“Oh, of course, sorry. I’ve a lot on my mind this morning,” the man said.
Janet asked for a slice of shortbread while William asked for a piece of Victoria sponge. They took seats in the corner. A moment later, the door to the kitchen swung open again. Janet recognised Stacey, the girl who usually ran the café, as she walked out from behind the counter.
“I have all of my things,” she said in a low voice to Richard. “You can send my last cheque to my home address.”
“We’ll see about that,” Richard barked at her.
The girl opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. She turned on her heel and rushed out of the building. Janet could see tears welling up in the girl’s eyes as she went.
“I’ll be right back,” Janet told William before she followed the girl. “Stacey,” she called as soon as she was out the door.
The girl was sitting on the bench in front of the building, her face in her hands. Janet sat down beside her. When Stacey looked up, Janet handed her a tissue.
“Is your mum okay?” Janet asked.
“She had a bad fall,” the girl explained. “The doctors don’t think anything is seriously wrong, but she shouldn’t be home alone all day. I was a late surprise. Mum is seventy-two and, well, her health isn’t so good.”
“I’m sorry,” Janet said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t know what,” the girl said sadly. “Not unless you can find me a job that has some flexibility until Mum is well again. I really need to be bringing in some money, even if I’m not working full-time.”
“The café is looking for someone,” Janet told her. “Only part-time for now, but maybe with more hours as the summer gets busier with tourists.”
“Really?” Stacey asked. “I hadn’t heard anything.”
“Ted told me himself,” Janet assured her. “If I were you, I’d go and talk to him now.”
“I will,” the girl said. “It isn’t too far to walk from here.”
“If you want to wait half an hour, I’ll give you a ride over,” Janet offered.
“No, no, that’s okay,” Stacey said. “I don’t mind walking. The fresh air and exercise will be good for me. I don’t want Ted to see that I’ve been crying.”
Feeling as if she’d helped a little bit, Janet went back inside. William was still waiting for their tea to arrive.
“Is Stacey okay?” he asked Janet in a whisper.
“I’ve sent her to Todd and Ted,” Janet told him as quietly as she could. “They’re looking for someone to help out for the summer, at least.”
“And they’re much nicer people than Richard,” William said.
“Okay, tea for two and cakes as well,” Richard said as he crossed the room. It took him three trips to deliver everything, and the tea was already cool by the time Janet took a sip.
“Janet Markham, I don’t know if you’ve ever met Richard Kingston before?” William said after he’d tried his own tea and made a face.
The other man nodded at her. “You have Doveby House, right?”
“That’s right,” Janet agreed. “My sister and I own it.”
“Nice for some,” he said tartly. “I’d love to live in a big house like that.”
“It’s a wonderful home,” Janet said. “But we have to work hard at the business to keep it going.”
“Yeah, there is that,” Richard conceded. “I don’t think I’d like having strangers sleeping under my roof.”
Janet couldn’t help but nod. That was her least favourite part of her new life.
“Is everything okay here?” William asked.
“Here? Things are fine,” Richard said. “The girl that sometimes helps out around here had to go, that’s all. She was increasingly unreliable and I can’t have that, not when I have a business to run.”
“I hope you can find someone to replace her,” William said. “Otherwise you’ll be working awfully hard, won’t you?”
“I’m not afraid of a little hard work,” Richard said dismissively. “But I’m not sure how much more time or effort I’m going to put into this place.”
Janet raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I’ve been thinking about trying something else,” he told her. “Maybe a card and gift shop. Or maybe I should do groceries. With the shop in the village shut now, people would probably pay handsomely for local access to milk and bread and the like.”
“But we’d miss the coffee shop,” William said. “It’s very handy for those of us who work in the shops across the road.”
“I have to do what I can do make my living,” Richard told him. “If I can make more money with less work as a grocer’s, then that’s what I will do.”
William nodded. “It’s a tempting idea,” he said. “Maybe I should get out of the antique business.”
“But then, when Simon Hampton rebuilds the local grocer’s, you’ll have to do something different again,” Janet pointed out.
“So maybe I’ll just stick to what I’m doing,” William said with a laugh.
“You like Doveby Dale?” Richard asked.
“I like Doveby Dale a great deal,” William replied.
“I’d rather live in a big city,” Richard said with a sigh. “I’ll never make enough money to move by selling tea and cakes, though.”
“Maybe you should add more prepared food to your menu,” Janet suggested.
“I can’t compete with the café on the corner,” Richard told her. “Those two are really good at what they do. No, I think I’ll need a total change of direction if I’m going to make any real money.”
The arrival of another pair of customers sent Richard back behind the counter. Janet took a bite of shortbread and then frowned at William.
“It’s a bit stale,” she said. “And the tea was almost cold when it arrived.”
“Stacey spoiled us,” William told her. “She always reheated the shortbread so you couldn’t tell if it was yesterday’s or not. And she always delivered piping hot tea.”
“How is your cake?” Janet asked.
“It’s yesterday’s too,” William replied. “And the custard is straight out of a tin.”
“Richard won’t have to worry about dealing with customers for long if he keeps up like this,” Janet said.
“I wonder if he really will change the place into some sort of gift shop or something,” William said. “I’ll miss being able to pop over for tea, but if the tea is going to be cold anyway, maybe I won’t.”
They finished as much as they wanted of their snack. William insisted on paying for everything. “You were kind enough to accompany me today. It’s the least I can do,” he told Janet.
She only put up a token argument. At her car, she stopped and gave William a hug. “I hope Robert can work out who’s sending the letters quickly,” she told him. “And put a stop to them.”
“I’m torn between hoping it isn’t Alice because I don’t want her to be in any trouble and hoping it is her because otherwise it’s quite worrying.”
“Ring me and keep me up to date,” Janet told him.
“Don’t worry, I will,” William said grimly.
Back at Doveby House, Joan was nearly finished tidying the guest rooms. “Can I help?” Janet asked.
“We just need some fresh flowers for the rooms,” Joan told her.
“I’ll go and cut some early blooms from the garden,” Janet said.
Doveby House had fairly extensive gardens, but neither sister had been blessed with a green thumb. They felt very fortunate that their neighbour across the road was a retired gardener. As the garden for his semi-detached property was tiny, Stuart Long loved spending long hours tending to the grounds at Doveby House. The sisters paid him a small stipend along with all the tea and biscuits he could eat. The arrangement seemed to suit all of them well.
When Janet went outside with her scissors, Stuart was hard at work, digging up weeds from one of the flowerbeds. “Are you planning to slice up my beautiful garden?” he demanded from his
knees.
“I just need a few flowers for each of the guest rooms,” Janet said. “But if you really don’t want me to take any, Joan can get some from the supermarket tomorrow morning.”
“I was only teasing,” Stuart said. He shook his head, his dyed brown hair falling in his eyes as he did so. Brushing it away with a gloved hand he smiled at Janet. “It’s your garden. You may have as many flowers as you’d like.”
“As I said, I don’t need many,” Janet replied. “Are there any that you would suggest over the others?”
“The ones on the other side of the carriage house are actually getting quite large already,” Stuart told her. “I was thinking about cutting some of them back anyway. Let’s start there.”
Half an hour later Janet’s arms were full to nearly overflowing with beautiful flowers. “You can’t even tell that we’ve taken anything,” she marveled as she looked around.
“As I said, this section needed a trim anyway,” Stuart said. “It gets quite a lot of sun. You should be able to cut flowers from here all summer long.”
“That would be good,” Janet said.
In the kitchen, she dug out a pair of vases and filled them with water. The flowers filled both vases easily. “I think I need another vase,” she told Aggie, who was watching her with a confused look on her face. She put the third vase in the centre of the kitchen table before carrying the other two upstairs.
“Those look wonderful,” Joan told her as she put the first one in the smaller of the two guest rooms, where Joan was still polishing surfaces.
“There are tons more where these came from,” Janet told her. “What would we do without Stuart?”
“I hope we never find out,” Joan said fervently.
With the guest rooms ready, the sisters treated themselves to an afternoon curled up in the library with books. The phone rang around four o’clock.
“It’s for you,” Joan told Janet after she’d answered the call. “It’s William.”
“Hello?” Janet said.
“I was going to ring you earlier, but Robert was here, and by the time he left, I actually had a few customers,” William began.
“You’ve had another letter,” Janet guessed.
“Yes,” William sighed. “Much the same as the last. Robert opened it this time, though, and he’s sent it away for fingerprinting without my even touching it.”
“What did he ask the postman?” Janet wondered.
“All sorts of things about the letters,” William told her. “The postman had actually noticed them, because I don’t usually get much post, but he didn’t think anything of it. He just assumed it was something to do with the business.”
“And he didn’t have any idea where they were coming from?”
“No. But he’s going to keep his eyes open at the depot and see if he can spot anything,” William told her.
“What else did Robert say?” Janet asked.
“He just reminded me to make a list of anyone I can think of that might be behind the letters,” William told her. “But I can’t think of anyone at all.”
Janet set the phone down and then frowned at the receiver. The whole situation filled her with unease, but she trusted Robert to work it all out. Joan was in the kitchen, making spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Michael for dinner,” she told Janet. “I won’t be able to see him again until the guests have gone, really.”
Janet nodded. She’d expected as much. When they had guests, the sisters often took turns staying in at night and staying up until their guests were all in the for evening. Even if it was Janet’s turn to stay up, though, Joan didn’t usually go out when there were guests at the house.
“Of course I don’t mind,” Janet assured her.
The trio enjoyed their meal, laughing and talking together like old friends. Once the dishes were in the dishwasher, Janet excused herself and went up to her room to give her sister and Michael some privacy. Aggie followed Janet upstairs.
“We have guests arriving tomorrow,” Janet told the kitten. “You’ll have to be on your best behaviour while they’re here.”
“Yooooww!” Aggie objected.
“Agatha Christie Markham, don’t you take that attitude with me,” Janet said sternly. “Our guests help pay the bills. You had a lovely holiday on the Isle of Man, didn’t you? We could never have afforded that without having guests now and again.”
“Merroow,” Aggie said, ducking her head.
“Yes, I know, it isn’t ideal,” Janet said. “But so far all of the guests have loved you, so I don’t know why you’re complaining. You don’t even have to be nice to them.”
Aggie smiled at her and then jumped onto the bed and settled in on her pillow. Janet went and got ready for bed before joining the kitten in the most comfortable bed Janet had ever owned.
“At least it isn’t a full moon this weekend,” Janet told Aggie as she opened her latest romance novel. Aggie shivered and moved closer to Janet.
Janet’s bedroom was haunted by a ghost who shouted in the night every time there was a full moon. Whenever possible, Janet and Aggie slept in one of the guest rooms on those evenings, but they couldn’t do that when the guest rooms were booked. Janet was convinced that the ghost was that of Alberta Montgomery, but she couldn’t prove it. Reading the woman’s letters and diaries might give her a clue, but Joan was still refusing to let her do that.
Janet read for an hour before deciding to have an early night. “We can both use extra sleep before our guests arrive,” she told Aggie, who was already half-asleep. When she switched off the lights, however, Janet found she couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t a ghost keeping Janet awake, however, it was the specter of Alice Chalmers that kept her brain whirling for most of the night.
Chapter 8
As was typical when guests were due, Joan had a dozen little jobs for Janet the next morning.
“Unless you want to do the shopping?” Joan asked after she’d handed Janet a sheet of paper with all of the chores written on it.
“I’ll do the shopping,” Janet said quickly. A nice long drive to the supermarket, a leisurely shop with lots of extra chocolate, and then a meandering drive home. That sounded a great deal better than tidying the sitting room and emptying the dishwasher.
“I have a list,” Joan said. “Do try to stick to it.”
“I’ll try,” Janet said. She always got everything on the list; she just added a few extra things. Joan shouldn’t really complain.
“And don’t take too long over it, either,” Joan added. “There are lots of other things that need doing here.”
“I can’t control traffic,” Janet pointed out, hoping there would be a lot of it. In the end, she only bought about a dozen things that weren’t on the list, and she didn’t dawdle as much as she might have liked, either. On her way back through Doveby Dale, she noticed the postman doing his rounds of the shops. Impulsively, she pulled into the car park and parked her car.
The postman held the door to William’s shop open for her as she approached. “Good morning,” he said. “I’ve a large parcel for you. Is Joan at home or would you like it now?”
“Joan is home,” Janet said. “We have guests arriving later today.”
“I’ll leave it with her, then,” he said. Janet nodded and then walked into the shop. William and Robert were standing at the desk in the back corner, frowning at another plain white envelope.
“Not another one,” Janet said.
“Yes, another one,” William told her.
Robert was wearing gloves, and Janet found she was holding her breath as he slit the envelope open with a letter opener. He pulled the letter out and unfolded it.
“I’m running out of patience. Leave Doveby Dale now,” he read aloud.
“Maybe I should just go,” William muttered.
“We’ll find out who’s behind this,” Robert told him. “I’ll send this one for fingerprinting immediately.”
<
br /> “You didn’t find any fingerprints on any of the others, except for mine,” William pointed out.
“Whoever it is will make a mistake eventually,” Robert said.
“If he or she doesn’t kill me first,” William replied gloomily.
“I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Robert said soothingly.
“I may just have to kill you,” a voice said from the front of the shop. Everyone spun around.
“How could you send Adam Peabody to Blake?” the angry man in the doorway demanded.
“Ah, Stanley, good morning,” William said. He took a few steps towards the new arrival, with Robert at his elbow. Janet followed at a more leisurely pace. She recognised the man in the doorway. Stanley Moore owned a large warehouse on the outskirts of Derby. It was crammed full of antiques. Janet had visited once with William, and she’d liked the heavyset man who was somewhere in his fifties. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“Haven’t I always done my best by you?” Stanley demanded.
“Of course you have,” William replied. “But Mr. Peabody was looking for such a specific item that I thought it would be best to send him to Blake. I knew for certain that he had exactly what Mr. Peabody wanted.”
“Ha, what he thought he wanted, maybe,” Stanley said. “He dropped over three thousand pounds with Blake on all manner of things that I could have sold him if you’d sent him to me.”
“I am sorry,” William said. “When I spoke to him, he insisted that he wasn’t interested in anything other than an Edwardian washstand. I knew you didn’t have anything in at the moment, and I’d just received Blake’s new catalogue and they had several. If I’d known Mr. Peabody was looking for other items, I would have worked harder to sell him something here.”
Stanley frowned and then nodded. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “But I thought we had an agreement.”
“We do,” William said firmly. “Whenever I don’t have what a customer wants, I try to source it through you or send the customer to you. This was an exceptional case. Going forward, I’ll send whoever it is to you even if I know you don’t have what they want, okay?”
“I don’t know about that,” Stanley said hesitantly. “I mean, I’m a busy man. I don’t want people dropping in the warehouse every day wanting to buy things I don’t have.”
The Kingston Case Page 6