Mrs Pargeter 05; Mrs Pargeter’s Plot

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” he said jovially, and moved forward to push the boards aside. His jaw dropped. “What the…”

They both looked down in amazement. Leaning against the side of the brick-lined well were two paintings. Their age and subject matter suggested they were Old Masters; indeed, the dark browns of the smaller had about them the definite look of a Rembrandt.

Attached to the frame of the larger painting was a sheet of paper. It was headed, Mrs Pargeter observed with a sinking feeling, by a smiley face. The legend read:

I SAY, I SAY, I SAY, WHY DID THEY HANG THAT PICTURE?

I DON’T KNOW, WHY DID THEY HANG THAT PICTURE?

BECAUSE THEY COULDN’T FIND THE ARTIST.

Underneath this a note had been scribbled: “Don’t worry, Concrete. I won’t let you down again. This time I’ve remembered to ring the police.”

“Oh no,” Mrs Pargeter moaned. “I don’t believe…”

But her words trailed away in an awful moment of deja vu – or perhaps deja entendu. There was a sound of approaching sirens. Mrs Pargeter and Concrete Jacket turned, and the deja entendu was supplemented by deja vu. They looked down the hill to where two police cars were screeching to a halt beside Gary’s Rolls- Royce and the Range Rover.

Mrs Pargeter saw the prospects for her house’s completion fade once again away into the distance.

“Oh, Fossilface!” she groaned in exasperation.