“Shop’s not open yet. I didn’t look at the time. There’s a quarter of an hour to go, and I wouldn’t knock and be a nuisance at this hour of the morning.”
“How thoughtful,” said Lois acidly. “Well, as you have obviously heard, we are now talking to one another. Come on in, Mum,” she added, relenting. “Let’s make some more coffee. We’re sorry, aren’t we, Derek?”
“Heartbroken,” said Derek. He stood up and gave both of them a peck on the cheek. “Must be off now. Last meeting tonight before the final rehearsal on the playing field on Friday.”
After he had gone, Lois said she needed a quiet morning in the office. “Can you keep callers at bay, Mum?” she said. “I want a clear run without interruptions this morning.”
Gran beamed. Nothing she liked better than keeping callers at bay, but making sure she found out what they wanted first. “Leave it to me,” she said. “The only interruption will be when I bring in your coffee.”
Within ten minutes, Lois’s phone began to ring. Before she could reach out for the receiver, it stopped. Then she heard Gran’s loud voice from the kitchen, saying she was sorry, but Mrs. Meade was unavailable this morning. Lois grinned, and turned on her computer.
Time to take stock, she had thought. Priority number one: find Jack’s father, and persuade him to give himself up, for the boy’s sake. This was supposing he had been the kidnapper. Even if he wasn’t, he was needed by Paula and her family.
Priority number two: if he wasn’t guilty, then find out who was and bring him to justice. Again, for Jack Jr.’s sake. If he
And then she thought of something which was glaringly obvious, but so far she had missed.
The telephone rang again, and this time Gran came to the office door with a resigned expression. “It’s him, the inspector,” she said. “Won’t be put off.”
Lois nodded, and lifted up her phone. “Yeah? Lois here.”
Cowgill wasted no time. “I think we’ve got a feud here, Lois,” he said. “If Jack Jr.’s father wasn’t the one who took him, then the only possible reason for another to have done it is an old score to be settled. What d’you think?”
“Telepathy,” said Lois. “I was nearly there. Looks the most likely, I agree. So what next?”
“Find out who has a grudge against Jack Hickson. Speak to Paula, if you can. She respects you, and probably trusts you. She might well have the answer. Can you get down there straightaway?”
“I don’t need to,” Lois said. “I know who had a grudge. It was at the time Jack was given his cards. Another bloke was taunting him, and Jack fetched him one. It landed in a bad place, and he had to be treated in hospital. Is that grudge enough, d’you reckon?”
There was a silence, and then Cowgill said, “How long have you known this, Lois?”
She didn’t give him a straight answer, but muttered something about being sure she had told him at least some of it. Then she said that the urgent thing to do now would be to find out who it was. Paula had not given her the name of Jack Sr.’s tormentor at work. He had apparently refused to tell her, and his other workmates had decided to keep their mouths shut, too, thinking it would all pass over and be forgotten. That would be the best thing for Jack, they had agreed amongst themselves. The injured man had also been sacked when other redundancies had been necessary. Knowing he had been partly guilty for Jack’s attack, he too had said nothing more, but it was known that he had apparently blamed Jack for having to take sick leave and then finding himself out of work.
“Did Paula tell you all this?”
“Some of it,” Lois said. “The rest has emerged in dribs and drabs. I have not been idle, Cowgill, whatever you may think.”
Cowgill left it there. He said he would now contact the Parks and Gardens Department and see what they could tell him. There must be someone willing to talk.
“I’ll keep in touch, Lois,” he said. “And well done. All I would say, my dear, is that you could be in a dangerous position, knowing what you know. There is a man on the run somewhere, possibly desperate. If you could bring yourself to let me know any more dribs and drabs that might come your way, I would be most grateful.”
“Bollocks,” said Lois, and ended the call.
“I love you when you’re angry, Lois Meade,” Cowgill said to the dialling tone.
“What did you say, sir?” said Chris, coming in for her meeting with the boss.
“Never you mind,” said Cowgill. “It was a private call.”
FIFTY-ONE
IN NO TIME AT ALL, THE PARKS AND GARDENS DEPARTMENT OF the local authority had supplied Cowgill with the names and addresses of all those made redundant after Jack Hickson had left the department. No, they answered when he asked about a punch-up in the department, they had no knowledge of any such disturbance. In fact, they were quite put out by the suggestion. Good staff relations were a priority with the authority, they insisted.
Cowgill had handed the list to Chris, filled her in with details of Jack Sr.’s fight with a fellow gardener and asked her to do some legwork. “Go and see them all,” he’d instructed, “and don’t let them know you’re coming. This one will be a slippery eel, I suspect. Even a hint that we’re on to him will send him slithering off to a new hideaway. Meanwhile,” he added, as she prepared to leave his office with a bundle of papers, “I shall be out for the rest of the day. I need to have a chat with my most useful contact in all of this.”
“Of course. I’ll find you somewhere in Long Farnden, then?”
“Get going, Chris,” Cowgill said.
NEW BROOMS WEEKLY MEETING BROUGHT TO AN END LOIS’S WORK on setting down information and endeavoring to make sense of it. She felt she had cleared up some of the puzzles, but was not a lot nearer solving either of the priorities. We’re going round in circles, she had decided. There must be another way in. Who else might be sitting on useful clues without knowing it? After his second disappearance, Jack Hickson Sr. was obviously keeping his distance and was unlikely to reappear in the village. But she was sure he wouldn’t be far away. From what Paula had said lately, it was not impossible that she and Jack could get together again.
As for the other man, Lois was not so optimistic. The only hope of him being still around was that the grudge had not been settled. Or, she thought, as the first of her team rang the door bell, maybe it is not wholly his show. Maybe someone else is pulling the strings, and he’s just the puppet? Perhaps they should be looking at the whole thing as a network of connected motives?
“Oh, lor, it get’s worse!” she said aloud, as the door opened and Andrew looked in.
“Okay to convene, Mrs. M?” he said.
The rest of the team followed, and Lois welcomed them. “Let’s hope this week we can concentrate on our jobs, without the distraction of missing kids and the police crawling all over us,” she said. “Now, Hazel, shall we start with the list of new potential clients?”
“Twenty of ’em,” Hazel said flatly. The others stared at her. This was at least twice as many as usual for a weekly count. “Seems the village being in the news has brought in an influx of helpless housewives. I reckon, and Mrs. M agrees with me, that they’re all nosy blighters who think one of us would be good for a juicy gossip. Anyway, Mrs. M and me have been through the list, and sorted out four clients most likely to stay with us, gossip or no gossip.”
“Can we cope with that many extras?” Sheila Stratford said. She was now the acknowledged senior cleaner, having been there longer than anyone else, and she usually spoke for the rest.
“Yes, I think so,” said Lois. “I’ve been through schedules carefully, and with Paula being able to do a couple more hours, and Andrew not having any interior decor projects on at the moment, we can work things out. I may have to look for another member of the team later. We’ll see. If any of you would like some extra hours, let me know.”
