Pettison was to be buried in a leafy glade behind Cameroon Hall, where a handful of people would attend a brief ceremony of committal to the grave. Justin, and his mother, Pettison’s sister on a flying visit, stood amongst the leafless trees. He bowed his head and tried to think of good things his uncle had done. He had had his moments of kindness and affection, but these had been sadly outweighed by his unashamed cruelty in handling little animals which were almost certain to die in captivity, away from their natural homes. Now the unfortunate man was decently buried and covered by loamy earth. Dust to dust, thought Justin.
*
After the funeral service, which Lois attended against Derek’s wishes, and, as she said, representing New Brooms, a few people gathered in the zoo café to drink a warming glass of punch.
Lois found herself sitting by Betsy Brierley, who was being obviously shunned by a few stalwarts of Tresham’s blameless citizens who attended more out of curiosity than respect.
“It must have been a shock, Mrs Brierley,” she said. “He was a good friend, I believe?”
“You believe right,” said Betsy, with a sulky look. “And you needn’t bother to pussyfoot around it. I was his mistress, and we had good times together.”
“Of course,” said Lois blandly. “And isn’t that your husband with the undertaker’s men? They do a really good job, don’t they? Dignified, an’ that. I reckon it’s nice to give a good send-off.”
“You’re not saying his death was a good send-off, are you?” said Betsy in a loud voice. Everyone turned to look at her. “The poor old bugger died a horrible death, and the sooner the police find that sod who pushed him into a bees’ nest, the sooner I can sleep at nights.” She stood up, adjusted her tight skirt, and strutted away.
“Straight in it,” Lois muttered to Justin, who came to sit by her and introduce his mother.
“Don’t worry, Mrs Meade,” he said. “She had to explode sooner or later. I’ve been in touch with her, as there’s going to be a court hearing soon, and she and I will be in starring roles. I don’t think she and Ted talked much, so it’s probably done her a bit of good. Don’t take it personally!”
As Lois walked away from the zoo and up to the house to collect her car, she was passed by the hearse returning to base. She remembered reading about black horses with plumes of feathers on their heads, pulling a special carriage for the coffin. And in those days, you could hire mourners! Maybe Pettison would have liked that. Or perhaps he would have preferred to be drawn by a harnessed gorilla, pounding its way round the streets of Tresham.
Driving home, she thought again of Betsy’s outburst. She had probably loved Pettison, in her way. She might decide to give up selling herself, and concentrate on working with Justin in the zoo instead. If they got off with only a fine, of course.
As she walked into her kitchen, Gran stood by the cooker, stirring vigorously. “I expect you’ve had something to eat?” she said crossly.
Lois shook her head. “No, nothing to eat. I’m ravenous!” she added.
“Well you’d better get your coat off and go and ring Inspector Cowgill. He’s been on the phone. I told him where you’d gone, and he said to ring him back as soon as you got in.”
“And I say,” Derek added, “you will have your lunch properly, and after that you can ring him. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” said Gran.
“Mm, thanks, Mum,” said Lois.
*
“And now can we get on with our lives?” Ted Brierley stood with his back to the fire, glaring at his Betsy. Her face was ravaged by constant crying, and he was thoroughly fed up. Okay, so it was natural for her to be sorry, but not this great rush of mourning! She had embarrassed him at the funeral, sniffing and snorting! Half the time at home now, she was looking through albums of photos she had filched from the hall, weeping over photographs of Pettison, from golden-haired youth to cheerful-looking zoo owner, carrying a grinning chimpanzee on his arm.
And the other half of the time, she sat in an armchair, refusing to eat, and rejecting any attempts at conversation or comfort.
“I’ve had quite enough of this,” he continued. “You gave him a service, and he paid for it. I fixed it up, kept him happy and benefited financially. That’s all there was to it, as far as I’m concerned. A business arrangement. But no, you had to fall for him, and I suppose he fell for you, and I was forced to get rid of all your other clients. He wanted sole possession, and I had to agree. You made that quite clear. Now both our jobs are gone, and we can’t live on my undertaking money.”