Just interested. After all, my share of the sale of this house will be part of the purchase price, won’t it? But anyway, you deal with it all, and I’ll concentrate on making coffee.”

  A silence fell between them, and then, when the coffee was made and handed out, Melanie said that she had a request. Geoff looked up, irritated at being interrupted whilst making calculations. “Go on, then,” he said.

  “Can I tell young Andrew that we’ll definitely be using him, if all goes through? Such a nice youngster, and I loved what he had in mind for this house. I won’t commit. Just tell him he’ll get the job, if all goes well?”

  “If that’s what you want,” said Geoff, who had not really been listening. Whatever it was that Melanie had in mind, he could always revoke his permission if it proved unacceptable.

  THIRTY-THREE

  DOT WAS NOW CONVINCED THAT THIS WAS HARRY. EVEN covered with mud and in a decidedly poor way, he matched up to Gladys’s jaundiced description. He was a funny colour now, and his breathing irregular. Dot held him close, smoothed his forehead and tried to warm his hands. The ambulance siren was very loud across the empty moorland, and Lois thought she had never heard a sweeter sound.

  The paramedics were very kind, congratulating Lois and Dot on the efforts they had made. “Don’t worry, girls,” the older one said, “we’ll have him in the hospital in no time. He’ll have every chance there.”

  With every care taken, Harry was placed gently onto a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. Jess stood by, held back by Lois from joining her master. Her whining and barking were such terrible expressions of despair that Dot asked the paramedics if the dog could come, too. On hearing the vestige of a moan from Harry, they said they would take the dog. She might help the old man to hold on.

  After the ambulance had departed as fast as it could manage over the rough ground, Dot and Lois sat down on hillocks of grass and said nothing for a while. Then Dot sighed. “Well,” she said. “What next, Mrs. M?”

  “Back to the car, I reckon. I’ve got no stomach for going over there to tackle the Mowlems, I’m afraid. Anyway, I think we’ve got our answer, without going to the farm to confirm.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “The phantom runner, scarpering like a bat out of hell. Over there, look, you can see the chimneys of the farmhouse. Getting as far away as he could from the scene of the crime, no doubt.”

  “That’d be Gerald. Young Clive wouldn’t hurt a fly. Always been led into mischief by his big brother. No, that’d be Gerald, an’ I reckon you’re right. The sooner we get away from here, the better. I always said he was not quite right in the head. Y’know, not always in control. Into rages, if he’s crossed. That kind o’ thing.”

  They walked quickly back to the car, locked themselves in and took out the picnic Lois had prepared. Dot accepted a sandwich, took one bite and turned a pale shade of green. “Sorry, Mrs. M, I don’t seem to be up to eatin’ anything just now.”

  Lois nodded. “Me neither,” she said, and put the sandwiches back in the bag. She pulled out a bottle of Guinness, knowing that it was Dot’s favourite. “We might manage this between us,” she said. They sat drinking in complete silence.

  Finally Dot spoke. “Let’s do the chapel thing,” she said. “Take our minds off it. But first, shouldn’t we phone the police?”

  Lois shook her head. “The medical lot will make contact and do a report,” she said. “We should stay out of it until they catch up with Gerald—or we do.”

  “But they might not know about Gerald,” Dot objected.

  “The old man will tell them. Remember what he said to you.”

  “It’s poor old Gladys I’m sorry for,” Dot said. “Nothing but trouble for her ever since she married that no-good and he fathered them boys. Bert were a friend of my husband, y’know. In the same line, in a manner of speaking. An’ a very crooked line it was, too!”

  Lois smiled, silently thanked God for giving her Dot Nimmo in times of trouble and started the engine. “Off we go, then,” she said. “Back to Pickering. It’ll be warmer down in the valley. Onwards and upwards!”

  “Downwards, I sincerely hope, Mrs. M,” said Dot, looking longingly at the way back into the valley of the River Esk.

  THEY HAD MADE ENQUIRIES AT THE TOURIST OFFICE, AND WERE told to take the road towards Kilburn, stop there and ask for directions to the chapel. Kilburn was a small village which, as soon as they drove in, Lois could see must be somewhere special to attract visitors. “Is this the place?” she asked. There were cars parked nose to tail, a sign outside a building with the unmistakable air of a museum, and a pub obviously doing a roaring trade.

  Dot shook her head. “No, the chapel is in the woods, it says here. We have to go up a track that goes off to the left, past a gliding club—that should be easy to spot!—and park where there’s another track branching off to the right.”

  “Do you want to stop here first? Make sure we got the right directions, and maybe have a look round?”

  Dot again shook her head. “Nope, nothing to keep us here,” she said. “Maybe on the way back.”

  “Mowlem wouldn’t come here anyway, with all these people,” Lois replied. “And we’re not looking for him at the moment. After we’ve found the chapel, I shall ring the hospital and enquire after the old man. If he’s improved an’ can talk, we might go hospital visiting.”

  They turned off into a narrow lane which wound its way uphill, past groups of walkers, some with dogs that reminded Lois about the sheepdog in the ambulance. “We must ask after the dog, too,” she said, and Dot, not a dog lover, said nothing.

  “There’s the gliding club!” she said, glad to change the subject. “Look at all them gliders!”

  “Ideal place for it,” Lois said. “A good way of escape for Gerald, d’you think?”

  Dot turned to look at Lois and frowned. “You’re joking, of course, Mrs. M. Anyway, wherever Gerald goes, Clive goes, too. An’ I reckon them gliders don’t seat more than one.”

  They drove on, until they came to a bend in the road and a track going off, looking like the one they wanted. Lois parked the car on a grassy verge, and they got out. She locked up carefully and they set off down the track. Several times, Dot wondered aloud if this was the right way, and maybe they should give up and go back into town. She wanted one or two souvenirs, she said. But Lois wouldn’t agree, and they marched on, coming to dense new woodland cut across by more sandy tracks.

  “I think we’re lost,” Dot said, stopping short of Lois, who was striding ahead.

  “Round this corner, then if we don’t see it, we’ll go back.” Lois was beginning to think she was right, and now she remembered Dot had complained of a blister on her foot. Perhaps Dot was in pain, and insisting on going on would be cruel?

  They walked on a couple of hundred yards, and with huge relief saw a clearing of lush green grass, a stone wall and a small, neatly built chapel with outbuildings to one side. “There it is,” said Lois, happily stating the obvious, and Dot said just as well, as she needed a rest.

  “Let’s go in now, and look around later,” Lois suggested, still thinking of the blister. “We could sit in a pew and eat a sandwich. My appetite’s come back, thank goodness.” But when Dot tried the door, it was locked, and she saw no other way of getting in. She walked around the little building and rejoined Lois, who had retreated to a dry spot to sit down.

  “There’s a gypsy round the back there,” Dot said, taking a sandwich and beginning to eat. “A gypsy woman with a baby.”

  “Really, Dot? Not just kidding?”

  “Yes and no,” Dot smirked. Her good humour was quite restored, now that they had found the chapel and could relax. “It’s a carving, and large as life if not larger. Really good, it is. Painted in bright colours and you could swear she moved her head!”<
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  “I’ll take a look in a minute. Meanwhile, I just happen to have another bottle of Guinness in that bag. Shall we indulge?”

  After a few minutes, Dot stopped eating and looked round into the trees behind her. “What was that!” she said, jumping to her feet.

  “What? I didn’t hear nothing,” Lois said, taking another swig.

  Dot said there had been the sound of footsteps crackling in the undergrowth. “Just like when we were in the Guides and had to learn tracking skills,” she said.

  “Could have been an animal,” Lois said. “Sit down again and finish your drink, then we’ll have a good look around.”

  Dot sat down reluctantly. “It’s a lonely place, Mrs. M, ain’t it. Nothing and nobody around. It’s a war memorial, y’know,” she added. “Built by this man who was difficult to live with. He got all this stone laid on and God knows what else, all to build this memorial. Makes you think, don’t it? All in memory of them soldiers an’ them that fought for our island.”

  “Have you still got the book? I wouldn’t mind reading it.” Lois could see that Dot was deeply impressed.

  “’Fraid not. Didn’t finish it. Bit too serious for me, Mrs. M. I gave it to the church jumble sale. A good cause. I thought the man would understand that.”

  Lois laughed. “Right, then,” she said. “Let’s have a walk round, and read the notices about the place, over there, where we came in. Then we’d better be getting back. I want to phone the hospital from the main road, where we’ll get a signal.”

  As they drove back slowly down the steep, winding lane, Dot once more marvelled at the line-up of graceful gliders, and Lois stopped the car for a second or two so they could have a better look. When she began to round the next bend, they met a car coming up towards them. It was a tight squeeze as both drivers pulled over to pass. Lois turned to give the usual wave and smile of thanks, but saw only the profile of the driver. She drew in a sharp breath. “Dot! Look at that bloke!” she said quickly. But the car had passed on.