‘Adventure Dog to the rescue!’ his front paws hit the pavement, followed half a heartbeat later by his back paws. In the next second, he was leaping. The poor young man got hit from behind, Buster’s thick skull taking out his knees. The effect was much like watching a human version of an up-and-over garage door. One moment the young man had been an effective barrier stopping me from getting to the car. Now he was a groaning mess on the floor.
I stepped over him and started to get in. ‘Sorry about that,’ I offered. I held the door for Buster, expecting him to clamber in behind me as he had when we ran from John’s house, but he wasn’t there.
A pair of screams told me where he was.
He was chasing Vera and Violet.
I slammed the door shut and slapped the dashboard. ‘Go!’
Mindy needed no further encouragement, her car leaping away from the kerb and into traffic with yet another blare of horns.
The ladies from the charity shop were trying to get back there but their legs were not going fast enough. Even slow as he is – bulldogs are built for ambling not sprinting – he was going to catch them in the next three seconds.
Perhaps sensing how close he was, Vera abandoned her plan to get back to their shop and barrelled through the door to a local bank branch instead. Violet followed, but as we screeched to a stop again to collect Buster, the scene inside the bank was already one of absolute chaos.
The people inside thought the two old ladies brandishing weapons were there to rob the place! As I yelled for Buster to get his furry backside in the car, the alarm in the bank went off.
How much crazy could I fit into one day?
A lot more, as it turned out. A whole lot more.
Ninja Assistant
Now that I was dressed, I felt better prepared to carry on with what had become a desperate plight to prove my innocence. We were heading for Meopham again where I would find the Bleakwiths’ house and the surgery of their doctor.
I was guessing the last part. From my conversation with Joanne yesterday, I knew I wanted to find Dr Kimble. Joanne said he was Derek’s general practitioner which ought to mean he worked in the local doctors’ surgery. I knew where that was only because I had passed it a number of times.
Mindy pulled into a parking space and paused to think about what we needed to do next.
‘Do I still smell?’ I asked my niece.
Mindy pulled an awkward face. ‘Like the inside of a hippo’s bottom, Auntie.’
‘Got anything I can use to mask it?’ I enquired hoping she might have some perfume in her handbag.
She didn’t. A quick root around in her door bins and glove box produced only an air freshener.
It was going to have to do.
It was one of those cardboard ones that people hang from their rear-view mirror to keep their cars smelling nice. It was slightly moist from the liquid scent it was impregnated with. I took off the cellophane wrapper and rubbed it on my neck and hands.
‘Is that making much difference?’ I asked.
Mindy shot me a sorry look. ‘Now you smell like someone stuffed an air freshener up a hippo’s bum.’
That was quite enough of that. I was just going to have to smell.
Out of the car, I could already see I had guessed right. A plaque on the wall of the surgery boasted two doctors’ names and the first of them was Kimble.
‘What do we do with Buster?’ asked Mindy, holding his lead.
‘We take him in,’ I stated, striding toward the surgery’s main entrance.
Mindy questioned my judgement. ‘Will they let us?’
I was way past caring about the opinions of other people. ‘I’m not going to give them a choice.’
The surgery in the sleepy little village was as sleepy and quiet as one might expect. A small dispensary was on the right as we went in. It was closed for a two-hour lunch according to the sign on the outside.
Next, on the same side, was a reception and office area. I could see two women behind the glass, neither one looking excited to have someone approaching them. Beyond reception was a waiting area with several closed doors dotted around the periphery on three sides. The doors must lead to the doctors but there were no name plates to show which one might hide the man I was here to see.
One lonely old man sat reading a tatty old National Geographic magazine. He didn’t look up when we came in.
‘I’m here to see Dr Kimble,’ I announced as brightly and positively as I could.
My smile had zero impact on the sour face of the woman behind the glass. ‘Do you have an appointment?’ she wanted to know.
I kept my pleasant face on when I said, ‘It’s not a medical matter, but it is rather urgent. Dr Kimble will want to see me. If you could just let him know I am here about Derek Bleakwith.’
‘Without an appointment, you cannot see him. If this is a personal matter, you will need to contact him at home.’ The sour-faced woman’s colleague was on her feet and peering through the glass. She wasn’t looking at me though. Or at Mindy.
‘Here they’ve brought a dog in with them.’
Sour face jumped to her feet. ‘Right, that’s it. You need to leave right now.’
‘I am not leaving until I speak with Dr Kimble,’ I stated firmly. She was winding up to start getting excited, but I got in first. ‘He’s facing a malpractice claim,’ I lied. ‘You need to let him know I am here right now.’
I could have
