“But he’d have smelled a rat surely because Marlene never goes to bingo,” said Lottie.
“There’s a first time for everything, look at Debbie here. Anyway, shall we pop in the pub for a quick drink? My treat since I won twenty pounds.”
Lottie nodded. “Yes, I’d like that, Het, because the house seems awfully quiet now the family have gone home.”
“How about you. Debbie?”
“Yes please. Sounds like a very good idea. I must admit I do like a drink but Gideon hardly ever touches the stuff.”
“You’re in good company then,” laughed Hetty as they crossed the road and headed towards the Crown and Anchor.
Chapter Sixteen
On Wednesday morning, Hetty and Lottie went for another visit to Pentrillick House because the previous evening while discussing events with Debbie they had decided they ought to try and establish the location of the room in which the valuables stolen had been on display. They knew the room was no longer part of the tour but nevertheless thought its whereabouts might help them try and visualise how the robbery had proceeded. What’s more, they were keen to scrutinise the tour guides as both Christopher and the female whose name they couldn’t remember were suspects in their eyes for the robbery in 2013 and the attempted murder of Hazel Mitchell on Easter Monday. For although it was Christopher who had found Hazel slumped in the hallway with gunshot wounds it was still possible that he could have shot her through the window from outside and then returned indoors quickly by a side entrance.
Debbie declined the invitation to go snooping with the sisters on the grounds that because Gideon worked at Pentrillick House part-time she thought it unwise in case someone observed her suspicious behaviour, for she knew he was very happy with his job and the people he worked with and she had no wish to jeopardise his position there.
The tour of the house took the same route as when they had been before and so it was obvious that unless their guide, Christopher, mentioned the theft and pointed out the room in question they would be none the wiser and since they knew that to have the room pointed out wasn’t part of the tour Hetty took it upon herself to ask.
“Excuse me, Christopher,” she said in her sweetest voice, “I heard tell the other day of a robbery here a few years back and that the things stolen were never recovered. Apparently the valuables were in a locked room which was part of the tour. Will we go in there today?”
Christopher actually smiled. “No, and for a very good reason that being as you say the valuables were never recovered and so there is nothing to see but I will point out the room to you when we pass it.”
“Oh, thank you, that’s very kind.”
“Were you working here back then when it happened?” Lottie asked, in an equally sweet voice.
“Yes, and it was a very stressful time. The family were on holiday when the thieves broke in and we felt we’d let them down.”
Several other members of the tour expressed interest after that and although Christopher willingly answered their questions, Hetty and Lottie who listened intently learned nothing they had not already heard before. But at least they established the location of the secure room; it was the last one along the hallway, next to the library.
After the tour they walked down to the lake and while there sitting on a bench they saw a man with a bucket of chopped up vegetables which he fed to the swans and ducks.
“Did you see that?” Lottie asked, as she watched the man walk away from the lake.
“Yes, they must have been hungry the way they gobbled that lot down.”
“No, no, I wasn’t actually thinking along those lines. I was more taken with the bucket, you see, because it suddenly struck me that the bucket would have been the perfect place to hide the gun ready to drop it into the lake.”
Hetty sat forward. “You’re right. Good thinking, Lottie. So I wonder who he is. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen him before but then I was more taken with the swans and ducks than him so didn’t even look at his face.”
“I did and I didn’t recognise him but he did look vaguely familiar.”
“Hmm, we need to find out his identity then.”
Lottie laughed. “Well, we know who to ask.”
“Yes, Tess. We’ll pop into Taffeta’s Tea Shoppe on the way home and see if she’s working today. I’m sure we could force a cup of coffee down and even a chocolate éclair.”
During a brief chat with Tess who waited on their table they learned that the groundsman at Pentrillick House whose job it was to feed the swans and ducks was a man called Ben. And despite the fact Tess said he was gentle, kind, good natured and well thought of, when they got home they added him to their list of suspects.
Over the next few days the weather turned hot and sunny. On Saturday it was glorious and so Hetty and Lottie drove to a garden centre and bought several new plants and then spent an enjoyable afternoon in the garden, planting, weeding and deadheading.
“Shall we plant some of your tomatoes in the flower beds when they’re a bit bigger?” Lottie asked, “They would fill a few gaps nicely.”
“Yes, good idea because there are far too many for the greenhouse.”
“I’ll dig over this area here for them and then we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed and hope we have a dry, sunny summer so they don’t get blight.”
After their chores were done, they sat down on the lawn and soaked up the sun.
Meanwhile, in the garden of Wood Cottage, Lucy Lacey walked amongst the white heather picking fresh, healthy flowers. When her small basket was full, she returned indoors and tipped out the flowers onto the kitchen table. Painstakingly she checked each one for blemishes and trimmed them all to equal lengths; she then tied a piece of cotton to each stem. Once the task was complete she returned them all to the basket and carried them up to the spare bedroom where George was sleeping in a ray of sunlight on a patchwork counterpane made by her mother which covered the spare bed. She reached for a footstool and placed it beneath the beams and from them she took down sprigs already dried and replaced them with the new.
Lucy loved growing a variety of flowers, herbs and vegetables but heather was her passion. Much of her adult life she had spent working as a florist in Plymouth. The shop was owned by an aunt who had offered her a job when she left school knowing that she had a broad knowledge of horticulture and a flair for the wellbeing of flowers. At first she was reluctant to leave her parents but they insisted that she should go and never once had she regretted it.
Sadly the nice weather didn’t last and on Sunday morning the inhabitants of Cornwall woke up to grey skies and frequent showers. Nevertheless, Hetty and Lottie went to church despite the rain for they were keen to see if Gideon was well enough to play the organ as Debbie said he might. When they arrived home Lottie promptly switched on the television to watch the London Marathon while Hetty switched on the kettle.
“Humph, typical, it’s lovely and sunny up there, Het,” Lottie said in a raised voice so that her sister in the kitchen could hear.
“Yes, I heard someone saying after church that this year’s marathon will be the hottest day in its twenty whatever-year history.”
Lottie sat down. “Poor souls, it’s bad enough walking in the heat without having to run in it. Not that we have any heat to walk or run in down here today.”
“Have you spotted Luke yet?” Hetty eagerly asked as she entered the sitting room and handed her sister a mug of coffee.
“No, it’s a bit like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
Hetty sat down. “Any idea if he’s dressed in running stuff or if he’s a fun-runner?”
“He’s a fun-runner,” said Lottie, “because if you remember Daisy told us they’d been through the fancy dress stuff in the charity shop to help him out.”
“Yes that’s right I remember now but I’ve forgotten what he chose in the end?”
Lottie laughed. “He chose to be a seagull.”
“Well, in that case it shouldn’t be d
ifficult to spot him.”
“No, and with the awkwardness of it I should imagine he’ll be quite a way back.”
The sisters sat with their eyes transfixed on the television screen determined to see their erstwhile neighbour who was also a member of the drama group.
“I give up,” said Lottie after twenty minutes, “it’s starting to strain my eyes.” She leaned back in her chair.
“Me too and I’m inclined to think we’re wasting our time. Shall I switch it off?”
“No, leave it on and we’ll just glance at it from time to time.”
Hetty unfolded the crumpled pages of her script and started to read through her lines. Lottie picked up the coffee mugs to return them to the kitchen but before she left the room she glanced at the television set just in case Luke was on the screen. What she saw caused her to gasp, “Oh my goodness, look at the television, Hetty, quick.” Lottie flapped her mugless hand towards the television set, “There’s Brett. Look, look there’s Brett on the right hand side of the screen.”
Hetty dropped down the script, sprang from her chair and knelt on the floor in front of the television set beside Lottie who had also fallen to her knees. She was just in time to see Brett standing amongst the crowd in the Mall with his arm around an attractive brunette. “You’re right, but who is that with him? It’s not Alina.”
They both tried to look closer but were too late, the coverage had moved back to another leg of the race.
“We might see him again,” said Lottie, hopefully.”
The sisters watched until the end of the broadcast but saw no further glimpses of Brett with the brunette or of Luke running.
Chapter Seventeen
It was foggy and drizzly on Tuesday evening but that didn’t deter Hetty and Lottie from walking down to the village to play bingo again for although neither of them mentioned it both were eager to see if Marlene was picked up in a red Ford Fiesta as during the previous week. To their delight she was there again standing outside the post office beneath an umbrella and looking along the road in an easterly direction. Keen to see if the same car appeared, the sisters slowed their pace and even stopped at one point so that Hetty could pretend to tighten her shoe lace even though her shoes were slip-ons.
“It’s coming,” whispered Lottie, as Hetty stood back up, “Quick, let’s hide again.”
As before they hid behind a parked vehicle, this time a car which meant they had to crouch lower. After the red car passed by, they both stood up.
“Damn, we should have looked at the registration number,” tutted Hetty.
“Oaf,” said Lottie.
“I beg your pardon. Who are you calling an oaf?”
Lottie laughed. “The registration number was OAF. Well, part of it was anyway.”
“Oh, I see. Silly me. It’s a local car then.”
When they arrived at the village hall they were pleased to see that Debbie was already there. She waved as they walked in.
“We hoped you’d be here,” whispered Hetty, looking over her shoulder, “We brought our list of suspects to show you on the off-chance.”
“How exciting. Shall we go to the pub again afterwards and look at it then?”
Hetty nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“Lovely, I told Gideon we probably would and he seemed really pleased.”
“You’ve not told him of our sleuthing, have you?” Hetty asked.
Debbie giggled. “No, of course not. Some things are best kept quiet.”
“Did you by any chance watch any of the London Marathon?” Lottie asked, as she unbuttoned her coat.
“A bit,” admitted Debbie, “I was hoping to see Luke but gave up after a while. Did you watch it?”
“Yes, and we didn’t see Luke either but you’ll never guess who we did see.”
Debbie shook her head. “No idea. Who?”
“Brett,” blurted Hetty, “He was amongst the crowd of spectators in the Mall with a striking brunette and had his arm around her.”
“Are you sure? I mean, sure it was him?”
“Definitely,” said Hetty, “we got a real good look at him but sadly the cameramen didn’t give us a second glimpse which is a shame because we really wanted to scrutinise the woman he was with.”
“Not that we would have known her,” reasoned Lottie.
“No, we wouldn’t unless she was famous,” Hetty conceded.
“Well, I suppose these things happen with showbiz type people,” tutted Debbie, dismissively, “and it doesn’t have any bearing on the goings-on down here, does it?”
“No,” admitted Hetty, “I suppose not but it’s interesting nevertheless.”
“And slightly tarnishes his reputation in my eyes,” Lottie added.
The three ladies eagerly left the village hall at exactly the same time as the previous week hoping for a repeat performance of Marlene returning to the village. To their dismay there was no sighting of the red car anywhere between the village hall and the Crown and Anchor even though they walked at a very slow pace.
“How disappointing,” Hetty grumbled, “Still, never mind, we’ll try again next week.”
After they had arrived at the Crown and Anchor and bought their drinks, they saw Tess by the piano along with her husband. When she saw the sisters and Debbie she waved and walked over to speak to them. “Have you learned your lines yet?” she asked Hetty.
“I’m getting there, how about you?”
“Same for me but with so much going on I can’t seem to concentrate for long.”
“That’s understandable,” said Lottie, sympathetically, “and you work as well so you don’t have a great deal of free time.”
Hetty laughed. “Sadly I don’t have that excuse as I have all the time in the world.”
“So is there any more news about the recent crimes?” Lottie asked before Hetty had the chance.
Tess wrinkled her nose. “Not really although I’ve heard on the grapevine that Hazel was seeing a chap who her two children didn’t approve of. Apparently he’s a real charmer and a bit of a playboy.”
“Hazel with a playboy! Surely not.” Lottie was shocked.
“Well, that’s what I’ve heard,” Tess chuckled, “I even know his name.”
“We’re all ears,” Hetty moved closer.
“He’s called Andrew Banks and he lives in Helston somewhere near the boating lake. I don’t know exactly where but it’s quite near to one of her children and so for that reason whenever she goes to see him she never drives in case her son spots her car as it’s quite a conspicuous colour.”
“Ah, so that’s why she was at the bus stop on the night that Gideon was attacked,” tutted Lottie, “she was going to meet this Andrew Banks.”
Tess nodded. “Precisely.”
“Where on earth do you get these facts from?” Hetty was intrigued.
“All sorts of places but in this case from Cynthia who lives two doors away from me. She’s a tour guide up at the house as well as Christopher and she and Hazel are good friends.”
“Hmm, interesting,” Hetty mused, “I think we’ll have to investigate further. Thank you, Tess. What would we do without you?”
“It’s my pleasure. As you know I do like a bit of gossip and I think the people I share it with do to.” She winked mischievously and then returned to her husband.
“Cynthia,” whispered Hetty, “that’s the name we couldn’t remember the other day.” She took several gulps of wine. “We’ll find a table and then I’ll add her to our suspect list before I forget again.”
“So is Cynthia a tour guide at Pentrillick House?” Debbie asked.
“Yes, and she has a very annoying voice,” hissed Hetty.
They found a quiet corner and sat down and Hetty added Cynthia to the list. She then passed the sheet of paper to Debbie for her perusal.
“Well, I’m pleased to see that you didn’t include me in your list.”
Hetty laughed. “Hmm, we slipped up there, Lottie, because usually people
we don’t know very well become prime suspects.”
“Quite right because it could easily be me,” suggested Debbie, her tone of voice earnest, “I mean, I could have been there waiting and attacked Gideon when he came into the vestry. My motive being he was having an affair with Hazel who he met while working at Pentrillick House. That would also give me a motive for shooting Hazel, wouldn’t it?”
Hetty’s jaw dropped. Lottie’s heart rate increased.
Debbie laughed. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just trying to demonstrate that no-one should be ruled out. Not even me.”
“Ah, but I would have ruled you out early,” Hetty grinned with satisfaction, “and for one obvious reason.”
“And what’s that?”
“The fact Gideon would have recognised the ringtone if it were your phone left on the vestry floor.”
“And if it was you that attacked him you would have just hit him without bothering to go through the chest,” Lottie added, “and you certainly wouldn’t have taken the candlesticks from the altar.”
“I might have,” smiled Debbie, mischievously, “if I wanted it to look like attempted robbery, but yes, I agree you’ve come up with some good reasons but you can see the point I was trying to make, can’t you?”
“Yes, we can,” agreed Hetty, “and so I think it’s very likely the person we’re looking for is actually on our list.”
“Or isn’t,” said Lottie, thoughtfully, “because it’s possible he or she could be someone we know, really like and would never consider, hence they’re not on the list.”
Hetty laughed. “In which case everyone in the village is a suspect.”
“On the other hand,” said Debbie, “it could be someone that none of us have ever clapped eyes on before.”
“That’s a dreadful thought,” cried Hetty, “because if he’s someone we don’t know then how on earth are we ever going to find him?”
It was eleven o’clock when they left the Crown and Anchor. The rain had stopped and as they waited by the kerb to cross the road into Long Lane a car drove by.
Tea and Broken Biscuits Page 12