“I think that’d be a bit hasty,” Derek said. “It may be nothing but gossip. Cowgill has to listen to everything, but we have no reason to suspect Brookes of anything, do we? Josie seems to have quite taken to him. Makes her feel safer when the shop’s empty, she says. No, I think we should hold hard for a bit. See what happens. And Mrs T-J?”
“She wanted to fill me in with how her talk with Betsy Brierley had gone. She picked up some useful stuff about Pettison. About his trade in rare animals, an’ that.”
“And is it time for tea? I’m ready for a cup, and Gran’s come home with cream cakes for all,” said Derek, contenting himself that Lois had at least shared with him some of what she had been discussing.
Thirty-two
Josie was up early in the shop sorting the Sunday papers. Two handy schoolboys delivered them, one on his bicycle to outlying farms, and the other walking through the village at a leisurely pace. As she saw them off on their separate ways, she was startled to hear a car engine close behind. It was the Fiat, and as it came out from behind the shop, the window was wound down, and Justin Brookes leaned over to speak to her.
“Morning, Josie,” he said. “I’m off to church. I don’t suppose you’ll accompany me?”
Church was the last place she would have expected him to go, and she shook her head politely, as he had expected. “Sorry, no can do. I have to shut up shop and do some urgent admin this morning. Unfortunately, it won’t wait for me!”
He nodded and smiled, wondering what he would have done if she had said yes. He closed the window and drove off with the Ferrari-sounding roar. She watched it go, and laughed. They were jolly little cars. There were quite a few of them now, and often one would pull up outside the shop. Lovely colours, too, and a silvery one appealed to her. Perhaps, when she’d done the books, there would be enough on the right side of the accounts to enable her to buy one. And pigs might fly, she said to herself.
“Church?” said Matthew, when she arrived home for a late breakfast. “That man-about-town going to church?”
“He may be praying for his sick father. The old boy is expected to die anytime now. You can never tell with people, anyway, Matthew. Even you darken the doors of the church at Christmastime!”
*
Justin pulled up outside the lych-gate and waited. Several cars parked behind him, and the occupants disappeared up the path. Then the one he was waiting for drew up in front of him on a small hillock where the footpath curved round the corner. Its engine was switched off, and then the door opened. A tall girl with a face like a Pre-Raphaelite painting came towards him, swinging a large white carrier bag, a chic dress-designer’s name emblazoned on the side.
“Hi, Justin. How’s business?”
“It’s not likely to improve, sweetie, if you swing the poor things to and fro like that! Enough to make them seasick! You’d better get in, and let me make sure they’re still alive. This is a new supplier, and Pettison is very anxious that I should check.”
The girl, an old friend of Justin’s and recruited by him into the chain of handlers designed to mislead any curious investigators, now explained that she was about to be married, and would not be operating for Pettison anymore. “But I’m sworn to secrecy about the whole thing, and I shall keep my word,” she said.
Justin frowned. He quite fancied her, and would be sorry not to see her anymore. At the same time, he envied her. How good it would be not to be any longer under Pettison’s control. He looked into the carrier and saw a metal box, like a miniature cage, with airholes and a glass front. Inside, two tiny shrew-like creatures stared at him. They were something out of a Disney film, and belonged somewhere in a forest under dark branches and leaves, where they knew their predators and how to avoid them.
“They’re toys!” he said loudly, firmly putting such thoughts to one side. “We’ve been had!”
Then one of them flicked its tail and crept into the dark corner, quickly followed by the second one.
“Satisfied?” said the girl, as Justin jumped back into his seat. “They’re dear little things. You can take them out if you like. They’re quite tame. I had fun with them last night. Mind you, I think they are delicate, so take care of them. When are you handing them over to Pettison?”
“Tomorrow. I’m living in a flat now, over Farnden village shop, and there’s a place I can keep them hidden.”
“Right-o. Now, are we going to church? I quite fancy Holy Communion . Makes me feel good again.”
“Not me,” said Justin. “I am beyond redemption. Thanks anyway. See you soon.”