“They didn’t dig deep enough to find the right people to interview,” said Suzie. “That was because Wightman couldn’t accept it wasn’t a bloke that did it. She hates every man that’s still breathing.”
“What, even Matt Price? They stayed together as a team for several years. Why didn’t she kick him into touch and get another man-hater as her sidekick? Anyway, where is she stationed these days?”
“Gablecross,” said Suzie, “DCI Billie Wightman moved into Major Incident Planning a couple of years back after her promotion. DI Matt Price went to Portishead with Avon and Somerset Police. I know a few officers over there, and they tell me that Matt Price has a permanent smile on his face these days.”
“Glad to hear it. I always reckoned Matt was a good copper. Thanks for the heads up. I know where to find both of them if we need their insight.”
“It might be best to ignore one of them,” said Suzie.
She opened the fridge door.
“What did you think when you looked in here earlier?”
“That we’re spoilt for choice,” said Gus. “How did you know I looked?”
“I’m a detective,” Suzie replied. “The cheese isn’t on top of the lamb steaks where I left it this morning.”
“Have you decided what we’re having yet?” Gus asked. “I’ll crack on with cooking whatever you fancy while you shower and change.”
“Don’t bother,” said Suzie. “Order a pizza. It will arrive by the time I’ve finished getting ready. After we’ve devoured that, we’ll go to the Lamb. An evening in the beer garden with a cold drink is in order, whether it’s alcoholic or not.”
Gus tried to think of an objection but failed.
The couple strolled along the lane arm-in-arm to the pub at half-past seven. They would have made it earlier, but Suzie explained how to decode all the symbols on the TV remote control.
“I hope this isn’t going in one ear and out of the other,” she said.
“So do I,” said Gus. “When I finally retire, I need to be confident I can watch the few programmes I enjoy without outside assistance.”
“Did you want to drop by the allotment first before we go inside?” asked Suzie.
“We did enough yesterday afternoon to keep everything alive for forty-eight hours,” said Gus. “If this case doesn’t drag me away, I’ll spend an hour on the allotment on Wednesday evening. Anyway, I think I can hear Bert Penman’s voice.”
The retired butcher perched on his usual stool at the bar. A glance at the pint pot of cider beside him told Gus that one swallow would finish the job.
“Same again, Bert?” he asked.
“I’m not one to mix my drinks, Mr Freeman. You should know me well enough by now.”
Gus ordered drinks for him and Suzie. The barman waited the two seconds while Bert emptied his glass and poured him a fresh pint.
“Your cider is a beautiful golden colour this year,” said Suzie, “and so clear.”
“I’ve learned my lesson over the years, Miss Ferris,” said Bert. “In the old days, I drank the rough cider they kept in barrels behind the bar. One evening, I studied the wooden floor under the spigot. The steady drip had eaten away the oak floorboard and left a shallow crater. I had nightmares over what those cloudy pints of almost orange liquid were doing to my insides. I can’t say I approve of all the changes that have occurred in this pub over the past sixty years, but today’s cider is far healthier than the stuff they served here back then.”
“You still need to take care how much of it you consume, Bert,” said Gus. “The Reverend tells us they needed to help you home the other night.”
“I had things on my mind, Mr Freeman,” said Bert.
“Irene North, no doubt,” said Suzie. “Why don’t you two agree to live under the same roof?”
Bert Penman took a sip of his fresh pint.
“What, live over the brush like you and Mr Freeman? What would people think?”
“Who cares? We don’t, so why should you? You both live alone in houses that are too big for you. You’ve got double the heating costs and council tax. Even if it’s more for companionship than for love, it still makes sense. You would be there for Irene if she had another funny turn like she did last week and vice versa.”
“Brett shared the house with you for several weeks while he sorted out his work situation,” said Gus. “I know it would put his mind at rest if he knew you had someone close by, day and night.”
“Brett asked while he stayed with me if I’d thought of going into a home,” said Bert with a shiver. “I can’t think of anything worse. I hope to keep working on my allotment, having a cider at the end of a busy day, and if I turn up my toes before I get a card from the Queen, so be it. Whenever that happens, I’ll be in my own home.”
“We’re going to sit in the garden for a while, Bert,” said Suzie. “Do you want to join us?”
“That’s very sociable of you, Miss Ferris,” said Bert, “but I promised Irene I’d drop by to visit on my way home. I’ll sit here and finish this pint, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“I plan on working on my allotment on Wednesday evening, Bert,” said Gus. “Perhaps we’ll catch up with you both then.”
“Fair enough,” said Bert. “If you’re still outside enjoying the sunshine until nine o’clock, I reckon the Reverend will be popping in for a quiet drink with my grandson. They’re
