Scandal at Six(5)

“Matthew! You didn’t say they could have it, did you? Mum will want to go through the proper procedure, won’t you, Mum?”

Although Josie was in sole charge of the shop, the actual premises and business had been bought by Lois and Derek, and so in matters like tenancy, they had the final say.

“Afraid so,” Lois said. “We have to know a great deal about any likely tenants. I expect the vicar’s candidates will be the deserving poor.”

“So?” said Josie, coming to her husband’s defence. “So surely we can do our bit to help?”

Derek frowned. “That’s all very well,” he said. “But your mother’s right. We need a nice middle-aged couple, perhaps with a dog that’ll bark in the middle of the night. Maybe a retired caretaker. Somebody like that.”

Lois’s dog, Jeems, divining that they were talking about dogs, decided it was time for her party trick, and she unhooked her red lead and deposited it at Derek’s feet.

“Hello, here’s somebody who wants a walk,” he said, and suggested they all leave the subject of tenants until tomorrow. They could get together after Lois finished her weekly meeting with Andrew and the cleaning girls of New Brooms.

Matthew and Josie declined an invitation to stay for lunch, and Derek decided to take Jemima for a walk down to the playing field. “She loves picking up the ball and scoring a few runs,” he said. “Maybe it’ll have stopped raining by the time we get down there.”

Gran said that it was time she got the joint of lamb in the oven, and Lois retired to her study to check papers for tomorrow’s meeting. She watched Josie and her husband walking down the drive to their car, and smiled. A lovely couple, thank goodness. Then, as she looked, Matthew turned and ran back into the house.

“Lois?” he said. “Didn’t want to tell you in front of Josie, but when I went upstairs to check on the flat, halfway up I trod on something squashy. It was a frog, already dead, but not nice.”

“Ugh! Well, thanks for telling me, and you did the right thing not telling Josie. Poor gel won’t take much more.”



*



Coffee time came, and Gran appeared with a mug and a biscuit for Lois. She sat down on a chair by the window and looked down the street towards the shop.

“Who do you reckon done it, Lois?” she said.

“No idea. It’d have to be someone who was able to get the snake out of the zoo and keep it until it was time to leave it in the stockroom. And it’s not all that easy to find toads and frogs these days. Some nature-reserve nutter? Or a worker at the zoo? They get all kinds of nasties to look after in there. Reptiles, an’ that.”

“And all kinds of nasties working in that place?” said Gran. “I reckon you’re on to something there, Lois. We’ll suggest that at the meeting tomorrow.”

“I think I’ll ask Dot Nimmo to stay after New Brooms is finished. She knows the local underworld and its scams and dodges in Tresham. Perhaps we could recruit her to be on our investigating team?” Lois had worked before with Dot. But in Gran’s opinion, this member of Lois’s team was a pain in the neck, and she showed no great enthusiasm for Lois’s suggestion.

“Maybe later,” she said. “So are you taking up the snake case?”

“Of course,” said Lois. “It’s not just the cruelty to the creatures, but to our Josie as well. And then there’s the security thing. Okay, so Josie left the doors open for any bloke to get in. But then the alarm should have gone off. Maybe she forgot to set it. Trouble is, living in a village where you know everybody, you get careless about security. No wonder poor Josie was so upset! She’s sure it was her fault.”

“You’ve assumed it was a man, I see.” Gram sniffed. “It is just possible it could’ve been a woman with a grudge. Some old jilted girlfriend of Matthew?”

Lois laughed. “I think that’s letting your imagination run away with you, Mother,” she said. “Anyway, we’ll discuss all these things tomorrow. I think I’ll go and meet Derek and Jeems on their way back. Looks like the rain has stopped.”

“And I’d think twice about Dot Nimmo, if I was you,” Gran said. “And tell Derek there’s to be no dropping off at the pub for a pint. This is a prime piece of lamb, and I don’t want it spoilt.”



*



In nearby Tresham, in the bar of the county hotel, two men sat talking, drinks in hand. One was youngish, boyish almost, and with colourful casual clothes, and the other an autocratic-looking man in a well-cut grey suit.

“So do you think it will work, Justin?” the older man said.