Terror on Tuesday

considered. She knew better than to grill her, but just said that whatever it was she hoped Prue would soon be recovered and back at home.

Then when Derek came in, he was full of it. “Seems the parents aren’t sayin’ anything, and have told Prue’s friends to keep their mouths shut, so it’s not appendicitis, is it? Somethin’ they don’t want talked about. Doug in the pub says they’d had a row, Prue and her dad. Stopped her working in the pub. But he was sure old Betts would never knock her about, nothin’ like that. That Dick Reading, yes, all the blokes in the pub know about him. But Prue’s dad’s one of them non-violence, preachy sort.”

Josie and Douglas exchanged glances. “Them quiet ones are always the worst,” said Douglas, with comic maturity.

Josie hooted. “O ‘course, you’d know all about it, wouldn’t ya.”

Douglas reached over the table, took a half-eaten orange from Josie’s plate and ran off upstairs, followed by loud strictures from his parents and admiring laughter from Jamie.

When things had quietened down, Lois turned to Derek and said quietly, “I don’t like it, Derek, there’s something funny goin’ on.”

“Well, no doubt you and your huntin’ chum will find out what it is,” said Derek lightly.

? Terror on Tuesday ?

Thirteen

Alibone Woods were full of the sounds of invisible creatures. Birds and rabbits rustled in the undergrowth, and a black crow clattered away over the trees in alarm at Lois’s footsteps. At this time of day there were no walkers, and the bluebells that in Spring attracted hundreds of visitors had died away, leaving slippery mats of rotting leaves that caught Lois unawares. As she picked her way along the twisting path, wishing she’d remembered to put wellies in her car, she saw Cowgill’s tall shape leaning against a tree in the clearing where they had arranged to meet.

As he heard her approach, he turned to greet her. “Morning,” he said. “Thanks for coming.”

His face was the usual impassive policeman’s mask, but Lois thought he had a particularly sombre look about him this morning. “What’s up?” she said, getting down to business.

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, for a start,” he said, “an elderly man has been found dead on a tomb in Dalling church…”

“All right, all right,” said Lois, “but what’s new? Must be something for me to be standing in the middle of a muddy wood with – ”

“And I appreciate your coming,” Cowgill interrupted, “especially when your New Brooms is just getting off the ground. How’s it going, by the way?”

“Fine,” answered Lois. “But what did you want? I’ve got to go over and introduce Gary Needham into a new job later, so I can’t stay long.”

“Ah yes,” said Cowgill. “Tell me about young Gary. Satisfactory, is he?”

“I don’t know yet,” said Lois, shrugging. “So far he seems fine.”

“And the others?” said Cowgill.

Lois frowned. She didn’t want to talk about her team to Cowgill. Lines had to be drawn. She shrugged. “Well, there’s Bridie and Hazel, and I’ve got a woman from Waltonby signed up, too: Sheila Stratford – very nice woman.”

“Yes, we’ve already talked to her,” said Cowgill. “Her husband works on the hall farm, and she sometimes does flowers in the church.”

“So what else, then?” she said, hoping to get him on to something new. But he came back to Gary Needham.

“Young Gary,” he said. “Anything you can tell me? First impressions, family background, that sort of thing? I know you well enough to know you’d have made enquiries.”

Lois sighed. Cowgill never gave up, she knew only too well, so she told him how she’d first thought Gary a complete waste of time, just what she did not want. Then she described her change of mind, and how at the first meeting of all of them together, Gary had seemed to fit in well. He had a knack of being able to handle the others’ doubts about him. And, more importantly, he’d proved his claim to be an excellent cleaner. She did not tell him about the noises Sheila heard at the surgery on the first morning. This had nothing to do with Gary, surely.

“So have you got something on him?” she said.

Cowgill shook his head. “Not really,” he said. “He’s been seen with some unlikely characters in Tresham… clubbing, all of that…but no, nothing necessarily wrong.”

“Clubbing!” said Lois. “Don’t talk to me about that! Our Josie only mentions it six times a day and pesters the life out of us to let her go with some older kids.”

“Don’t let her,” said Cowgill flatly. “If you can stop her, that is,” he added.

“Oh yes, we can stop her,” said Lois. “Now we’re in Long Farnden, she can’t just flounce out and disappear. Needs us for transport, fortunately. What else did you want to know?” She had told him nothing much, really.

“Anything odd come your way, in the cleaning jobs?” said Cowgill. “Overheard anything in the hall, or reports from the cleaners? You know anything you say is in strict confidence, anyway.”

Lois told him about the major’s acting activities, and about Hazel’s encounter with Mrs Jordan and her wig. She asked him if he knew about the drama group? He did, of course, but was interested in Hazel Reading.

“Quite a bright spark, that one,” he said. “Knows the scene pretty well.”

“What scene?” said Lois. She remembered now how she had always found his enigmatic remarks extremely irritating.

“Oh, you know,” he replied, “latest crazes, pubs, staying afloat. Her mum’s a friend of yours, isn’t she, Lois? And her dad? What do you know about him?”

“Too much,” said Lois. “He’s a sod, as I expect you know. Still, Hazel’s got him sussed out, and Bridie seems a lot happier now she’s working for Brooms. Nothing bad enough for you to step in there,” she added quickly.

She was waiting for him to ask what she knew about Prue Betts, and sure enough, just when they’d started to walk back to the cars, he said casually, “Don’t suppose you know the Betts’s at Waltonby? Prue Betts, worked in the pub with Hazel? Father’s the school headmaster?”

Lois stood still. “No, I’ve only seen her in the pub. But now she’s in hospital, the family have clammed up, and my Josie knows something. If she tells me, I’ll let you know. Sounds a bit dodgy. Is there a connection, then, with the major?”

Cowgill shook his head. “Too early to tell,” he said unhelpfully.

“What d’you want me to do, then?” said Lois. “Apart from grassing on everybody I know.”

“No need to be like that,” said Cowgill. “But I’d like to know more about these amateur theatricals without them knowing I’m interested at the moment. See what you can glean. Oh, and by the way, you haven’t asked me how the major got into that suit of armour, or how we got him out. Not like you, Lois, to miss the obvious!”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind, in case you’d forgotten,” said Lois sharply. “But tell me, anyway. I had wondered. Thought maybe somebody had half-inched a suit of armour from the hall, though I can’t say I’ve ever noticed one.”

“Imitation,” said Inspector Cowgill.

“Come again?” said Lois.

“Polywhatever sort of stuff…the suit was made of it. Very well made, painted up to look just like the real thing. Just like you’d have on stage, in a play. We cut him out with very little trouble. Well, here we are,” he added, his voice now quite cheerful, and before she could reply, he’d thanked her again, said he looked forward to hearing from her, and disappeared at speed in his car.

¦

“Fancy a night out at the theatre?” said Lois to Derek.

He stared at her. “You gone crazy?” he said. He could just about be persuaded to go to the cinema, if the film was about football, but theatre was a foreign land to Derek, and he did not intend to venture abroad.

“There’s this amateur lot in Tresham,” said Lois. “Seems they’ve got a good comedy on, so the girls were