justchased two men who were hiding in the top hedge,’ she panted. ‘They climbed over onto the railway line. One of them had a spade.’
Drew stared at her. ‘What did they want?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ she shouted. ‘How should I know? But they weren’t at all pleased when I spotted them.’
‘Damn it,’ Drew cursed. ‘This is getting ridiculous. Were they burying something or digging something up?’
‘Neither – because I interrupted them. But my guess is they’d come to dig something up. They didn’t leave anything behind, at any rate. Drew, we should tell the police.’
He wriggled his shoulders uncomfortably. ‘No, no, I don’t think so. It’s lucky you scared them off. I shouldn’t think they’ll come back again now. I’ll get Jeffery to do some work on that top hedge. I never imagined anybody would try to come in that way.’
Maggs snorted and slammed out of the office. Two minutes later she was back again. ‘There’s something in the cool room,’ she said, without preamble.
‘That’s right.’ He told her briefly about the dog people. She listened without comment, clearly wanting to move on to something else.
‘What did that woman want?’ she finally demanded. ‘She was here for ages .’
‘Confidential, I’m afraid,’ he told her.
The slam of the door made Stephanie whimper with the shock.
Willard was at home for lunch that day, but Genevieve made no effort to produce anything for him to eat. Uncomplaining, he made himself a generous Welsh rarebit, complete with dry mustard and Worcestershire sauce. Long experience deterred him from offering to make some for his wife. He carried it into the dining room and sat formally at the table to eat it.
Unusually, Genevieve came into the room, moving restlessly from sideboard to window, bookcase to mantelpiece, fiddling with ornaments and pausing at intervals, apparently deep in thought.
‘Is something the matter?’ he asked her, after a few minutes, casting a swift sideways glance at her face.
‘Sort of,’ she admitted. ‘I decided I ought to make an effort to find out where my mother is. We haven’t heard from her for ages now. There should at least have been a Christmas card. She hardly ever forgets Christmas. It bothers me that she doesn’t even know about this.’ She gestured in the direction of her swollen belly.
Willard sighed noisily, cutting a careful corner off his toast. ‘And how do you propose to locateher?’ he enquired. ‘You’d need to hire a private detective. The police wouldn’t be interested – she’s a grown woman.’
‘Funny you should say that,’ she murmured.
‘What?’
‘Look – you remember that couple – the Slocombes? The ones who beat us to the house in Bradbourne?’
His face darkened, and he fixed her with a hard stare. ‘How could I forget them?’
‘Well, he’s in North Staverton now, running his own alternative burial ground. You must have seen the piece about a body in the local rag—’
‘Get to the point, Genevieve. I want to finish my chapter this afternoon. I don’t get much opportunity for a good uninterrupted session these days.’
‘The point is, I think we ought to do what we can to find out whether the woman they found in North Staverton was my mother. No!’ She put up a hand to silence his attempted response. ‘Wait a minute. Just listen. He’s got experience of … situations like this. We know Drew Slocombe, and he owes us a favour. He’s ideally fixed to help us, and I’m pretty sure he’s not the type to go running to the police. In fact, I’m quite sure he’s not.’
‘So what have you asked him to do?’ Willard asked her wearily. ‘Put his whole career injeopardy by lying to the police for you? I can’t believe you’ve been such a fool. There’s no reason at all to think that body was your mother. She’s just gone off with some new boyfriend and forgotten all about you – just like she always did.’
‘That’s what I
Drew stared at her. ‘What did they want?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ she shouted. ‘How should I know? But they weren’t at all pleased when I spotted them.’
‘Damn it,’ Drew cursed. ‘This is getting ridiculous. Were they burying something or digging something up?’
‘Neither – because I interrupted them. But my guess is they’d come to dig something up. They didn’t leave anything behind, at any rate. Drew, we should tell the police.’
He wriggled his shoulders uncomfortably. ‘No, no, I don’t think so. It’s lucky you scared them off. I shouldn’t think they’ll come back again now. I’ll get Jeffery to do some work on that top hedge. I never imagined anybody would try to come in that way.’
Maggs snorted and slammed out of the office. Two minutes later she was back again. ‘There’s something in the cool room,’ she said, without preamble.
‘That’s right.’ He told her briefly about the dog people. She listened without comment, clearly wanting to move on to something else.
‘What did that woman want?’ she finally demanded. ‘She was here for ages .’
‘Confidential, I’m afraid,’ he told her.
The slam of the door made Stephanie whimper with the shock.
Willard was at home for lunch that day, but Genevieve made no effort to produce anything for him to eat. Uncomplaining, he made himself a generous Welsh rarebit, complete with dry mustard and Worcestershire sauce. Long experience deterred him from offering to make some for his wife. He carried it into the dining room and sat formally at the table to eat it.
Unusually, Genevieve came into the room, moving restlessly from sideboard to window, bookcase to mantelpiece, fiddling with ornaments and pausing at intervals, apparently deep in thought.
‘Is something the matter?’ he asked her, after a few minutes, casting a swift sideways glance at her face.
‘Sort of,’ she admitted. ‘I decided I ought to make an effort to find out where my mother is. We haven’t heard from her for ages now. There should at least have been a Christmas card. She hardly ever forgets Christmas. It bothers me that she doesn’t even know about this.’ She gestured in the direction of her swollen belly.
Willard sighed noisily, cutting a careful corner off his toast. ‘And how do you propose to locateher?’ he enquired. ‘You’d need to hire a private detective. The police wouldn’t be interested – she’s a grown woman.’
‘Funny you should say that,’ she murmured.
‘What?’
‘Look – you remember that couple – the Slocombes? The ones who beat us to the house in Bradbourne?’
His face darkened, and he fixed her with a hard stare. ‘How could I forget them?’
‘Well, he’s in North Staverton now, running his own alternative burial ground. You must have seen the piece about a body in the local rag—’
‘Get to the point, Genevieve. I want to finish my chapter this afternoon. I don’t get much opportunity for a good uninterrupted session these days.’
‘The point is, I think we ought to do what we can to find out whether the woman they found in North Staverton was my mother. No!’ She put up a hand to silence his attempted response. ‘Wait a minute. Just listen. He’s got experience of … situations like this. We know Drew Slocombe, and he owes us a favour. He’s ideally fixed to help us, and I’m pretty sure he’s not the type to go running to the police. In fact, I’m quite sure he’s not.’
‘So what have you asked him to do?’ Willard asked her wearily. ‘Put his whole career injeopardy by lying to the police for you? I can’t believe you’ve been such a fool. There’s no reason at all to think that body was your mother. She’s just gone off with some new boyfriend and forgotten all about you – just like she always did.’
‘That’s what I
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