“What is the point?”

“You’ve been putting pressure on Ted Crisp so that he will sell to you, and at a lower price than the pub is worth.”

“Really?” asked Will Maples.

Melissa Keats chipped in, “I think I should point out that it is against the law to make allegations against people – ”

But the solicitor was silenced by an upraised hand from her superior. “If you don’t mind, Melissa, let’s hear everything the ladies have to say first. Then I think we will be in a better position to judge whether there is any truth at all in their allegations.”

“Very well, Will,” she said, duly submissive.

“So, Mrs Seddon and Jude, could you define this ‘pressure’ which you claim Home Hostelries has put on the landlord of the Crown and Anchor?”

“It started with the food-poisoning,” Carole replied. “Some scallops that weren’t fresh were introduced into the Crown and Anchor kitchen.”

“But not by anyone from Home Hostelries.”

“We believe,” Carole went on, “that the scallops came in a delivery from KWS warehouse, which, as you know, holds stock for Snug Pubs, which are now a part of the Home Hostelries group. The delivery man’s name is Matt.”

While her friend talked, Jude was studying Dan Poke’s face intently. She was sure she saw a reaction when the name of Sylvia Crisp’s fiance was mentioned. But he quickly covered it up.

“If what you say was correct,” said Will Maples, “then there should be some record of it in the KWS office. Nothing gets delivered without an order form.”

“The paperwork has disappeared.”

“Has it, Mrs Seddon? Well, well, well. How unfortunate.” Now there was a smile on Will Maples’s face. An infuriatingly complacent one. He made a note on a pad in front of him. “So…this food-poisoning from…scallops was it you said? You believe it to have been deliberately engineered, but you have no proof of that. Isn’t it more likely that the outbreak arose because of some carelessness, some lapse of hygiene in the Crown and Anchor kitchen? The weather has been exceptionally hot.”

Jude couldn’t help herself from bursting out, “Ted Crisp’s standards of hygiene cannot be faulted. He sees to it that that kitchen is kept spotless.”

Will Maples gave her a patronizing smile. “I’ve heard exactly the same thing from every landlord I’ve ever encountered…often in the teeth of the evidence. On occasions even when I have heard the cockroaches being crunched underfoot. Publicans, Jude, are not, generally speaking, the most truthful of individuals.”

“All right,” said Carole. “Let’s put the food-poisoning on one side and move on to the bikers.”

“Bikers?” Will Maples echoed.

“Yes, you know what bikers are?”

“I certainly do.”

“Well, don’t you think it’s rather strange that, just after the Crown and Anchor’s reopened after the food- poisoning business, it suddenly gets invaded by a horde of bikers.”

“I gather,” said Will Maples with a little self-congratulatory smile, “that bikers go where they choose. The life of the open road is what they seek, and which particular drinking hole they favour…well, I’d have thought that was up to them.”

“These particular bikers were an organized rent-a-mob.”

“Organized? By using that word, Mrs Seddon, you imply that there must have been someone doing the organizing.”

“There was.”

“And I don’t suppose by any chance you’ve got a name for that person, have you?” His patronizing tone was now on the verge of being downright rude.

“As a matter of fact, I do. He is an ex-soldier invalided out of Iraq, who lives in Fratton. His name is Derren Hart.”

This time Jude saw an unmistakable twitch of recognition from Dan Poke. And Will Maples too seemed momentarily taken aback by the mention of the name. But he was quickly back into his smooth insolence. “And are you telling me, Mrs Seddon, that this Mr…Hart, was it…has admitted to his involvement in organizing wrecking crews of bikers?”

Carole was forced to admit that he hadn’t.

“So, as with the food poisoning, what you have is a supposition, but no proof to back it up?” He smiled across at the solicitor. “Not the kind of case that would stand up in court, would it, Melissa?”

She agreed, with a pitying look at the two women, that it wouldn’t.

Will Maples’s smile grew broader. “I must congratulate you on the power of your imaginations, ladies. Were there any other allegations against Home Hostelries that you wished to make?”

“I am certain,” said Jude, “that the fight at the Crown and Anchor after Dan Poke’s gig was started deliberately.”

The Acquisitions manager’s neatly suited shoulders shrugged. “Aren’t all fights started deliberately? Someone takes offence at something another person has said or done, they throw a punch. The punch is returned, a fight ensues. I’d say that was deliberate.”

“I mean that Derren Hart and his bikers deliberately started the fight to give the Crown and Anchor a reputation for rowdiness.”

“And, once again, the small matter of proof…? Did your Mr, er, Hart come to you on penitent bended knee to confess his anti-social behaviour?”

Again, Carole could not pretend that he had.

“We seem to be shooting down your allegations at a rate of knots, don’t we, Mrs Seddon? Is there anything else you wish to raise?”

“Just the fact that what’s happening at the Crown and Anchor is a carbon copy of what had happened at the Cat and Fiddle a few months previously.” There was momentary eye contact between the two men at this, but they quickly covered it up. “Shona Nuttall definitely believes that she was bullied into selling her pub at a reduced price.”

“Does she?” said Will Maples.

“And would she be prepared to stand up in court to make that allegation?” asked Melissa Keats.

“No. I think she’s too demoralized by the whole business.”

“Ah,” said the solicitor with something that wasn’t far from satisfaction. She then looked sternly at the two women. “I think, if you have nothing further to add, I should clarify the legal position to – ”

“We do have something further to add,” protested Jude. “We haven’t yet mentioned the biggest allegation of all – the murder of Ray Witchett.”

Will Maples raised a languid eyebrow. “Are you suggesting that one of us stabbed him?”

“No. The murder was done by a friend of his called Viggo.”

“Well, maybe you should be looking for a confession for this Viggo, rather than from us.”

“Viggo is dead.”

“Oh, how unfortunate.”

“As you well know.”

Will Maples gave another shrug, neither confirming nor rebutting her assertion.

“But we believe,” Jude went on, “that Viggo was put up to the stabbing by Derren Hart, who was acting on orders from you!”

That did it. The floor was handed to Melissa Keats, who gave Carole and Jude a very thorough dressing- down. She quoted at them from the laws of slander and defamation. She spelled out to them the dire consequences of their repeating any of their allegations in any forum, public or private. And she left them in no doubt that, if the situation were ever to come to a court of law, the not inconsiderable resources of the Home Hostelries group would be deployed against them.

Carole and Jude left the building feeling like schoolgirls who’d just had many strips torn off them by their headmistress.

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