Scandal at Six(101)

Lois sighed. “You really are an old softie,” she said. “But there is something tragic and romantic about all this, isn’t there? Too much misplaced love. I must say, and please don’t use this in evidence against me, that Pettison was an evil old devil.”

“Maybe, but there could have been other ways of putting him out of action, such as a long stretch in prison for breaking the law relating to trafficking in rare species. But now he is dead, and we don’t have to think about that. We have to take care that Betsy Brierley doesn’t do anything stupid.”



*



Later that day, Cowgill sat in his office, facing a resentful Ted Brierley.

“What do you mean, was I out that night driving a hearse? Of course I bloody wasn’t! There’s no call for a hearse at that time of day. Unless it’s for the Hell Fire Club. They have nasty rituals, but our lot won’t have nothing to do with that!”

“Do you have someone to vouch for you being at home all evening, as you say?”

Ted thought quickly. He would have to risk this, and tell Betsy as soon as he got home. “Betsy, of course. She’ll know I was at home with her. I can even tell you what we had for supper.”

“Very well, tell me.” Inspector Cowgill sat back in his chair, and looked interested.

“Steak and kidney pie,” Ted said. “With chips and peas, and ice-cream with fruit cocktail for pudding. Most of it came from the supermarket, but we’re both busy people. Sir.”

“Excellent recall!” Cowgill said. “Do you pride yourself on your good memory?”

Ted visibly relaxed. “Oh yeah, me and Betsy do the crossword every day to keep our brains sharp.”

“So were you able to find some time to help out at the zoo, when Pettison went into hospital?”

“No, they didn’t need me. And, I don’t mind telling you, I am not that keen on zoo animals. There’s always that smell of doings and disinfectant mixed. So no, I kept out of the way and left it to Betsy. She and that Justin Brookes seemed to be coping all right. Is it something to do with the zoo that you got me in here for?”

“Possibly. Or it might be a charge of driving a hearse without due care and attention, and exceeding the speed limit in a built-up area.”

Ted laughed at what he thought was a joke. “I’d not call Long Farnden a very built-up area!” he said.

“I see,” said Cowgill, and made a note. “I suppose you must have attended several funerals there, over the years?”

“Oh yeah. I know the area well. Those little lanes an’ village greens, an’ that. Sometimes difficult to manoeuvre round. You get used to it, though.”

“So I expect you’d be good at driving in the dark around there?”

“Oh yeah,” Ted said proudly. “They always ask me to drive, if there’s tricky jobs to be done.”

Silence. Cowgill said nothing, and the atmosphere was heavy with tension.

“Can I go now, inspector?” Ted said.

“No, not yet, Mr Brierley. Not yet,” he repeated, opening his desk drawer. He carefully placed the small plastic bag on the desk in front of him and slid it towards Ted.



*



“They’ve kept him in, Justin, and it’s all my fault! What am I going to do?” Betsy was gripping her telephone, trying to speak calmly, but failing miserably.

Her voice was hoarse, and Justin did his best to make sense of what she was saying.

“You mean the police have taken Ted in for questioning, and have not released him yet? Do you know what they are asking him?”

There was the sound of sobbing, and Justin was puzzled. “What’s been going on, Betsy?” he said.

There was no reply, and he realised Betsy had cut off the call. He frowned. This was not like her. Perhaps he should drive over and make sure she was okay. If they had taken Ted into the police station, something new must have come up.



*



Betsy sat with the phone in her hand, staring into space. She had done it. She had agonised over what she should do since she had brushed Ted’s overcoat, ready to put it back in the wardrobe, and felt the key in the pocket.

Not that she hadn’t already suspected him of being involved in something fishy. Twice lately, Ted had gone out unexpectedly in the evening, dressed in his black undertaking clothes, and had returned later than usual.

The first time, it was the night before she discovered Pettison had been humiliated in the hospital. A man in black had been spotted running away, the receptionist had said. And the second time was the night of the killer bees.

Again, he had been wearing his black suit and overcoat, and she had noticed him taking the emergency hearse key from its hook in the kitchen. He had said next day he’d been meeting some of the lads for a special get-together in the Royal Oak pub in town. They’d agreed to wear their funeral gear to play a trick on the publican, he’d said. But she had met the wife of one of his undertaker mates in the supermarket next morning, and she had said her man had stayed at home all evening.