Small Town Shock (Some Very English Murders Book 1) (17 page)

“Ah. Are you Mr Hart?” she said hopefully.

The light was shone into her face again. She managed to get
one eye shut in time. “I’m phoning the police. You’re coming to the cabin to
wait. You can explain to them what you’re doing breaking into my – hey!”

She threw herself sideways. She gambled on the fact that he
wouldn’t expect her to try and break for freedom until he’d stopped speaking.
Well, maybe that would have been the polite thing to do. Penny ducked low, shot
to the side and ran in a zig zag across the road, hoping that the learner driver
wasn’t about to erratically appear and mow her down.

There was a stream of cursing behind her and stamping feet
that didn’t seem to be very fast. She wondered if he was allowed to leave the
scrap yard unattended, like the way Warren seemed tied to his shop. She ignored
her ankle’s throbbing, and put on a burst of speed, reaching her car and
fumbling to get in. She didn’t dare look behind to see if he was still pursuing
her. She slammed into gear and shot away with a painful grating of the engine.
Her rear view mirror was filled with light; in fact, she could see three lights
– the learner driver was back and the other light must have been Thomas’s
flashlight. It looked satisfyingly confusing. She kept on the accelerator until
she was in the flow of traffic in the ever-busy city centre, and finally she
was able to control her breathing.

She was sweaty, she was in pain, and she was tingling with
excitement.

She was
alive
.

* * * *

Penny made herself a cup of tea when she got home, but left
it standing on the table and grabbed a can of cider from the fridge instead. It
seemed more fitting. She went to sit on her sofa, absolutely thrumming with
adrenaline.

I feel part of something again, she thought in wonder. I’m
dynamic. I’m righting wrongs. I wonder what the upper age limit is for joining
the police force?

She was interrupted in her new fantasy of crime-fighter
extraordinaire by the ringing of her mobile phone. It was Cath, and she was
surprised. It was gone nine o’clock at night.

“Hi Cath! How are you?” She knew she sounded over-excited.

“I’m on duty,” Cath said, and her voice was flat and dry.
“This is a work-related call.”

“Er … oh … I suppose I ought to call you Detective Constable
Pritchard, then.”

“Yes, quite. There have been some complaints made about
you.”

“Some?” Oh dear.

“Two. Two complaints in one night. At least you gave the
complainants your name, and even your address. That saves us a little bit of
investigation. I do not think you are in our top ten of cunning criminals yet.”

Penny was irrationally peeved. If she was going to take up
crime – which she wasn’t, but just supposing – she’d be good at it. She would
be in the top ten. She decided not to tell Cath her thoughts. Instead, she
said, “I don’t see what Eleanor has to complain about – it was Eleanor who
complained, wasn’t it? I just went round for a neighbourly chat, and I left
when she asked me to. Actually, I left when she threatened me with weapons, and
I think that’s something your murder investigation needs to take a good look
at!”

“The fact is that our complainant, whose identity I shall
neither confirm nor deny, felt harassed. And then the complainant’s husband had
an encounter with a strange woman later on. The husband called the wife and
they compared notes. They are quite within their rights to now feel they are
the centre of a campaign of harassment, Penny. What on earth were you
thinking?”

“I was thinking about the will,” Penny said. “Who is the
main beneficiary? How can we find out?”

“We?”

“You. The police,” she corrected, hastily. “Seriously.
There is some kind of–”

“Penny!” Cath exploded. “Please. I am
on duty.
I can
do what I can do, here, for you but you must listen. You are going to end up
with an Anti-Social Behaviour Order at this rate. Do you really want an ASBO? I
think they might send an officer round to talk with you tomorrow. Be honest and
most importantly, be really, really sorry. Okay?”

“Okay. I understand.”

There was a pause and a long sigh. Then, in a gentler tone
of voice, Cath added, “Look, Penny. I am sorry about this. Let’s do coffee
soon, okay? We really should.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“No. I consider it damage limitation,” Cath shot back, and
ended the call.

Penny couldn’t help grinning to herself. Cath was curious
about what she had to say, she could tell. She was hampered because she was
calling from the open plan offices.

She still considered the evening a success, ASBO or no
ASBO.

Penny woke up on Saturday morning in an uncommonly good
mood. The sun was shining and it was almost feeling summery. Warm sunshine and
birdsong was an instant anti-depressant. More importantly, she felt she’d got
somewhere significant in the case.

In spite of the potential for the pavements to be busy, she
decided to be bold and walk Kali. She had a pocket full of high-value treats –
the very yummy sort of stuff that Kali didn’t get at any other time. She had
her confidence and a spring in her step as she left the house, head held high.

She still didn’t dare to go to the popular dog walking area
along the Slipe, but she skirted the edge of it as she followed the road south.

She pondered the previous night’s escapades. It was feeling
like a dream already. She was utterly convinced, however, that the murderer had
to be Thomas, and that Eleanor knew something. She might not know the whole
truth, but she was clearly hiding something.

Penny hoped to meet with Cath soon, as a friend rather than
as a police detective. She resolved to call her when she got home. Francine
nagged at her, too, but she’d call her that evening, perhaps. Penny had to find
out about the will, and more about David – she knew his parents had passed on,
but did he have any children? She wished she was connected to the internet
already, although she doubted she could just google up someone’s will. Still,
it was worth a try. She’d googled herself once and discovered some old photos
of herself from various company websites that she had had no idea about. She’d
stopped immediately before she discovered anything worse than enormous hair and
ill-advised blue eyeshadow.

A man in jeans and a plaid shirt said hello to her as he
walked past. Kali strained towards him, her tail and indeed her hips wagging in
greeting. She seemed to think that everyone wanted to be her new best friend.
One quick twitch of the lead attached to the head-collar, and she was back by
Penny’s side, looking up and waiting for a treat for being so good.

Penny didn’t think she recognised the man, but it didn’t
matter. It felt good to be part of a community where people did say hello on a
warm May morning.

Kali began to furtle and sniff under the hedgerows, pushing
her nose further and further into the tangled undergrowth. Penny let her have a
good root around, but suddenly Kali yelped, and went stiff, and tried to back
out, but couldn’t.

“What have you done, you daft dog?” Penny said, kneeling to
see what the problem was.

The head-collar, although an amazing piece of kit, was
designed for improving the dog’s walking, and was not suited to being dragged
through vegetation. The loop on the underside had become enmeshed with some
leggy old thorns and weeds.

“Hang on … keep still,” she urged as she tried to see what
the issue was. Of course Kali had no intention of keeping still and the more
the dog panicked, the sicker Penny felt as she struggled to pull the head-collar
free from the twisting tendrils. She could barely reach the problem, her arms
stretched in amongst the scratching twigs and lower branches. “Please,” she
said, and her desperate voice made Kali pull back in fright, tightening the
head-collar around her muzzle. She was whining and it was a sound that made
Penny ache.

“Right, I’ve got it … hang on…” The only thing she could
see to do was to unclip the head-collar while holding onto Kali’s collar. But
with the twigs in her face, and her hands scrabbling in the weeds, she lost her
grip as soon as the head-collar slipped free of the dog, and Kali shot
backwards, yelping.

Penny tugged hard on the now-unattached and dog-free head-collar,
not caring if it broke as she hurtled out of the hedge and landed on her bottom
on the pavement. Kali had disappeared but she could hear barking up ahead where
a path led off from the road. Feeling ill with anxiety, her vision clouding at
the edges as she didn’t breathe deeply enough, she stumbled to her feet and
lurched towards the path, calling for her dog.

The barking stopped. As she rounded the tree that marked
the start of the path, she had a clear view.

There was Kali, sitting and looking up at a woman in lilac
and hot pink, who was pulling something from her appliqued tote bag. Kali was
wagging her tail. The treacherous animal.

The woman was Mary.

Penny leaped forward, feeling so shaky that her legs gave
out and she sank to her knees as she reached Kali, burying her head in the
dog’s furry shoulders. “Oh my goodness…”

Kali butted upwards with her forehead and then accepted
some kind of goodie from Mary. Penny took a deep breath and looked up.

“Thank you, thank you! I was so sure I was going to come
around that corner and see…”

She couldn’t describe what she feared. Another dog, the
aftermath of a fight … she shuddered. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. What a lovely dog. I recognise her from
your drawings.”

Hang on, Penny thought, you called her a vicious beast
before, waiting for her chance to rip your face off. Then she decided that now
was not the time to challenge Mary on that. She got to her feet, awkwardly, and
untangled the head-collar. It was undamaged and Kali was happy to put it back
on.

“About the other day at the craft group,” Penny said. “I
want to apologise properly for being so insensitive and talking about stuff
that I didn’t have the right to.” She felt a little mealy-mouthed in her
apology because she didn’t totally mean it.

But Mary accepted it, making Penny feel even more of a
sleaze. “It’s fine, my duck. I need to say sorry to you. It’s been so stressful
lately that I over-react to some things. My emotions are all over the place. I
cry at stupid stuff and laugh when I shouldn’t laugh. I don’t know if I’m
coming or going.”

“That’s understandable,” Penny said, feeling growing sympathy
for the woman in spite of her general dislike. “How long had you and David been
together…?”

It was a risky question, perhaps, but Penny hoped it
sounded natural. And Mary answered quite normally. “Oh, as … partners, just a
few months.” She smiled. “Partners! That’s the word nowadays. I prefer lovers. He
was my gentleman-friend. But anyway. I’ve known him forever, of course. Through
Eleanor. I’m sorry, that’s a difficult subject…”

“Of course, of course. If I can help in any way…” Barring
giving you a lift to the craft fair, she thought, and then felt like a horrible
human being. So she said, “Perhaps when I am free I can give you a lift to the
next craft fair…”

Mary’s eyes lit up. “That would be wonderful! I wasn’t able
to get to that one this weekend,” she added meaningfully. “I didn’t book a
table in the end. What with you being busy tomorrow… But the next one would be
fantastic. I live up on Church Street, the cottages there. Number eighteen. I
really would appreciate that.” She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with her
sleeve. “Oh my goodness. Your kindness will set me off again.”

Penny felt better that she had done the right thing at
last, even if it meant Mary was now in tears. She reached out instinctively and
patted Mary on the shoulder, which unleashed a flood of tears.

“I’m sorry, my duck, I’m sorry,” Mary babbled.

“It’s all right! You’ve got every right to cry,” Penny said
firmly. “You let it all out, now. There, there.”

She glanced down to see Kali was pressed against Mary’s leg
and looking up at her in concern. Mary pulled out a tissue and blew her nose.
“I’m just so fragile at the moment,” she said. “With everything.”

“Of course.” She’d lost her partner … of just a few months,
Penny reminded herself. She asked, cautiously, “You’ve lost your gentleman, uh,
friend. Your job and your car, you said at the craft group. It’s a lot for
anyone to deal with. You’re doing marvellously, under the circumstances.”

But there was more. “Oh, and those blasted letters!” Mary
blurted.

“What letters?” Penny felt a tingling in her stomach.

Mary’s body shuddered as she fought to stifle her tears.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I really shouldn’t take any notice of them. People can be so
spiteful. I know I’m not perfect. Who is? But they send them anyway.”

“Mary, let me get this straight. Someone’s sending you
horrible letters?” That was low. That was lower than low. Poor Mary.

“Threatening ones. They tell me to leave town. Or … or …”

“When? How many letters have you had? Have you told the
police?” Penny asked, aghast. She was excited about the new revelation but
deeply concerned for the woman she now saw as vulnerable and alone. She drew
Mary closer and gave her a hug, her earlier distaste for the gossiping woman
forgotten.

Mary shook her head. “No, I haven’t told anyone. I’m just a
silly old biddy, aren’t I? They won’t take any notice, the police. Some people
would say I’m getting what I deserve, no doubt.”

“No, who would say that?”

“There are people in the town…” Mary tailed off.

Penny could understand that a lot of people would gossip
and gloat, even if they stopped short of sending the letters themselves. “How
many letters have you had?” Penny asked again.