Small Town Shock (Some Very English Murders Book 1) (19 page)

“That’s it,” Penny said. “Thomas is jealous. He
was
jealous of the farm and the money it was making. The farm that he didn’t want
at first! And David has no wife and no kids. Did he leave a will? All his
assets will go to Thomas if he hasn’t left a will, won’t it?”

“Oh yes…”

“Can you find out, Cath? Do you know if there was a will?”

“Leave it to me. I’ll do some digging.”

* * * *

A polite young man from the police station came to chat
with Penny later that day. He found her in the back garden, trying to make
sense of the mysterious plants and weeds that were emerging in the fertile
soil.

“Is this supposed to be here?” she’d asked him, pointing at
something dark green that emitted a sinister smell.

“I have no idea.” He looked startled. “I’m from the
police,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious from his uniform. “It’s about your
antics last night…”

She plied him with tea and he accepted one of the awful
biscuits. It was a credit to his courtesy that he manfully ate the whole thing
with hardly a wince. She promised to be very good, and he advised her that any
further reports of her harassment would be dealt with “severely and promptly.”

And that was the end of that matter, except that she now
had a “file” and the incident was logged in it.

The rest of Sunday was quiet. She pottered around, did some
sketching, and spent some time trying to teach Kali to sit and stay. Kali could
now stay in another room and patiently wait until she was called – at least,
unless she was distracted by something, such as a passing car, a falling dust
mote or an invisible current in the air.

She didn’t hear from Cath again until Monday afternoon, by
which time she was wild with frustration at not knowing what was going on. She
was very close to just running out of the house and launching herself on Mary
to ask her more questions. And she wondered if she ought to tell Cath about
Mary’s threatening letters. But it seemed like a betrayal of trust; it was up
to Mary to decide what to do. She could hardly ride roughshod over another
adult’s personal decisions.

Still, she was uneasy about ignoring it, and she did pop to
the shops to buy the right ingredients for a decent cake, with the intention of
taking it around to Mary to show her support.

When Cath did call her, she sounded perky and excited. “I’m
on my way home,” she said, all faint and muffled. Penny guessed she was using
her hands-free device in her car. “So I’m not technically working. First of
all, was it PC Patel that came out to you yesterday?”

“Yes. He was a very pleasant and polite young man. He
doesn’t know anything about gardening, though.

“Er … right. He called in sick today. You gave him a
biscuit, didn’t you?”

“Oh no. Sorry. Yes, I did. Is he okay?”

“I
hope
so. Anyway, the next thing is that Thomas
was brought back in to the police station – okay, he was asked back, not
arrested – to answer a few more questions. I shouldn’t tell you this, and you
never heard it from me, but his marriage was pretty rocky.”

“I am utterly unsurprised.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s one thing to wonder about it, and
another to have it confirmed from the horse’s mouth. It was Eleanor. He says
that she was having affairs.”

“Not unusual,” Penny said. “I can quite see that happening
with her. I’m surprised that the local gossips didn’t know, though.” Bang goes
your theory, Drew; not everyone knows everyone else’s business.

“There’s more!” Cath exclaimed. “Oh yes. Get this: before
Thomas and Eleanor got married, she was actually going to marry David!”

“Oh.” Penny stared at Kali, who was sitting at her feet.
Kali blinked and looked away. “Oh wow…”

“Oh wow, indeed.”

“Do you think they carried on seeing one another, even
though she was now married to his brother? What happened? Why did she switch from
one to the other?” Penny asked.

“I reckon that David simply wasn’t glamorous enough.
Remember, at that time, Thomas was jetting around the world while David was
working the farm. As for whether they continued to see one another once she was
married … I don’t know.”

“This just gives you even more motives and reasons to
suspect Thomas,” Penny said. “And you guys released him?”

“It’s nothing to do with me. I’m sorry. Look … I’m home
now. Don’t let on that I told you any of this, all right?”

“You’re secretly enjoying the chase as much as I am, aren’t
you?” Penny said.

“No. Maybe. Yes, of course, because it’s my job.”

“Yes… and I’m helping, aren’t I?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I need to go in and get the oven on.”

“You’re loving this.”

“Go away. I’m getting out of the car. I’m finishing this
call.”

“La la la I’m not listening,” Penny said with a laugh.

“Bye.”

When the call ended, Penny remained sitting on her sofa,
her sketchbook loose in her hands. She was happy. She felt like she had a new
friend. And she was deeply frustrated that it was so blindingly obvious that
Thomas Hart had killed his brother, and no one seemed to be doing anything
about it.

On Tuesday morning Penny was in the kitchen, sliding Mary’s
cake into the oven, when Kali went nuts in the hallway. It was the regular post
delivery, which never failed to ignite foaming fury in the dog. How dare the
postman come onto
her
property? No matter that Penny had patiently
introduced the dog to the postman on frequent occasions, and that if they met
outside, she would bound up to him expecting a treat.

“You daft dog,” Penny grumbled as she wiped her hands on a
towel and wandered down the hallway to rescue the slightly-chewed letters from
the mat. There was one junk mail circular, and one letter, with a Lincoln
postmark and the address printed in unsteady capital letters.

It looked very odd. She patted Kali absently and walked
back to the kitchen. She set the timer for the cake, and then stood by the
window as she opened the curious envelope.

There was one sheet of A4 paper inside, folded four times.
She flattened it out and her stomach felt cold.

The message was written in thick black marker pen, in the
same shaky capitals as the address.

It was a stark, blunt warning.

GET OUT

Penny’s hands shook. It was irrational, but she folded it
up and then unfolded it again, as if it would become a different message. But
it was no magic trick.

It was a threat.

Mary’s letters had told her to go away, too. Now it was
imperative that Penny spoke with Mary again. She had to compare the letters to
determine if they came from the same source. That would rule out David as the
sender of them – unless there was something supernatural going on, which she
highly doubted.

But then, this was Lincolnshire, after all.

* * * *

It was difficult to wait for the cake to cook. Finally she
pulled it out of the oven and left it to cool. While it rested on the wire
rack, she decided to go out and visit Drew in his forge. She needed to be
active and doing something to distract herself from the letter.

She had to let Cath and the police know. She was sure of
that. But she was also determined to find out a little more and see if it was
linked to Mary’s letters. She wasn’t sure if she was going to tell Drew or not,
but she wanted to.

But he had told her he didn’t want to be any part of it. He
knew she was going to talk to Eleanor and he had disagreed and walked away.

Penny walked more and more slowly as she neared the
industrial area. There was an agricultural vehicle showroom, with glossy, shiny
tractors in a row outside. There was some kind of small-scale catering
operation, and two white-coated workers leaned out of a fire exit to smoke some
cigarettes, their blue hairnets pushed back on their heads.

And there was the forge. She stopped in the shared car
parking area and looked across the tarmac to the open doors. So, he was in there.
She could hear the repetitive tap-tap-bang, tap-tap-bang as something magical
happened to metal as it became a useful or ornamental item.

He’d walked away from her.

He’d shown her kindness. She owed him for the head-collar
and the support he had shown.

She was torn.

Men made things complicated, she thought, somewhat crossly.
No wonder I avoided any of my relationships becoming serious. Although in
truth, I was always too busy to notice if they were getting serious or not, and
eventually the men gave up and wandered off, calling me “commitment shy” as
they left.

The tapping had stopped. A figure crossed the open space of
the doors, pausing halfway.

Her stomach lurched and she turned abruptly, and walked
quickly away from the scene. Men were too complicated, she told herself again.

Finally she decided to call Francine back, and she fished
her mobile phone from her bag as she went briskly along the High Street and
back to her cottage.

* * * *

The conversation with Francine was short as she was about
to go into a meeting.

“You have already forgotten what it’s like to work for a
living,” Francine said with a laugh. “It’s Tuesday. Normal people are working.”

“Oh my goodness. Yes, I did forget.”

“Quick, tell me about the craft group.”

Penny slowed her pace. “I haven’t spoken to you since that?
Oh no. There was Mary and then Ginni but she was angry and then Eleanor and
Thomas but I don’t have an ASBO but someone has sent me a threat, so…”

“What are the police doing about it?”

“I haven’t told them,” Penny confessed.

Penny didn’t need the miracle of telephone technology to
hear Francine’s shriek. “Go to the police right now!” There was a muffled
conversation then, as Francine told someone she was
on her way, hold on,
wait
. “Sorry. Just asking them to hang on with the meeting. I really have to
go. But Penny, please, go to the police. I’ll call you as soon as I can. How
exciting!”

And that was that.

How exciting?

Penny shook her head at Francine’s exuberance. Everything
had changed now. It wasn’t an exciting bit of fun. Someone had threatened her –
her, Penny – and she felt sick, vulnerable. And alone.

She let herself into her cottage, and buried her face in
Kali’s fur for a moment, sunk to her knees in the hallway. “Hey, there, girl.
We’ll be all right.”

Kali’s tail thumped the floor. Penny had to take that as a
yes. The smell of baking was filling her nostrils, and it was time to attend to
the cake.

She threw herself into the mechanics of cooking and
decorating. She whipped up some buttercream filling and sandwiched the Victoria
sponge cake together, adding a layer of jam as well. She dusted some icing
sugar over the top, and sat down to admire it. Kali came and pressed against
her leg, hopeful that some of the lovely-smelling cake would somehow just
mysteriously fall to the floor for her to helpfully eat.

The letter was sitting on the table, its message stark and
unequivocal. GET OUT.

She felt a heavy, dragging unwillingness to go and see
Mary. Her imagination was now working overtime. Was it a bluff by Mary to
garner sympathy? Was it someone dangerous? Was it the murderer?

What would happen if she did not GET OUT?

There was no threat spelled out. Was that going to come in
the next letter?

She laid her head on her arms briefly and closed her eyes. Maybe
Drew was right and she should never have meddled.

* * * *

When she awoke, her mouth was dry and her head was fuzzy.
Her shoulders ached and popped as she straightened up. What a stupid position
to fall asleep in, she thought.

The cake.

The cake was gone.

Her first thought linked it to the threatening letter,
until she saw the sheepish look on Kali’s face – not to mention the icing sugar
around her muzzle. Half of it was in pieces on the floor. Penny leaped to her
feet with a cry and Kali dashed away looking guilty.

“Oh no. What am I going to take to Mary now?” It felt like
the last straw. Penny hadn’t realised how much it was all getting to her until
this moment. On her knees, scraping up the destroyed cake, with a scary letter
on the table; she wanted to curl up and cry.

Like in London, when she had begun to realise that stress
was making her ill.

No. She sat back on her heels and took a deep breath. She
was in control, she told herself. Kali peeped around the door and Penny
remembered what she had read about the guilty look in dogs; it was really fear,
not guilt. She called Kali over and rubbed her head. Kali rolled onto her back,
which unfortunately smeared the jam a little more over the kitchen floor. The
dog was going to need a bath.

“Oh, you.” Penny started to giggle, and then to laugh. She had
to see the funny side. “Get up, daft dog.”

Kali sprang to her feet and looked at her feet in
confusion. Penny cleared up and wiped the floor. She grabbed some antibacterial
wipes designed for pets and made a valiant attempt to clean the remnants of the
cake out of Kali’s fur, much to the dog’s disgust. “I’m sorry. Were you saving
that for later? Look after the house, and try not to be sick,” she told the
dog. “I have a mission.” She picked up the letter and went to see Mary.

* * * *

Penny expected Mary’s house to be in some sort of
hippy-clutter-disarray with dream catchers and multi-coloured wall hangings and
the lingering scent of patchouli.

She was very wrong.

Mary opened the front door of her terraced cottage
cautiously, peering through a four-inch gap until she recognised Penny, and then
she flung the door open with a cry of greeting. “Now then! Penny, my duck!”