Scandal at Six (Lois Meade Mystery) (21 page)

Forty

T
he ambulance had arrived in the early afternoon to collect
P
ettison, and
J
ustin waved him off with mixed feelings.
A
part of him thought it was actually very loyal of his uncle to risk pain and discomfort to come to say farewell to an old friend.
A
t the same time, he was haunted by suspicions that
R
obert had turned up to make sure no incriminating evidence was left behind.
U
ncle and his mother had been in close conversation, and had changed the subject as soon as he came into the room.

It had all been so stupid, Justin thought regretfully. Pettison had been ever present in his life, calling in to see his father frequently. There had been a kind of family conspiracy to keep quiet about the endangered animal trade, and for years before he went away to school he had believed that he and his father were actively helping Uncle Robert to do something worthwhile with his breeding programmes. He supposed his parents had assumed that the truth, that his father was colluding with Pettison’s illegal trade in rare species, had dawned on him gradually, and they never mentioned it. And he never mentioned it! Good God, how ridiculous! And now, he thought, Mum will continue not to mention it, and so shall I. And if my dream of establishing the zoo comes true, post-Pettison, as legal, with no sidelines, it will be the best in the land.

“All ready for the off, Mum,” he said, entering the kitchen for a last snack before he set off in the Fiat. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right? I could stay another day or so.”

“No need, dear. I’m going to Vera’s first thing tomorrow. I’ll ring you to make sure you get back safely.”

“Fine. Now, is there anything else?”

“No, unless you’ve got any animals out there in the barn? Don’t forget them; otherwise, they’ll starve!”

Wow! What an opening! “Nothing there now, Mum,” he said. “I took the last lot away. What did you think of them? Did they appeal to you as pets? We’ve had lots of them over the years, haven’t we?”

And then Mum didn’t answer, and he had said nothing more, recalled Justin, as he sped through the fens. At last, trees and hedges began to appear and he was ashamed to feel a sense of relief at being away from it all. All the questions he could have asked about the early times of his father and Pettison, all had gone unsaid.

But he could not leave it there. Things had changed, and he intended as a priority to thrash out the exact nature of the link with Pettison. He was sure his father would never have agreed willingly to anything illegal. There must have been some pressure involved. From the beginning. And from his own point of view, he wanted no “from generation unto generation” rubbish from Uncle Robert! Above all, when, as was likely, the trade was uncovered by the police, he wished to make sure his father’s name was cleared.

When he reached Farnden, it was six o’clock and dark. The bright overhead light outside the shop lit up his entry to the back of the building, and he coasted in, shutting off his headlights so as not to announce his arrival. He had no appetite for conventional sympathies, and hoped he could creep in and up to the flat without anyone knowing. He saw a light on in the stockroom, and cursed. Josie must be sorting things out in there. But she did not appear, and he shut and locked the flat door with relief. Then he thought of the animals. Oh well, they’d probably been fed this evening. “I’ll look at them tomorrow,” he muttered, and collapsed on the sofa, where he fell immediately into a dreamless sleep.

*

N
ext morning,
J
ustin awoke with a painful neck where he had been lying cramped up on the sofa, still in his clothes. He looked at his watch. It was half past nine, and he would have barely enough time to shower, and put on his good suit, and speed into Tresham in time for a meeting with the solicitor who was helping with his father’s affairs.

He was on the road, clean and fresh, when he remembered the shrews. “Damn!” he said aloud, and slowed down. Should he go back and feed them? But no, Josie would have realised what had happened, and looked after them. He quickened up, and arrived outside the solicitors’ offices on the dot of half past ten.

The loose ends of his father’s financial affairs were soon tied up, and when he went out to the Fiat, he noticed the petrol gauge was low, but not alarmingly so, and he decided to risk it.

He was beginning to feel anxious now, with a vague suspicion that something was wrong. He had waved to Josie as he left Farnden earlier, and she had not smiled in reply. Pettison had said he was to hang on to the little animals or, in an emergency, get them to Betsy Brierley, who would know what to do with them.

He put his foot on the accelerator and pushed the little car to its top speed. The straight stretch of road whizzed by, and as he slowed down to drive through Fletching, he heard the unmistakable sound of a police siren. Damn and blast!

“So sorry, officer,” he said, as the policeman came up to his open window. “Not concentrating, I’m afraid.”

“Very dangerous, sir, particularly at that speed. I’m afraid it’ll be a ticket this time. You know what to do, I expect.”

“Thank you,” replied Justin, and managed to refrain from committing himself further.

When he rushed into the shop, he found Josie sitting on her high stool, reading a newspaper.

“Hi, Justin,” she said. “Good journey?”

“So-so,” he said. “Animals okay?”

Josie took a deep breath. “I am afraid they’re not there. Somebody either collected them or stole them, and the odd thing is, the door was not broken into. So sorry! I didn’t want to have bad news for you when you must be feeling sad. Did the funeral go smoothly?”

Justin did not answer. Why had Pettison insisted on him giving Betsy a copy of the shed key? In case of emergencies, he had said. Well, now they had an emergency, and he knew who to ring immediately.

“Excuse me, Josie,” he said. “I must make a quick call.”

At this point, Mrs T-J came through the door. “Good morning! Lovely morning, though cold.”

“Hello, Mrs T-J,” said Josie. “Afraid it’s not such a lovely morning here. I’ve just had to confess to Justin that I’ve lost his elephant shrews.”

“My dear, how awful! Justin, your new tenant? Well, I wonder what he was doing with them.”

“They were special,” replied Josie. “Elephant shrews are special apparently. Golden rumped ones are very rare, and an endangered species. Not indigenous to this country. Bred in captivity, this lot, I think Justin said.”

“Dear little things, actually, with their goldy-coloured bottoms,” said Mrs T-J. “Used to see lots of them on travels with my husband. Forests being cut down or burned low, you know. Natural habitat for lots of rare animals being lost. Such a shame.”

*

“
B
etsy?
J
ustin
B
rookes here.
W
hat have you done with them?”

“Done with what?”

“You know perfectly well. Those shrews. I had to go to my father’s funeral, and found them gone when I returned. I gave you the copy of the shed key, so don’t waste my time. Where are they? I need to hand them over today.”

“Sorry about your dad. Don’t bother about the animals.” Betsy put her hand over the receiver and hissed at Ted, “What did you say you did with them?”

“They were stone-cold dead, Betsy dear, and I wrapped them tenderly in newspaper and put them in the bin. You can tell him that with my compliments.”

Betsy scowled at him, and uncovered the receiver. “I’ll hand them over, Justin,” she said. “Got to go down to the zoo anyway, this afternoon. So I can go up to the house and meet the customer.”

“And take your share of the loot? Always handed over in cash, isn’t it? No flies on you, Betsy. Well, it’ll be between you and Uncle Robert when you next see him. But don’t upset him too much. He’s still a bit frail. And watch out for yourself. Some of uncle’s customers can be very unforgiving.”

“Don’t you worry, dear. And thanks for the advice. Anytime you want a favour, just you let me know.”

What me? Oh Lord, save me from the weaker sex, thought Justin. He made himself a cup of coffee and sat down on his sofa to think.

*

“
W
ho was that, dear?” said
T
ed suspiciously.

“Justin, wanting his animals. But I fixed him. I said I’d take them to the rendezvous myself. Being helpful, see. The poor soul just back from his father’s funeral. Now, we’ll have a quick lunch and then I have to go into town again. Forgot to get some moisturising cream from Boots. I used the last this morning. I’ll get some crumpets for tea. I don’t know,” she added. “My head will never save my legs!”

Driving back into town, Betsy planned what she would do. It was extremely unlikely that the pet shop would have elephant shrews. She hoped there would be something like them, about the same size, that could be wrapped up and passed off as the real thing, at least until she had the cash safely in her pocket. Of course, she should never have left them in the cold washhouse. Poor little things. But it was really Pettison’s fault for importing little animals into the climate of this country.

It’ll be risky, but as long as the man who comes to collect doesn’t ask for a close look, all should be well. For the moment, anyway.

*

“
S
orry, love, we’d never ever see any of those,” said the pet shop assistant. “Probably a protected species, I’m afraid. Can I suggest an alternative? I’ve got a pair of lovely piebald mice. Very pretty, and tame. Bred in captivity, and will eat from your hand.”

Ugh! thought Betsy, but she said they would be fine, and please could she buy a carrying case as well. “And wrap them up well,” she said. “It’s really bitter out there today.”

She was nervous as she placed them in the boot of her car. Suppose they escaped and ran around her legs when she was driving! Telling herself not to be silly, she drove out of town and approached the zoo. Margie Turner saw her coming and waved her through the gates. She drove swiftly up to the house, and in the yard behind, she saw a black car, not one that she recognised, with a figure sitting in it.

Parking next to it, she waved at the man, and got out. He joined her, his hat pulled well down over his face.

“How d’you do,” said Betsy. “Very cold today, isn’t it?”

“We might have some snow,” replied the man.

“Well, we got that out of the way, didn’t we. Very James Bond, don’t you think? Anyway, here’s the consignment. Hand over the cash, and then we can be away from here. You never know when you might bump into a policeman, since that nasty accident in the zoo.”

“I should take a look in the bag first,” he said.

“Not if you want the creatures alive when you hand them over,” said Betsy. “They’re well wrapped, and this cold wind could see the end of them.”

“Well, if you say so,” said the man, handing over a fat package. “Here’s the cash. They’d better be all right, else you’ll be hearing from us. When’s Pettison coming back? The boss sent his best wishes for a speedy recovery.”

“I’ll tell him,” said Betsy, getting into her car. “Bye. Drive carefully.”

*

W
hen she arrived home,
T
ed said there had been a message for her from the hospital. He sounded curious when he told her, and said quickly that she was to go in to see the boss as soon as possible.

“Huh, well, he can wait,” Betsy said, flopping down into a chair. “I’m staying here for the rest of the day. Whatever it is, it’ll keep until tomorrow. And I’m sorry, Ted, I forgot to get the crumpets.”

“Typical,” Ted replied sourly. “I suppose it’ll have to be toast and honey again.”

“Very good for you, honey,” said Betsy.

“Maybe we should keep bees, then,” Ted said. “My dad used to keep a hive, but Mum was dead scared and so he got rid of them.”

Forty-
o
ne

“H
ave you discovered where the shrews went?” said
J
osie to
J
ustin as he came into the shop.

“Oh yes, I’m sorry about that. I gave my key to a friend to use in an emergency while I was away, and she panicked, thinking they’d be better off in the zoo. I’m glad to say they’re now with a very caring customer. But thank you, anyway, for feeding them and making sure they were all right. I hope there’ll be no more animals to leave in the shed! Have a nice day, Josie. Bye.”

And I hope I have a nice day too, he thought, as he went to collect the Fiat. I am certainly due for one. I suppose I shall have to visit Pettison and keep him up to date, although Betsy will no doubt have been in touch with him. I could shop her to Pettison for disobeying orders, but I can’t be bothered. Anyway, I expect she has a hold over him, their relationship being what it is.

He laughed. “Good luck to them!” he said, and drove into the hospital car park feeling cheerful.

Pettison soon changed his mood. He greeted him with the news that the shrews had turned out to be piebald mice, and he wanted an explanation. The noble lord had been furious, saying he did not intend to put mice into his menagerie of rare and beautiful animals. He required an explanation, and without it, there would be no more orders from him. All this had been conveyed by an intermediary, of course. The noble lord was too fly to be directly involved.

“Menagerie?” said Justin. “What the hell is that? I thought they went out of fashion years ago.”

“A very respectable pedigree,” said Pettison. “Sometime in the eighteenth century, when exploration was bringing back all kinds of strange plants and animals, every man of power and influence with a country estate had a menagerie, housed often in wonderful buildings, and far enough away from the main house to lessen the sound of tigers roaring and monkeys screaming. I tell no lie, Justin. You can read about them. That’s why I call my collection at the hall my menagerie. Only difference is that my animals in the menagerie are dead, and have been for a long, long time. Most of them. Now, my turn to ask the questions. Why did the elephant shrews turn into piebald mice?”

“Don’t know, Uncle. They were locked up safely in the shed behind the shop, and when I came back from the funeral, they had gone. Josie Vickers knew nothing about their disappearance. But, as you probably know by now, I guessed and checked with Betsy. You had told me to give her a key, and she said yes, she had them, and would pass them on. My guess is that they died being transported from place to place, and Betsy, the silly woman, handed over substitutes.”

“Very annoying,” said Pettison. “Between you two dolts, you have lost me a very valuable customer.”

“Can’t you get some more elephant shrews?”

Pettison shook his head. “No, that line of supply has been busted. This particular business is becoming more and more difficult, with all the ridiculous laws on importing supposedly rare animals. And self-righteous busybodies interfering.”

“They have a point,” said Justin. “I read that ninety percent of animals imported from the wild, not bred in captivity, like you always say, die within the first year. I couldn’t sleep at night if I was as involved as you are.”

“Oh, I think you are very involved, my boy,” said Pettison. “If, God forbid, I am ever required to take seriously the law of the land, I shall see that you come down with me. I shall need some congenial company.”

“Let’s hope you can keep out of harm’s way, then. Now, I must be off. Last bits of paperwork at the solicitors to do with Father’s will.” He paused, and looked back. “That reminds me,” he said. “I want to talk to you about how my father had the bad luck to get drawn into your activities.”

“What would you like me to say, Justin? You must know by now that from the start he knew all about it, was quite happy for his barn to be used for transit purposes, and agreed not to say a word to anyone. Is that good enough for you?”

Justin had paled, and his hand trembled as he reached for his coat. “No, it is not. What did you use against him, to blackmail him into silence?”

“Harsh words, Justin,” Pettison said, and shook his head. “It’s all a long time ago. Are you sure you want to know all such irrelevant details? We got along well together, your father and I. That’s all you need to know.”

“No, it isn’t! My father was a God-fearing man, and I know for sure he would never willingly have done anything against the law.”

“Oh well, if you insist. To begin at the beginning, we went to the same boarding school and were in cahoots with various schemes there. We delighted in lifting things from other boys who we considered could afford to lose them!” He laughed at the memory, but Justin’s scowl deepened.

“Unfortunately, the school authorities took a serious view, and we were sent packing,” continued Pettison.

“But that was when you were quite young boys, and I expect you bullied him.”

“Perhaps, but the thing was, Justin old chap, your father’s family were as poor as church mice, and they were giving up everything to send him to a good school. They were heartbroken when we got the sack, and I helped your father out with finances for a while. We kept in touch, as you know, from then on. He was grateful, and when I needed his help, he was only too pleased to oblige.”

Pettison closed his eyes and subsided onto his pillows. “There were other schemes, too, dear boy, but now, off you go,” he said in a weak voice. “I need some sleep. Easily tired, you know. Tell the nurse I need her, on your way out.”

Justin was still shaking with rage when he got back into the Fiat. For a long while he sat and stared out of the window at the brick wall of the hospital. His misguided father had kept Pettison’s lousy secrets to the end! No wonder he had always seemed so worried when Justin asked awkward questions.

And now look at us! Justin caught a glimpse of himself in the driving mirror and shivered. My father is dead, no doubt comforted with the thought that his secrets would die with him. But Pettison had revived them, and Justin could be in the same soup as his father, unless he could think of a way out.

“I’ll make you pay, Robert bloody Pettison!” he shouted to the empty car. “See if I don’t, you old fool!”

He put the Fiat into gear, moved out of the car park, and turned in the direction of the zoo.

*

L
ois was on her way to see
D
ot
N
immo.
S
he had given her permission to help out when required at the zoo, and she intended to add the cost to Pettison’s bill. She saw the Fiat driving off up to the hall, and wondered why Justin should be heading that way when his uncle was in hospital. It could have been someone else, of course. Those little cars were very popular now. She waved to Margie Turner and drove on into the zoo park. There she got out of her car to find a familiar figure waiting for her.

“Morning, Lois. I didn’t expect to see you here.” It was Inspector Cowgill, smiling fondly at her. “Are you well, my dear? And how’s the new flat tenant doing?”

“I’m fine, thanks. And wasn’t that Justin Brookes on his way to the hall? I need to see him,” she improvised, “about a matter of access to the garden behind the shop. Are you hanging around here for a purpose, or have you developed a fondness for snakes?”

“Something like that,” said Cowgill. “Shall we have a coffee when you’ve finished with Brookes? I’ll meet you in the café.”

“Is it urgent?” said Lois. “I do have to get back to the office. Things I have to see to with Hazel.”

“Um, let me see. Shall we say in half an hour? Be there, please, Lois.”

Lois frowned. That was very unlike Hunter Cowgill. Definitely not so pliable this morning. Maybe it is something important.

She found Dot measuring out feed for the chimpanzees and asked her if she could spare a minute.

“Yes, but only a minute. I’ve been told the chimps can get very nasty if they’re hungry. What is it, Mrs M?”

“Can you come and see me this afternoon, then? I need to discuss something with you. Are you going up to the hall later?”

“No, not today. I’ll probably go up and have a dust around tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“Yep, but we do need to get you back to our usual schedules, Dot. It doesn’t look as if Pettison is coming home soon, and the girls, and Andrew, are anxious to get back to their usual routines. They appreciate that things are a bit difficult at the moment, but I said I was sure you would understand.”

“Right. You’re the boss, Mrs M. Can we discuss it this afternoon? I need to get this stuff to those gibbering idiots before they wrench my arm off.”

“Chimps? Yeah, well, they don’t all dress up in frilly pinafores and serve afternoon tea. Like on the telly. They can be rough, I know.”

“I was exaggerating a bit, as usual. The keeper’s shut them up until I’ve finished, thank God! The fully grown ones can be really violent. And they’re very strong! That cleaning woman who got savaged by this lot is a lot better, so they say here. She’s lucky to be alive, if you ask me. So off I go, bravely into the lion’s den! See you this afternoon, Mrs M.”

Thinking that Dot Nimmo would be equal to any chimpanzee, however strong, Lois turned to leave. Then, as planned, she decided to go up to the hall and have a nose around while she was there. She would make a list of things for Dot to concentrate on, and then be off home.

The Fiat was there, round the back of the building, and Lois parked nearby. She went through the unlocked back door into the kitchen, and yelled, “Yoo-hoo! Justin! Are you there? It’s only me, Lois Meade. Just checking on jobs for Dot.”

There was no reply, and she guessed he must be out of earshot. Fine. She’d come across him sooner or later back in the village. She made her way around the ground floor, making notes. It was surprising how dusty and unattractive a place could look when nobody was living there. She came to Pettison’s office and stopped. The door was closed.
He
couldn’t be in there, since he was safely tucked up in hospital. She gently pushed open the door.

She stopped at once, seeing a figure kneeling by an open drawer in the filing cabinet. The figure turned in alarm, and she saw that it was Justin, with piles of letters of all kinds stacked around in little heaps on the floor.

“What the hell do you want?” he said in a scared voice. “Get out! This room is private.”

“I know it is, but private for Pettison, surely. And since you ask, I’m making notes for when Dot Nimmo comes back to work. It’s already dirty and dusty everywhere.”

Justin scrambled to his feet, and she began to feel nervous, and turned to leave the room.

“Come back here, Mrs Meade,” he said. “I do need to explain to you. Perhaps you should get on with your work and forget you’ve seen me here, and we could talk later.”

Lois stopped. “I’ll do no such thing,” she said. “Unless you give me a good explanation
now
why I should do so.”

He walked towards her nodding, and she retreated.

“I guess I owe you an apology,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that riffling through Uncle’s papers is not something I wanted to be caught at. The fact is, I’m looking for letters between him and my father. Things were not good for my dad, and I’m hoping to put it right. Sorry, Mrs Meade. Could we sit down for a moment, and I’ll try to explain? It is quite a long story.”

They sat down on the sagging sofa, and he told her as briefly as he could how his father had been blackmailed by Pettison, and now he was in the same situation. When he finally stopped talking, she stood up and said she would have to think about everything. “I’ll give you a call later,” she said, and walked towards the door. He was choking, near to tears, and as she looked back at him, she tripped, cracking her head on a stone step as she fell.

Justin stooped over her, frantically checking that she was still alive, and then lifted her up with difficulty. He staggered back into the drawing room, where he almost dropped her onto the sagging sofa. Then he sat down on a nearby chair, breathing heavily, pulled out his mobile and dialled emergency.

He grabbed a moth-eaten rug from a pile by the fireplace, and covered her with it, looking anxiously into her face for signs of movement. Her colour was definitely improving. She’s very pretty in repose, he thought abstractedly. He wondered what his uncle Pettison thought of her. Probably all he could see was a dangerous enemy. He had plenty of those, the old fool. “Now, I
must
make a plan, and carry it out,” he muttered.