Small Town Suspicions (Some Very English Murders Book 3) Read online

  “Shouldn’t you have waited for the police and the ambulance to arrive?” a woman said.

  Steve’s eyes were wide and glistening. “I weren’t gonna wait there, next to a body all dead and that! Oh, no. He were dead! He were all stiff!” He added in a few expletives.

  He might have just graduated, Penny thought, but it wasn’t with a degree in English. She wondered where he had studied, as he hadn’t lost a single scrap of his broad local accent.

  “Did you touch him?” someone asked.

  “Of course I didn’t touch him!” The poor lad was genuinely distressed. “He were … urgh. Like, laid out on the ground. He were a funny colour, blue and white and red, and there was all this sick everywhere…”

  Everyone gasped and recoiled, and rather ghoulishly, everyone wanted to know even more details. “Did you see anything else suspicious?” Shaun, the council leader, asked.

  “Suspicious? What, like, apart from a corpse?” Steve shot back.

  “Was there anyone around? Did you see any vehicles? Anything?”

  Someone else butted in, saying, “Surely the police will ask him that sort of thing. We’re probably interfering with enquiries or something.”

  “Yeah,” Steve said. His fists were tight little balls of stretched white skin. “But anyway, I didn’t see nothing. Nothing! Just some old dirty van, and a shabby hatchback. And that were it.”

  “What colour was the van?”

  Steve was not coping with the pressure of being harangued and questioned from all sides. “I dunno!” he bawled. “Red. Reddish-brown. No, white. Whatever. I just came to tell you all. I just came to tell my aunt. I want to talk to my aunt. Where is she?”

  “She’s not here,” various people said, all masters and mistresses of the obvious.

  Steve stared about wildly, and without a further word, began to push through the crowd to the doors at the back of the hall. People called after him, barracking him with loud and insistent questions, but he ignored them all, and slammed the doors hard back as he shot through them and away into the gathering dusk.

  “Well now,” said Agatha, appearing at Penny’s side like an apparition. “Why would he think that his aunt was here, eh?”

  “Well, I thought she was going to be here,” Penny pointed out. “She’s pretty prominent in the local arts scene.”

  “True, but Steve is living with Ginni at the moment. He moved in once his final term ended the other week. That’s why she’s so keen to get him gainfully employed, you might say.”

  “But Ginni lives in that tiny flat above her floristry shop!”

  “Exactly. There’s hardly room for one up there, never mind two.” Agatha sucked her teeth. “Now I do wonder, of course, what that Steve was doing down at Alec Goodwin’s house in the first place.”

  “Where is Alec’s house?” Penny asked. “South Road, that man said…”

  “Right the way down South Road,” Agatha told her. “You go past the pub on the roundabout and you keep on going, until you run out of houses. And you go on a bit further, and it’s there, behind a load of tall conifers.”

  That was so typical of Lincolnshire, Penny thought. There were huge, detached houses scattered all over the farming area, hidden away behind trees and hedges.

  “Is it on the way to anywhere? Could Steve have been passing by, quite innocently?”

  Agatha blurted out a laugh, and a few eavesdroppers that were nearby also laughed. “No, my love, no. It’s the real back of beyond. It’s not the sort of place you’d go even if you wanted to.”

  “But that makes no …” Penny stopped and shook her head. Agatha didn’t always make sense. She understood what the hairdresser meant.

  The man who had been turning around and talking to them before was still close by. He said, “Happen he was down there seeing that Barry chap.”

  Penny ran the Lincolnshire dialect through her mental dictionary. Steve might have been visiting someone called Barry. “Who’s Barry?”

  “Oh, he’s just a farm labourer that rents a cottage next to Alec’s house,” Agatha told her. “I say a ‘cottage.’ Actually it’s a prefab place, should have been knocked down after the war. You wouldn’t keep chickens in it, but there we go. Barry’s part of the scenery around here. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, would Barry. He’s one of nature’s children, if you know what I mean, eh?”

  “No, not really.” Penny mentally added Barry to her shortlist and then reminded herself that no one even knew if Alec’s death had been foul play.

  People were forming into small groups, and all the chatter that she could overhear was about Steve and Alec. Why had Steve been there? How had Alec died?

  And why had Steve run to the meeting with the news, instead of staying with the body for the authorities to arrive?

  The speculation became circular, as things did when there was no new information. Penny bid Agatha farewell, and began to walk slowly back to her cottage.

  Very slowly.

  Francine would be there, being all cheerful and sweetness and keen.

  But then, Penny reminded herself, her dog Kali would also be waiting for her. She picked up the pace again.

  * * * *

  Penny’s cottage was one of a row, all built in warm yellow stone that had been quarried locally some fifty years previously. The road, River Street, was a dead end, and tended to be quiet although there was a footpath at the far end that led down to the river, where young people would gather on warm evenings, laughing and sneakily drinking and pretending to be rebels. The cottages didn’t have front yards. They faced directly onto the pavement, but out at the back of the cottages, they had long gardens that ran to an alleyway. Penny’s small car was parked out at the front of her cottage, and her frivolously-purchased classic motorbike and sidecar was in the shed at the bottom of her back garden.

  And next to her own car was Francine’s little red hatchback. Penny stopped on the pavement and gazed at her front door.

  But her moment of reflection was immediately interrupted by a barrage of barking. Penny winced and made a silent apology to her neighbours. How did Kali know that Penny was standing outside? Francine would tell her that they were in tune with one another because they’d “bonded” but she had also starting referring to Penny as “Kali’s mummy” which Penny found both odd and awkward.

  The front door opened and Francine’s beaming face appeared above the delightful apparition of foaming, barking dog. Kali shot out, tail blurring, and butted into Penny, almost twisting herself into a spiral in her eagerness to greet her owner. She wanted to simultaneously press against Penny, lie down for a belly rub, and run in a circle. She tried to do all three, and nearly fell over. Penny knew that her daft Rottweiler would never be entering any agility competitions. She’d fallen backwards off the sofa more than once.

  “I told you she was coming back,” Francine said to the over-excited dog.

  Penny patted Kali once, and stood up straight. “It’s not good for her to get so wound up,” she said. “I can usually come and go without her making a big fuss.”

  Francine didn’t look at Penny. She was holding her arms out to Kali and making “shush” noises. Kali, quite understandably, didn’t like the outstretched hand which looked like a bit of a threat to her, and the noise Francine was making was unsettling. So Kali stayed by Penny, leaning back against her legs, and making a snuffling noise of greeting.

  Francine looked hurt. She sighed and stood up to face Penny, brushing her hands together. “Well. So how was the sculpture meeting? Did you get to see lots of exciting designs? What are they going to do? When will it be completed? Is it fantastic?”

  Penny stroked the top of Kali’s head. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to sift it all in her mind and mull it over for a while. She’d always lived alone, more or less, and was set in her ways.

  But Francine was smiling in an open and disarming way. Penny didn’t want to seem rude or churlish.

  “An artist had been chosen,” Penny said
. “And some people were quite upset, because the council did it secretly and in advance. It’s all irrelevant now, though. He seems to have suffered some … uh, misfortune.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “He’s dead, apparently.”

  Francine’s hand flew to her mouth in a dramatic yet – for her – totally natural movement. Her usually narrow eyes widened. “No! How and when? Right there, at the meeting? Oh gosh. How awful for him, and you all. Was it a heart attack?”

  “Not quite. He didn’t actually make it to the meeting. It was a man called Alec Goodwin.”

  Francine’s mouth closed and opened. “Alec Horatio Goodwin,” she said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “He’s a famous sculptor. He lives here in Upper Glenfield. Surely you know that!”

  Now Penny was as curious as Francine had been. “Since when were you into sculpture?” Penny and Francine had worked together on television productions in London, but Francine had never seemed the cultural type.

  “Since I moved here, and did some research about the personalities of the local area,” Francine said.

  “Moved here?”

  Even sweet Francine could pick up on Penny’s tone. Her smile wavered. “Well, you know what I mean. Anyway. I am sure Kali would love a walk! Walkies! Walkies, Kali, walkies!” Her voice rose higher and higher, and Kali remained pressed to Penny’s leg, her brow furrowed and ears pricked forward.

  “She would love a walk,” Penny said. “I’ll just go grab her lead.”

  “Oh, let me.” Francine darted back into the hallway and picked the lead off the hook behind the door. She passed it to Penny and said, “And I’ll just go fetch my shoes, and –”

  Penny clipped the lead to Kali’s collar and began to retreat as if she hadn’t heard Francine. She had. And she felt like a terrible person. But she desperately needed some space.

  “I won’t be long,” she trilled with a falsely cheerful voice. “I may as well make the most of this lovely evening. See you soon!”

  * * * *

  She had to walk along South Road, in the direction of Alec Goodwin’s house. She was driven to it. She didn’t even pretend to herself that it was anything other than pure, naked curiosity on her part.

  The light was fading but she wasn’t worried, even when the sparse street lights petered out. It would not be full dark for some time yet, and the three-quarter moon was already rising. Kali stopped to sniff the new and exciting clumps of grass that she hadn’t ever sniffed before, and her tail wagged in delight from time to time when she discovered something particularly rank and smelly. Penny didn’t like to look too closely.

  She was going to have a proper sit-down chat with Francine, she decided. She didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but it was time for her to leave.

  She wasn’t entirely clear on why Francine had come. “Manifesting one’s destiny” sounded like something you’d say to yourself rather than a painful truth. There had to be more to it, and it was one reason why Penny was treading carefully. On the one hand, she needed to let Francine reveal her real reasons in her own time.

  But on the other hand, Penny wanted her cottage back.

  Penny tried out various scenarios in her head, but they all seemed to end with Francine in floods of tears.

  Her mind was so pre-occupied with the right course of action that she didn’t notice Kali was stressed out about something until the dog lunged forward, dragging the lead from her hands. With a wild yelp, she plunged into a hedge, her tail thrashing from side to side.

  “Kali! No!” she yelled, and then remembered the positive training she was supposed to be doing. Tell the dog what you do want, not what you don’t. “Kali - sit!”

  The dog’s tail thrashed once more and her hindquarters disappeared into the foliage.

  Chapter Three

  “Kali! Come here!” Penny stopped and took a step back. She had to keep her voice calm and upbeat, she reminded herself. Kali was a much better behaved and more relaxed dog these days, but she had a long way to go yet before she’d win any prizes at a behaviour class. Penny should have noticed the warning signs; it was her own fault, and directing anger at the dog was pointless. Dogs did dog things. Penny was still learning about dog training. She knew she had to sound happy. After all, as the knowledgeable man in the rambling group had told her, who would run towards someone who sounded angry?

  It made sense. Penny could see that there was only a field of crops on the other side of the hedge, so she wasn’t worried about Kali wreaking havoc upon livestock. “Kali! I have lots of yummy treats,” she announced in a sing song voice. “Come here, Kaliiiiiiii. Come on, girl. Let’s go!”

  There was a rustling, a growl, some scuffles and then a black nose pushed through the hedge, followed by the rest of the dog. She looked sheepishly to the floor, expecting to be berated and shouted at. She was a rescue dog, with an unpleasant past, and her submission to humans always broke Penny’s heart.

  “Oh, come here,” Penny said, dropping to her knees. She fished around in her pocket for a soft treat. Her hands smelled of tripe most of the time, these days. There was also a smudge on the thighs of most of her walking trousers, where she’d constantly wipe her hands clear of dog drool.

  Kali looked at Penny sideways and licked her lips in nervousness, but when she caught the scent of the meaty snack, she perked up and licked her lips in genuine anticipation. As soon as she was close enough, Penny gave her the treat and lots of reassuring petting. There was no point in telling her off now; she wouldn’t connect the punishment with what had gone on just a few moments previously.

  “What was all that about?” Penny mused. Then she spotted the ragged remnants of a white carrier bag in the hedge. It made sense. Kali hated them and would still flinch when anyone walked past her carrying a similar bag.

  “Come on, you. Happy now?”

  Kali looked up, mouth open and tongue lolling.

  Dogs lived in the moment, and it was a fine pattern to follow.

  * * * *

  It was easy to find the right house. After all, there was a rather obvious police cordon outside. There was a police car parked up on the grassy verge, a police van on the verge opposite, and blue and white tape stretched across the gateway that was flanked by high hedges.

  She recognised PC Patel who was standing by the tape. He blanched slightly when he saw her, but he quickly plastered a professional smile on to greet her.

  “Good evening, Ms May.”

  “Hi, there. Um. Look. About that biscuit I gave you, all those months ago. I’m sorry. I never got the chance to apologise for ever-so-slightly poisoning you…”

  “No, no, no. It’s fine. It’s all forgotten.”

  She grinned. “If I had known you were here, I would have brought you a cake to say sorry properly…”

  A female voice spoke sternly from behind PC Patel. “Stop teasing my constable.”

  “Cath! Sorry. I should call you DC Pritchard. You’re all official.”

  “I am.” Cath Pritchard grinned back. She was in plain clothes, just a smart dark trouser suit that was well fitted to her matronly figure. “I wondered how long it would take for you to turn up.”

  “Well, as I was of such assistance last time, I thought my presence would be welcomed.”

  “Not with the dog, I’m afraid. Hello, Kali.”

  “I’m just here to look,” Penny said.

  “Of course, and I think that you can, at least from a distance. I think the Inspector’s special dispensation from last time was never revoked, was it? Not officially revoked, as it was never officially given. It’s just that we have our own dogs working part of the area, though.” Cath nodded at Kali. “She can stay with PC Patel. You like dogs, don’t you?”

  “I tolerate dogs,” he said stiffly. “I prefer cats.”

  “She’s friendly,” Penny said, holding out the lead to the young policeman. “I know she’s a Rottweiler but she does love people. Generally. Just don’t wave
a white carrier bag at her, that’s all.”

  PC Patel looked startled but took the lead, and Penny ducked under the blue and white tape, following Cath along a neglected and weed-strewn gravel driveway.

  Penny was bursting with questions, but she managed to bite her tongue. She looked around for a moment, absorbing what she saw, wanting to get a feel for the place where Alec had lived. Ahead of them was a square, boxy house in red brick, with a door in the dead centre and two windows either side. Upstairs were two more windows. The wooden frames had blue paint, peeling and cracked. It looked just like a child’s drawing of what a house should be. All it needed was a smiling yellow sun hanging above it.

  “I’m surprised,” Penny said. “It looks really small.”

  “It is,” Cath said. “Everyone thought he was a rich genius, but really, he was neither rich nor … well, I don’t rate his art. I suppose you heard about all this while you were at the Sculpture Trail meeting? We’ve had lots of busy-bodies come nosing down here in the past hour.”

  “Yeah. A young man called Steve burst in. He’s Ginni the florist’s nephew. Everyone’s talking about why he was here in the first place, and why he ran away.”

  “It is a bit strange, why he was here. But as for running off – that’s normal. People panic and act in all sorts of ways.”

  Penny paused. “He also mentioned there was a van here as well as a car. Where is it?” She could only see a car, a small hatchback.

  “There wasn’t any van here. That’s Alec’s little car, there. Did he give a description of the van?”

  “Not really. He said it was red, then changed his mind and said it was white.”

  “That,” said Cath, “sounds very suspicious. But he was in a panic when he made the call. It has freaked him out a lot, from what I hear. He can have some counselling, if he likes, at some point.”

  They walked around the side of the house, and Penny saw there was a single-storey building at the far end of the long, overgrown garden. The building was made from prefab concrete sheets, and had a tin roof. It looked like the emergency housing the government had encouraged to be built after the second world war, but those structures were never intended to be used for more than ten years. The grey walls had dark patches blooming across them, and it didn’t look very safe or appealing. It was bordered by a plain chain-link fence, six feet high, and it had the whiff of a prison about it. Somewhere, a dog was barking. Penny turned back to look at the main house. They were now standing on a green and cracked patio.