Scandal at Six(53)
She was about to leave her office, when the telephone rang announcing Cowgill.
“Lois? Have you heard about Mrs Tollervey-Jones’s burglary? Yes, I was sure she would have told you. Well, as you know, Matthew was there straightaway, and I hope sorted it all out. Now, the last thing you told me was that you were bringing the old lady into your investigations at the zoo, and particularly Robert Pettison. Has she acted on your instructions in any way?”
“Not yet. She’d hardly have had any time for that. But yesterday she did say she was going to see Mrs Brierley, whose family she had known through her husband’s buccaneering activities.”
“Oh my God! Can you stop her, do you think?”
“Not a chance. So you think Betsy was straight on the phone to Pettison?”
“Well, don’t forget Mrs Tollervey-Jones was not exactly a hanging judge, but definitely an unforgiving justice of the peace. She’d be well known to the criminal fraternity of Tresham. I think that burglary may have been more a means of frightening her into silence than a straight steal of a few bits of silver.”
“She’s got some good stuff, Cowgill. Worth quite a bit, I’m sure.”
“Mm, well, I have it here in front of me, and I beg to disagree. Most of it is silver plate, and quite modern. I have no doubt she has good stuff tucked away somewhere, but this is not it.”
“In front of you!? Do you mean you’ve got it back already? That must be a record.”
“Don’t underestimate the long arm of the law, Lois. No, actually, we found it dumped in a rubbish bin outside Waltonby village hall. Can I call and see you later this morning? I have to see Mrs Tollervey-Jones, and then I’ll nip up and have a chat.”
“I suppose so. I don’t know what Derek has planned for today, but unless you hear from me, it’ll be all right.”
“And please keep a sharp eye around when you’re out. I think you may have stumbled on something very lucrative and very nasty. So take care; there’s a love.”
*
Derek, when asked, said he was sure that whatever he had planned for this morning would have to take second place to the visit of Detective Inspector Cowgill.
“So what had you planned? A family trip to London? A ride on the old steam train in Fletching?” asked Lois.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Lois. Of course none of those things. I am going up to the allotment and shall be home in time for lunch. Gran is going into Tresham this afternoon, and I shall be watching football.”
“I see,” said Lois. “So having Cowgill here for ten minutes or so won’t interfere too much with your day?”
Gran looked round from the Rayburn, where she was stirring a saucepan of soup into slow-moving whorls. “Do shut up, you two!” she said. “If you want to argue, go and do it somewhere else. This kitchen is my territory, and I expect a bit of peace.”
“Sorry, Mum,” said Lois. “I’m just nipping down to see Josie. Anything we want from the shop?”
“Onions,” said Gran.
“And the same to you,” said Derek, and all three fell about at the old joke.
*
The shop was busy when Lois arrived, and she hovered round the back of shelves, waiting her turn.
“I saw him myself, coming out of Stone House!” said a woman standing at the counter. “Carrying an old rexine bag, and looking shifty.”
“What were you doing, Myrtle, out in the street so late at night?”
“Walking the dog, like I always do, last thing. He didn’t see me, I’m sure. Jumped into a car and drove off like a roaring banshee.”
Lois walked casually round and approached the woman named Myrtle. “Must have been a bit of a shock, seeing someone suspicious so late at night.”
The woman shook her head. “Not really, Mrs Meade,” she said. “You’d be surprised what I see when I’m out with the dog. Goings-on of all sorts!”
At that moment, Justin Brookes came into the shop. He was wearing his jeans and jersey, and his hair was attractively tousled. He nodded to the customers, picked up a newspaper and began to read, waiting to be served.
“Look,” said Myrtle, “it’s here on the front page of the local. ‘Local JP gets burgled in Long Farnden. Burglar gets off without a chase.’”
“They’ll get him,” said her friend. “They always do, in the end. Silly fool must have left loads of prints on that silver. I heard they recovered it already. My friend in Fletching is caretaker at the village hall, and she found a bagful of stuff. Took it straight to the police. All sorts of silver things. She didn’t touch none of it, of course, so the police shouldn’t have too much trouble identifying the prints.”