Granger just managed to keep the smile.
“We’ll have to have a chat about that later, Ralph. Best not mix work and pleasure.” It was all Ralph could do not to point out that it was not he who had brought up the subject.
Granger looked around as the VC, Marcel Ravaux, walked in with his wife.
“I’ll speak to you later Ralph,” he said as he propelled Ruth towards the VC. Never misses a chance, thought Ralph.
Suddenly it all became clear. Something had been simmering in his mind but he had not quite been able to put his finger on it. The near confrontation with Granger had tipped the balance. He would talk it over with Katie first, but the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that he wanted to take a year out on unpaid leave. He knew that a colleague had done it a few years back, and although he’d miss the paycheque, he had enough to tide him over. It was high time he made some changes in his life, and he may as well start now. He was just going over his plan when Katie rejoined him.
“It’s a fabulous house, Ralph. You must see it. There are at least five bedrooms upstairs as well as three more bathrooms, not counting the guest bathroom off the hall down here.”
“Are you trying to give me a hint?” Ralph joked.
“Of course not. We’ve got ours just right. I love my place in Chelsea. You’re settled in at your Surbiton apartment. Then we’ve got the cottage for our country escape. No I’m happy as things are. Aren’t you?”
“Cynthia and Lance are probably mortgaged up to the hilt,” he said as he caught a glimpse of Marcia who was moving their way. “Having to work just to pay for a life-style and all the trappings that go with living around here’s certainly not for me.” He decided that this was not the time or place to mention his epiphany moment to Katie; he wanted to think it through, first.
“Peter’s doing a great job on all those old tunes,” Katie said to Marcia when she joined them. “How are things, anyhow?”
“He’s in hog heaven,” Marcia agreed. “It’s so good to see you two. We must get you over to dinner before the time slips by and we’re all off in a thousand directions this summer.”
“I know. But tell me, how’s your modeling career? I’ll bet all the designers are beating a path to your door.”
“I don’t know about that, but I’ve just got a new job in New York. Peter’s not too happy as it will mean my going away again. He still wants to retire and get away to Devon or somewhere. But I think he’s happy that I have something to focus on. By the way, you two look great. Tell me all about what you’ve been up to.”
“Let’s go over where it’s a bit quieter so we can have a proper chat,” said Katie as she steered her friend a bit away from the crowd.
As the guests began to relax and the mingling slowed down, people seemed to notice the music more. The party mood took hold, and several couples began to dance. Ralph managed to prise Katie away from her chat with Marcia. The Victorians would have approved, Ralph mused, as he and Katie swirled and laughed to the beat of the quickstep music.
***
Ralph had taken a shower after his morning run and was buttoning his shirt while trying to switch on the coffee machine when the phone rang. Ralph had never managed to sort out ‘caller ID and he wondered who would be calling at 9 on a Saturday morning. He grabbed the phone.
“Ralph Chalmers.”
“Sorry to disturb you so early, Professor. Detective Inspector Fletcher, Devon and Cornwall CID.”
Ralph had a premonition that this would happen. “Inspector. No, that’s alright. I was just getting some breakfast. How can I help you?” He wondered if his response sounded overly familiar. Apart from seeing the Inspector at Barnstaple police station and one other time when he came to the cottage, he didn’t know the man.
“We’ve had a complaint, sir. I thought a quick call would help clear things up. We obtained your number from Doctor Tulle, as we knew she rented your cottage over at Clovelly.”
“A complaint about the cottage?” He knew he was being obtuse, but he needed time to think, and he didn’t like the way the Inspector kept saying ‘we’. The Inspector moved on.
“A Mr Bishop has made a formal complaint about a police officer harassing his daughter. He gave us a description of the officer and there was no match with anyone on the force who is assigned to that area. He said that the man drove a vintage Jaguar and had a London accent.” He paused. “Well it’s probably just a coincidence, but when we checked with the publican at a local pub, The Bell, over near Brayford, he also told us that someone had been making enquiries about Mr. Bishop’s daughter; he said that he thought someone had mentioned the name Ralph. If you’ll forgive me, sir. I recall your wife calling you Ralph when I was at your cottage in Clovelly. Anyhow, like I said, I hate to bother you like this, but I thought you might be able to clear this all up for me.”
Ralph remembered that when he had first met the Inspector he had thought him a typical local small town country policeman. He had underestimated the Detective Inspector.
Ralph explained that Ann Bishop had given him the photos and that he had posted them to Marian. He omitted the part about Ann being involved in attempted blackmail; he thought that she had
