“Don’t talk with your mouth full. That’s where Florence gets her bad habits from.”
***
When I arrived at Tweaking Manor, there was no sign of the police cars that had been there the day before. The fact that they’d left so soon was a sign that they didn’t suspect a crime had taken place.
I rang the doorbell and waited, but there was no response. I knocked with the same result, so I began to thump on the door. After a couple of minutes of non-stop thumping, I heard footsteps coming across the wooden floor. Moments later, the door opened and there stood Ransom.
“What do you want?” he snapped.
“I’d like to see Caroline, please.”
“You can’t. She’s in bed, resting, and she’s not seeing visitors.” He tried to close the door, but I’d already put my foot in the way. “Do you mind?”
“I’m not leaving until I’ve seen Caroline.”
“You look like waiting there all day, then. You’re not coming into this house ever again.”
“Either you step aside and let me see her or I talk to the police.”
“And tell them what, exactly?”
“I’ll think of something. Did you know my husband was a police officer?” I didn’t think it necessary to mention that Jack had in fact retired. “I’m sure he’ll take my concerns seriously.”
That clearly gave Ransom pause for thought. “Okay, you can see her, but only for a minute. Then you leave and you don’t come back. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Follow me.” He led the way across the hall, up the staircase, and along a corridor. “Caroline is in here. She’s asleep, so please don’t disturb her.”
He opened the door just wide enough for me to see inside. He clearly didn’t intend for me to go into the bedroom, but I had other ideas. Before he could stop me, I’d barged past him and made my way over to the four poster bed. Caroline looked several years older than when I’d seen her just the day before.
“Right. You’ve seen her now.” Ransom took my arm. “It’s time to leave.”
“No chance.” I brushed his hand away. “Caroline, it’s Jill Maxwell.”
Her eyes opened and she blinked a few times before she seemed to register my presence.
“Jill? What are you doing here?”
“I just called in to see how you are.”
“I’m okay.” She didn’t sound it. “Just a little tired. It must be all the upset with Mulgrave.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes, there’s no need for you to worry, I promise.”
“Okay, but if you need anything, give me a call.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Right,” Ransom said. “That’s enough. Come on.”
He couldn’t get me out of that house quickly enough. As I stepped outside, I turned to speak to him, but he slammed the door in my face.
***
When I arrived at the office, Mrs V was staring at her phone and shaking her head.
“What’s the matter, Mrs V?”
“How could someone do this, Jill? It’s plain wicked.”
“What’s happened?”
“Someone has whacked my YarnAgram account.”
“Whacked it? Oh, wait a minute. Do you mean they’ve hacked it?”
“Yes. Look what they’ve done.”
She handed me the phone, which was displaying the photos in her YarnAgram account. At first glance, it looked no different to the last time I’d seen it, but when I scrolled down, I came across a photo of an old pair of socks with holes in the toes. Then a jumper that had one sleeve much longer than the other.
“Where did these new photos come from, Mrs V?”
“I have no idea. I certainly didn’t knit those things. Scroll down a little further, there’s lots more like that. What will people think if they believe I’ve made those?”
“Do you have any idea who could have done this?”
“None at all. I’m seriously thinking of quitting YarnAgram altogether. This has got me quite upset.”
“I’m not surprised.” I handed back her phone.
I felt sorry for Mrs V, but there was nothing much I could do, other than to help her to submit an abuse report to YarnAgram. I wasn’t confident that anything would come of it.
Winky was on the sofa, whistling to himself, and looking very pleased with life.
“What have you got to be so happy about?”
“Do I need a reason? I’m just happy to be alive on this beautiful day.”
“Just a minute. Was it you? It was, wasn’t it?”
“Was what me?”
“Did you post those horrible photos to Mrs V’s YarnAgram account?”
“What on Earth is YarnAgram?”
“Don’t play the innocent. You know very well what it is.”
“I don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Someone has whacked, I mean hacked her account and posted photos of old socks on there.”
“And you think I did it?”
“Let’s just say you’re at the top of my suspect list.”
“That’s charming. Hang a cat without any evidence, why don’t you?”
“I intend to get to the bottom of this and if I find out you did it, there will be consequences.”
“And how exactly do you intend to do that? You aren’t exactly a computer wizard, are you?”
“No, but I—err—”
“I could find out who did it.”
“You? How?”
“I have my contacts.”
“Are you being serious?”
“Perfectly. Just say the word and I’ll give Nobby the Nerd a call. He’ll get to the bottom of it in no time.”
“You’d do that?”
“Yes. For a price.”
“I might have known. What do you want?”
“You have to raise the salmon ban with immediate effect.”
“Okay, but only when your friend has tracked down the culprit.”
“Deal. I’ll get straight on it.” He jumped onto the windowsill and disappeared out of the window.
***
When Hilary from Love Spell had told me that my date with Romeo was to be at Bar Loco, I’d envisaged a modern hipster joint where all kinds of crazy people
