by Holly Bell
Grandpa came out and closed the door behind him.
‘Hello, bian, come for a visit?’
‘Yes. Grandpa,’ she said coming straight to the point. ’You’re someone I can ask to help me, aren’t you?’
‘I am, love.’
‘Are you a resource, then?’
Grandpa laughed and put his arm around her.
‘There’s no arguing with that, bian. What do you want me to do?’
‘You’re tall. I want you to get my plane down for me, please, Grandpa.’
‘Come on then.’
***
‘Use your resources,’ Amanda told herself, as she drove towards Orchard Row. ‘Yes, sometimes a resource is a person, Tempest.’
She checked her watch.
‘It’s too late to call now. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow.’
They reached home, and Amanda plonked herself down on the sofa. Tempest jumped onto her lap and began kneading her jeans. She addressed him with conviction,
‘Granny and Grandpa are right. I need to calm down, curb my impatience and take this one step at a time, however challenging that might be!’
Tempest judged that Amanda’s legs were sufficiently prepared. Putting his rear end in place, walked around it until he was a neat ball of body and tail, with paws tucked away.
‘I do need to get in there. But besides that, if I’m going to separate what happened back during the war from what happened in the lab, then I need information about what went on around here before the bombs fell.’
Amanda stroked her familiar as she mused, ‘There would have been rumours … stories the next generations heard from their parents and grandparents. And I need someone who’s good at intelligence gathering. Yes, he’s the obvious choice.’
Tempest purred uncommunicatively.
‘How to say it? How to ask? What kind of argument would appeal to a policeman?’ Amanda thought back to her interview with Detective Constable Nikolaides. ‘What was it she kept talking about? … Procedure ... yes … procedure.’
***
‘Mike?’ Trelawney spoke into his phone.
‘Hello, Thomas, all well?’
‘I just had a call from Amanda Cadabra.’
‘Ah yes?’ said Hogarth, with interest.
‘She, er, says that she needs to consult me.’
‘About the death at the Centre?’ queried Hogarth.
‘Yes,’ confirmed Trelawney. ‘Miss Cadabra claims she needs me to explain the finer points of police procedure. She’s confused and troubled, apparently.’
‘Really? And you said …?’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’
Hogarth asked, ‘When are you going up?’
‘I’ve managed to arrange tomorrow.’
‘You sound sceptical about her request, my lad,’ Hogarth observed.
‘I am. I think she told the truth, and nothing but the truth, but not the whole truth,’ said Trelawney shrewdly. ‘For one thing, I don’t think Miss Cadabra is the, er, “confused and troubled” type. Those are more conditions she induces in others, I’d say,’ he concluded drily.
‘I trust your judgement, Thomas,’ said Hogarth supportively. ‘Meeting in the lovely old Sinner’s Rue?’
‘No … the …The Big Tease.’ He knew Hogarth was grinning.
‘My lad, you might enjoy this more than you expect,’ said his mentor, suggestively.
Trelawney had seen that coming and decided to ignore it.
‘I only meant,’ continued Hogarth innocently, ‘that, if I’m not mistaken, she also wants a tutorial in professional intelligence gathering.’
‘Perhaps. At any rate, I think this bears investigation,’ said Thomas.
‘And it may be a chance to reinforce the bridge between you,’ Hogarth added.
Trelawney agreed. ‘Yes, kill two birds with one stone.’
‘One other thing. Could you ask her a question for me?’ requested Hogarth.
‘Of course.’
‘Ask her if she ever feels like she’s under surveillance. And find out if there have been any strangers or newcomers in the village.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘I have a feeling that our Amanda has attracted attention outside Sunken Madley. Just a feeling. Probably nothing. Ask her though, will you? Just in passing.’
‘Certainly.’
‘Keep me posted.’
‘Will do.’
Chapter 30
The Big Tease
The Big Tease, the tea and coffee shop in Sunken Madley, was owned and run by Jules and Alexander, Sandy to his friends. They worked long hours, opening at 7 o’clock in the morning to serve breakfast to the commuters, and closing twelve hours later, when the takeaways and the two pubs took over to provide dinner for the hungry residents and their visitors.
They closed for a half day on Thursdays, and on Sundays for the cricket, at the insistence of the locals. Sandy was the team’s ace-in-the-hole seam bowler. Many an overconfident opposing team batsman had fallen prey to the wicked curve of Sandy’s bouncing bowl, as rivals from the neighbouring village of Romping-in-the-Heye knew all too well.
Of indeterminate ages of somewhere between 40 and 50, Sandy had done well as something in the City, or possibly in construction, and Jules had distinguished himself in the hair salons of London. Having been friends since Sunken Madley School-days, they had sequestered to their home village, to take over the decaying tea shop from Miss Hempling, when the demands of its upkeep were becoming too much for her. In her own words:
‘I don’t understand about all this going to the net market and social stages.’
They paid her a generous amount that had allowed her to move into the Pipkin Acres Residential Home, where her great friends were already being comfortably cared for, and ‘the boys’, as she affectionately referred to them, took over.
Every sausage roll, pasty, scone, angel cake, flan and pastry was made by the owners. With their West End and City contacts sampling and spreading the word, what had formerly been known as ‘Ye Olde Tea Shoppe’, was beginning to attract passers-by, as well as the denizens of the surrounding countryside. Some came from the towns to the south, Barnet and Southgate, and even Hatfield to the north in Hertfordshire. The village had a long way to go before it would become A Destination, but it was a start.
Amanda popped in there regularly for her favourite beverage: hot chocolate. Knowing about her asthma and her consequent avoidance of dairy, they always had cartons of almond and coconut milk for her, and coconut cream to whip her drink into a fondant of foamy deliciousness sprinkled with hazelnuts and drizzled with homemade chocolate sauce. No powder for Miss Ammy. It might start her coughing.
The Big Tease had a cat-and-dog-friendly corner. Alexander and Julian kept a store of tins of tuna and salmon, and referred to Tempest as ‘his lordship’, which he refused to regard as in any way teasing or ironic.
Amanda had never been the sociable type or had the desire to seek out others for information. She spent most of her time trying to avoid being a topic of it. Consequently, she would never have thought of this particular venue as a hotspot for intel, if it wasn’t for something Erik her solicitor had said.
Erik had been the Cadabra’s solicitor for many years, and, even though he numbered several millionaires and billionaires amongst his clients, was never too busy to prepare to ride into battle on her behalf if necessary. He was a friendly, likeable, jovial man, who off-duty dressed in youthful casuals and was popular in the local hostelry. Suited and booted, he was justly feared by his legal opponents, and Amanda considered that there was no one better to entrust with the interests of her affairs.
‘I just wanted to have these on file. In the event that anything untoward should befall me,’ said Amanda, handing some documents across his desk.
Erik took off his glasses and polished them, while he regarded her with apparently mild, passing interest.
&nbs
p; ‘While I was working at the Manor,’ Amanda explained, ‘I encountered some uninvited guests. I encouraged them to make restoration for the hospitality of which they had availed themselves. The documents there are … an incentive for them to keep their word and discourage them from lodging any ... objections on my person,’ she finished diplomatically.
Erik smiled knowingly, ‘I understand perfectly.’
‘Yes, I rather thought you might,’ she replied, twinkling.
‘Does your young man know about this?’ asked Eric.
‘What young man?’
‘Your tame detective.’
‘He’s not my young man. How did you —?’
‘My dear, you can’t have dinner with a member of a territorial police force of England and Wales, in one of the only two pubs in Sunken Madley, and expect it not to spread like wildfire throughout the village by 9 o’clock the following morning.’
‘It was business,’ Amanda explained. ‘About the family accident.’
‘Yes, I expect so,’ agreed Erik. ‘But I gather he was under 60 years of age and of personable aspect.’
‘Considerably under 60 years of age!’ Amanda answered hotly, for no reason that she cared to explore.
‘The community,’ commented her solicitor, ‘is divided as to whether they prefer him or your other young man.’
‘Other ...?’
‘Oh come now, Amanda, you were seen in conversation with him at the playing fields on his first Sunday here, and from all accounts, he seemed rather taken with you.’
‘Good grief!’ exclaimed Amanda. ‘Is your office Grapevine Central?’
‘No, no, dear, that’s The Big Tease. I happily yield second place to them. In fact …,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘I don’t have another client for half an hour. Have they made a fresh batch of Bakewell tarts this morning?’
‘How should I know?’ she asked, suspiciously.
Erik put on his glasses, looked at her over the top of them, and uttered in judiciary tones, ‘You were seen entering their establishment on your way here, were you not, Miss Cadabra?’
She laughed. ‘How could you possibly know that, Erik!?
‘My thoughtful receptionist had just brought me coffee from there before you arrived,’ he replied, with amused aplomb.
Amanda giggled helplessly. ‘All right. You win. It’s a fair cop, guvn’r. I’ll come clean. Guilty as charged. Yes, they have made a new batch of Bakewells. Well, I’ll be off now. I have polish to apply, and you have to get your tarts before your next appointment. Thank you for seeing me, Erik.’
‘Always a pleasure,’ he replied, graciously. ‘Take care now. And you know where to find me if you need me.’
‘Yes,’ Amanda answered, ‘I’ll just ask a villager!’
And so, that day, she knew exactly where to meet Detective Inspector Trelawney.
Chapter 31
Preparing
Amanda clocked off late-morning. She needed time to prepare, not just to shower and dress for the part, but to psyche herself up.
She and the inspector would be under observation, and she mustn’t look like she was on a date, or that she was trying to employ her feminine wiles. On the other hand, she didn’t want it to look too coldly business-like.
‘Not a thigh-length skirt,’ said Amanda to Tempest, as she looked through her wardrobe. ‘Knee length … but flippy …. How about … this?’
She presented him with a black skater skirt. He got up and turned his back.
‘No? All right, I know you don’t want to be involved, but this is important!’ Amanda hung it back in the cupboard saying, ‘Too sombre … OK ... erm … pale orange … not too light … with a dark orange top, tee-shirt …. And a jacket?’
‘Rrrowlll.’
‘You’re right: too formal ... erm … cardigan! Orange.’
‘Grrlllll.’
‘Well, I like orange.’ She donned the ensemble and slipped her feet into burnt umber ballet pumps.
Tempest gave a cursory glance over his shoulder.
‘Brrrrbrrrll.’
’I do not look like a pumpkin! I think it’s fine. I feel confident, and that’s what counts.’
Granny appeared, sitting up straight on the edge of the bed, with her hands folded in her lap.
‘You’re wearing that, are you, dear?’
‘Please, Granny, not you too.’
‘No, I think it will help break the ice.’
Amanda looked at her suspiciously.
‘It’s slightly formal with a hint of casual about it,’ said Granny. ‘Yes, dear, it will work very well.’
Amanda, on a new wave of sartorial enthusiasm, looked up at the top shelf of the wardrobe.
‘Cumdez,’ she said to her straw hat. However, as it floated down, Granny intervened.
‘No, dear, too much.’
‘Too much?’
Granny nodded.
‘Aereval,’ uttered her granddaughter resignedly, sending the chapeau back into its place.
Amanda went over to her discarded overalls, withdrew her IKEA pencil wand and put it in her skirt. The pocket was rather shallow. She pushed it in as deep as it would go.
‘Thank you, Granny. Any other suggestions?’
‘Yes, recommend the Earl Grey tea there. Tell him it’s very good, and then order a pot.’
‘Why a pot?’
‘So you can share it. It will create a bond,’ Granny explained.
‘It’s just a drink, not a contract,’ replied Amanda flatly.
‘And remember how he likes his tea.’
‘Why?’
‘If you expect to get round a man you should at least know how he likes his tea, dear.’
‘Get round …! Granny! What about female emancipation and all that?’
‘Do you want to persuade him to help you or not?’
‘I want to persuade him in the cause of justice, not seduce him with a hot beverage and a sugar lump!’
‘Very good, dear, that’s how he likes his tea. Milk, one sugar,’ responded Granny with aplomb. Amanda fairly spluttered. Senara continued, ‘Order something to eat. Have the same savoury as he has, and then something for pudding that’s too much for one so you can share it.’
‘Granny!’
‘You need to make him comfortable with you, Amanda.’
‘Well, how can I do that when I’m uncomfortable myself?’
‘You’ll be fine, dear. You’ll get your answers in the end, one way or another.’
‘Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, Granny. Now. I want to get there before he does.’
‘No,’ said Granny decidedly.
‘What? Why “no”?’ asked Amanda in bewilderment.
‘He likes getting himself settled and in position before you arrive. Haven’t you noticed?’
‘Erm.’ Amanda gave it some thought. ‘I suppose … yes.’
‘He’s a policeman, remember. And it will help if you let him feel that he has the advantage.’
‘Well, he does, Granny,’ said Amanda prosaically. ‘He has the power to do something I need him to do. I can’t see why he wouldn’t so I don’t see why I have to resort to … ploys and stratagems!’
‘As you wish. Ready, dear?’
‘Yes,’ said Amanda, with a final look in the mirror, pulling her waist-length cardigan down a little.
‘Off you go then,’ said Granny. ‘Is The Animal accompanying you?’ Two pointed grey ears twitched.
‘Tempest?’ asked Amanda, ‘You coming?’
Her familiar looked around wearily.
‘The Big Teeeeease?’
That was different. It held out the promise of delicacies. Tempest stood up, stretching his legs mightily. Some things were worth getting out of bed for.
Grandpa appeared at her side as she neared the end of Orchard Row, not far from The Big Tease.
‘The target is in position,’ said Perran jaunti
ly.
Amanda tutted, suppressing a smile. ‘That’s not funny, Grandpa.’
‘You’re on, bian.’
Chapter 32
At the Hub
As Amanda approached, it was clear that the first wave of the traditional lunchtime queue had abated. Amanda made her entrance, and saw Trelawney seated in a corner at the left-hand end of the beech block counter, at one of the round pine tables. He rose as she approached. She had to give him that; he did have nice manners.
‘Hello, Miss Cadabra. You’re looking very … seasonal.’
‘Hello, Inspector. Er ... thank you,’ she uncertainly.
‘Although it isn’t quite Halloween,’ he acknowledged. ‘Two more weeks to go.’
‘Oh yes, … um ... I like orange.’
‘And it suits you, if I may say so.’
Amanda was relieved. ‘Thank you.’ She sat down. ‘And thank you very much indeed for coming all this way.’
‘Not at all, I’m hoping to make a long weekend of it at my mother’s.’
‘That’s nice. I’m sure you’ve earned a break. Have you ordered?’ she asked him.
‘I thought I’d wait for you.’
‘How kind. I can recommend the Earl Grey tea here. It’s particularly good.’
‘Excellent. I’m very fond of Earl Grey,’ Trelawney replied.
‘I’ll get a pot then, shall I?’ What’s going on? Amanda asked herself. Has Granny set me to ‘autopilot’?
‘Certainly, thank you.’
Amanda went to the counter.
‘Well, hello stranger!’ exclaimed Jules. ‘Haven’t seen you for a coupla days. Where you bin hidin’ yourself? I was just saying to Alexander — Alexander, wasn’t I just saying? Where’s our Miss Cadabra, I was sayin’.’
‘He was,’ confirmed Alexander, ‘that’s just what he was sayin’, and here you are large as life and looking lovely! Lovely! Now, what can we get for you, lovie?’