Game of Scones--a Cozy Mystery (with Dragons)

by Kim M Watt

  “Yes,” she said. “Barry’s the only one out of Rainbow’s lot that sees you, anyway.” And he probably also sees little green men living in his ears, she added to herself, then wondered if there actually was any such thing.

  Beaufort patted Barry on the head. “Nice human,” he said encouragingly. “Off you go, now.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to go.” Barry started inspecting Beaufort’s wingtips.

  Miriam tugged Barry’s arm. “Get out of the car.”

  “But look at all the nice spirits!”

  Miriam tugged harder. “You can look at them later. Get out!”

  “Aw.” Barry reluctantly allowed himself to be removed from the car, and sat down cross-legged to watch.

  “Gilbert’s going to have to walk home,” Amelia said, with not a little satisfaction in her voice.

  “Are we going home?” Gilbert asked, his voice muffled behind the seats. “Why?”

  “You can come with me, Gilbert,” Beaufort said. “We’ll have a word with the dryad, scout around a bit.”

  Gilbert made a small sound that Miriam didn’t think exactly exuded enthusiasm.

  “What about us?” Amelia asked. She was red with excitement. “Do we attack? Slash tyres? Push tractors into ditches? Set their roofs on fire?”

  “No,” Beaufort and Miriam said together, both glaring at the tangle of dragons on the back seat.

  “No,” Miriam repeated. “This is a peaceful, human protest, remember.”

  “And the most important thing is that the Folk are not exposed,” Beaufort said. “No matter how much we want to stop the humans, we cannot endanger that. Mortimer, you’re in charge.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mortimer whispered, and Amelia made a dissatisfied noise.

  Beaufort reached out to pat Mortimer on the shoulder, but couldn’t quite find him, so he just said. “You’ll be fine. Come on, Gilbert.” And he hopped out of the car and trotted away, leaving the three younger dragons still trapped in the back seat.

  Miriam leaned in and flipped the seats forward, sending Gilbert sprawling half out of the passenger’s side. “Good luck,” she said.

  “You too,” Mortimer replied, and she gripped his forepaw for a moment, then stood back to let the dragons out of the car.

  “Spirits!” Barry shouted happily.

  Miriam leaned back against the bean bag she was sharing with Priya and looked up at the high arc of sky. Dark was still a while off, but the light was rich and the deepening blue above was scraped with orange and apricot clouds. Things had calmed somewhat as cake was shared and tea was poured, and the W.I. settled in for a night of potential protest. Rosemary had brought her knitting, and the needles clacked peaceably, audible even over the snoring of Pearl’s Labrador. Jasmine hadn’t let Primrose out of her carrier, which was a relief. The dragons would still be around somewhere, and Beaufort was horribly allergic. Miriam imagined more than one forest fire had been started by a sneezing dragon.

  “Tofu sausage?” Harriet asked, offering Miriam a pitta bread with the sausage sticking out of it like some strange stamen from a flower.

  “Thanks.” She took it and wriggled herself around until she could see Rainbow. “Is this really everyone?”

  Rainbow shrugged and took a bite of her pitta, leaning forward so the salsa dripped on the ground. “People only seem to like the glamorous protests these days,” she said around a mouthful of food. “You know, the ones that get on the telly and don’t involve having to sleep on site.”

  Miriam thought people had a point regarding being able to sleep in their own beds. She was rather impressed that the W.I. had rallied so quickly, even given the fact that most of them had come armed with deck chairs and folding tables. “I’m just worried there won’t be enough of us. You know, if there are a lot of machines.”

  Rainbow sighed. “There’s never enough,” she said. “But one has to keep trying.”

  Miriam tried a bite of pitta, discovering tomatoes and spice and a hint of herbs against the tofu and bread. One did have to keep trying. She took another bite. It was surprisingly good.

  Miriam was thinking that she should go back to the car to retrieve her phone, and to maybe call Alice and see how she was doing, when Rob hissed, “Car!”

  Everyone looked at him. He’d slid off his beanbag, pulling his hat down to hide his eyes. “Don’t let them see you!”

  “Who?” Pearl asked.

  “Them!”

  Miriam wondered if camping in a lay-by was actually legal. She didn’t fancy getting arrested before they’d even got around to doing anything illegal. She could hear the car now, slowing as it approached. “Is it coming here?” she asked no one in particular.

  Jemima ran to the road. “No! It’s going up the farm track! It must be them!” She had binoculars around her neck, and now she peered through them, then waved to Miriam. “Here! Hurry!”

  Miriam ran to the young woman as quickly as she could, not sure why she was being singled out, and feeling a little like she was back at school, when the popular girls only talked to her so they could laugh at her. Jemima thrust the binoculars into her hands. “Look!”

  Miriam looked, struggling to find the car at first as she swung the binoculars wildly across the fields. But then she got them pointed in the right direction, squinting as she tried to make out details while the car jounced down the track to the farm and the binoculars didn’t seem to be focused quite right on anything. There was a man in the back and a … she leaned forward, as if that’d make the view clearer. In the front was … someone. Soft grey hair falling almost to squared shoulders, the pose stiff, the gaze straight ahead, and it was all so familiar, but it was impossible to tell features from here, really. Wasn’t it?

  “Is it them?” Jemima asked. “The developers?”

  “I … I don’t …”

  The man leaned forward, saying something, and the woman in the front seat lifted her chin. It was a small movement, that anyone could have made, but it wasn’t anyone. Miriam couldn’t have said how she knew, but she did.

  “Is it them?” Jemima repeated, and Miriam ignored her. She ran to the Beetle, digging in the pockets of her jacket, dropping her keys, snatching them up, getting the car open and scrabbling around inside until she found her bag, shoved under the seat by dragon feet.

  “Miriam?” Beaufort whispered from the trees, but she ignored him, unlocking her phone and hitting dial with fingers that felt stiff and unnatural.

  “What’s going on?” Gert called.

  The phone rang, and rang, and clicked. “You’ve reached Alice Martin. Leave—”

  Miriam hung up, staring at the phone screen. This wasn’t how things were meant to happen. This was never how things were meant to happen. She looked up at the little group, leaving their seats and drinks and all looking at her, waiting for her to say something, expecting something of her, and for one moment she considered just getting in the car and driving away.

  But she couldn’t.

  She tried to speak, found the words stuck in her throat, cleared it again, and said, “That was Alice.”

  “Alice?” Jasmine asked. “But she’s under house arrest.”

  “House arrest?” Rob said. “Oh, nice. What’d she do?”

  Miriam shook her head. “Not arrest. Protection.”

  “Oh.” He lost interest, watching the car puttering up the lane to the farm. “What’s she doing there, then?”

  “I don’t think she’s there willingly.”

  “What?” Gert demanded, and a ripple of unease passed through the W.I. “What does that mean?”

  “She … I don’t know. She wasn’t meant to leave the house. She was under police protection. I think she’s been kidnapped.” The words sounded unreal.

  “She was kidnapped?” Priya asked.

  “I think maybe.”

  “Who was with her?” Gert asked.

  “I don’t know. A man, but I didn’t recognise him. And I couldn’t see the driver.”

 
; There was silence for a moment, then Rose said, “Two of them. Thirteen of us. Well, fourteen if you count Barry, and I’m not sure you really can.” They turned as a group to look at Barry, who was weaving twigs and weeds together to make a crown. Miriam thought it looked dragon-sized.

  She looked back at Rose. “Yes, but we don’t know what’s going on. We can’t just rush over there.”

  “We need to call the police,” Jasmine said.

  “Pigs,” the protesters chorused, although Harriet rather whispered hers.

  “My Ben isn’t a pig,” Jasmine protested.

  “Pig-lover,” Jemima said, looking like she was enjoying herself rather too much.

  “At least I take a shower now and then,” Jasmine retorted, and Primrose snarled from the bag.

  “Dreadlocks aren’t dirty! That’s just ignorance!”

  “This is really unhelpful,” Miriam said, although she wasn’t sure what would actually be helpful.

  “So what are we doing?” Gert demanded. “Calling the police or getting over there?”

  Miriam looked back over the fields. The car had stopped at a gate, and she could see someone getting out to open it.

  “The police’ll take ages to get here,” Rose said. “No one’ll be nearer than Skipton.”

  “Useless pigs,” Rainbow said.

  Miriam rubbed her forehead. “I wish you wouldn’t say that. Colin’s a wonderful detective.”

  “I still can’t believe a son of mine became a pig,” Rainbow said.

  “Traitor,” Rob added.

  “Oh, stop it,” Teresa said. “We can’t just stand here arguing when Alice is being taken off to some criminal’s lair!”

  “I say we go in,” Rose said, bouncing on her toes. Angelus bounded to his feet and started dancing around her. “We can disable the car. I brought sugar.”

  “Hell, yes!” Rob exclaimed. “Stick it to them!”

  “I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” Miriam said. “We don’t even know who else is there. Or what they might do.”

  “We’ll have to be careful,” Gert said. “Quick and quiet.”

  “Like ninjas,” Pearl added.

  “I’m not sure my knees are up to ninja-ing,” Rosemary said.

  “You should drink olive oil,” Carlotta told her.

  “Like in the old country?”

  “No, like on the diet programme.”

  “There could be anyone in there!” Miriam insisted. “We could make it worse!”

  “I’m not hanging around if you call the pigs,” Rob said. “They’ll probably arrest us and let them walk free, especially if they’re developers. It’s all about the money and the influence.” He spat on the ground, and Priya slapped his arm.

  “That is disgusting.”

  “Miriam?” Gert said. “We have to do something.”

  They were all looking at her again. Why did they keep looking at her? What did they want? And why did they want it from her? She was the last person in the world anyone should be looking to. She’d spent half an hour deciding between laundry soaps the other day because her usual brand wasn’t there. “Um …”

  “Spit it out, Miriam,” Rainbow snapped.

  Miriam looked at the ground, trying to ignore the bouncing Angelus and the yapping Primrose, and everyone still talking very loudly and voicing lots of different opinions, and tried to imagine what Alice would do. But that was no help. She wasn’t Alice.

  She looked up and said, “Vote. Vote! We go to the farm, hands up. We call the police and stay here, hands down.”

  Rainbow, Rob, Harriet and Jemima put their hands up. So did Gert, Rose, Pearl and Teresa. Carlotta and Rosemary looked at each other, then put their hands up too. After a moment’s consideration, so did Priya. Jasmine looked at Miriam. “I’d like to do both,” she said in a small voice.

  “Excellent idea,” Miriam said, even as Rainbow opened her mouth. “I will text DI Adams so she can’t tell us not to do anything, and we will go to the farm.”

  “Pig—” Jemima started, and Miriam jabbed a finger at her.

  “You be quiet. You’ve no call to be so rude, and I don’t think you’re such a bad person. Stop acting like it.”

  “But—” Rainbow began, and Miriam shook her head.

  “No! Decision made! I’m going to text the DI, and we’re all going to go in your van. And that’s all there is to it.” She folded her arms and glared at everyone, and after a moment Rob put his hand up. “Yes?”

  “I don’t think we’re meant to carry that many people in the van?”

  She just looked at him, and he nodded.

  “Right. Right, I’ll, um, take all the stuff out of the back then.” He turned and scampered away.

  Miriam nodded stiffly, and walked to her car, her face so hot she wasn’t sure if she was about to cry or faint. She sat down in the passenger seat while she tried to figure out what to say to the DI, and after a moment Beaufort said, “Are you alright?”

  Miriam squeaked, and dropped her phone. “Ooh, you do camouflage well, don’t you?” she said, peering into the shadows under the trees.

  “A necessary skill,” Beaufort said. He had his paws tucked under him like a cat. “What’s happening?”

  “Right, well.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “We’re off to the farm.”

  “Why?” Mortimer demanded, peering around a tree trunk. “You were going to just be ready to defend the woods! Peaceful protest, that’s what you said!”

  “Told you,” Amelia said. “We’re being out-dragoned by the Women’s Institute.”

  “What on earth are you doing?” Beaufort asked. “Why?”

  “Well, it looks like Alice has been kidnapped. I wanted to wait for the police, but there was a vote,” Miriam said. “I lost.”

  Beaufort scratched his chin. “I may have to rethink my views on democracy.”

  “This could be terribly dangerous,” Mortimer said. “Anyone could be over there. Anything!”

  “I know,” Miriam said. “I do know. But they’re right, as well. The police could get here too late.”

  “Well,” Beaufort said. “We shall just have to accompany you.”

  For one moment Miriam wanted to just say yes, yes, do, to have the security of the dragons beside her, to know that nothing could really go wrong with them there, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk them as well. “You can’t. It’s too dangerous. I know Barry sees you, but the others don’t. They just think he’s dotty.” She paused. “He is dotty.”

  “Alright,” Beaufort said immediately, and Miriam had a sneaking suspicion it was an Alice sort of alright, where one went on and did exactly what they wished anyway. And she had neither the energy nor the desire to argue with him.

  She rubbed her face with one hand and said, “Have you found anything?”

  “No,” Beaufort said. “We haven’t found the dryad yet, and you were quite right – it’s still too light to fly, so we can’t get to the other farms just yet. We’ll go as soon as we can.”

  “That’s sensible,” Miriam said, as firmly as she could, then sighed. “I suppose I’d best go.”

  “You had,” the High Lord agreed. They looked at the van, where Rose was arguing that she and Angelus together only made one Rob, so of course the dog was coming.

  “Be careful,” Miriam said.

  “You too,” the High Lord said, and she ran to find a seat in the increasingly crowded van, wedging herself in next to Rosemary and trying not to step on Martha, Pearl’s Labrador, who was awake and helping herself to the last of the tofu sausages.

  21

  DI Adams

  The fields to either side of the road were richly green, the stone walls glowing in the low warm light, and DI Adams had to stop herself taking a deep breath as she left the motorway behind. It wasn’t like the air was any different here to what it had been for the last few miles of driving, but something about the way the houses melted away and the hills crept in made it feel as though you
should pause to savour each breath, somehow. She took a takeaway coffee cup from the holder and had a last sip, making a face. It wasn’t even vaguely warm anymore. She went to put it back, and Dandy stuck his nose against her hand.

  “What? You want it?”

  He took the cup delicately, and the whole thing vanished into his mouth. There were a couple of crunches, then he panted coffee-scented breath at her.

  “Wow. I think you have a caffeine problem, dog.”

  His tail thumped against the seat, and he peered out through the windscreen at the fading day.

  “I should have some treats in the glovebox. You hungry?”

  He looked at her, then looked away again, and she shrugged.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Her phone burred through the car’s speakers, Collins’ number flashing up on the dashboard, and she hit answer.

  “Hey, Collins. I shouldn’t be more than half an hour. I’m just–—”

  “Adams, listen. You need to get to Toot Hansell.”

  DI Adams’ belly bottomed out somewhere around her boots, and she nudged the car a little faster. “What’s happened?”

  There was a moment’s hesitation, then Collins said, “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Alice?”

  “Yes. She’s gone. The DC thought she’d gone to bed, but Thompson’s here and he says she’s not there.”

  “Has the DC checked?” Although she supposed the cat would know.

  “Yeah, she checked. No sign.”

  “But where? Where’s she gone? What the hell’s she playing at?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Thompson won’t say.”

  “I don’t know!” The rasping tones of the cat came over the phone suddenly. “Honestly, what am I – her keeper?”

  “Get off!” DI Collins said indistinctly, then more clearly, “I can’t reach Auntie Miriam, either. She’s not answering her mobile or her home phone.”

  “Why does that not surprise me? They’re probably off making an armed assault on the offices of BelleVue as we speak.”