Scoop, p.23
Scoop!, page 23
“Is that all?” she scowled. “How can I buy a new coat?”
“I have to put some by, Sadie dear.” Mrs. Evans looked up and saw me standing in the doorway. “Oh, here’s Vicky.”
Sadie swiftly scooped the notes off the table and into her lap. Did she honestly think I hadn’t seen her?
“Hello, Vicky.” Her voice sounded challenging, sullen.
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “Happy Birthday, Mrs. E.” I handed her my gift, quickly purchased from This-And-That Emporium at the bottom of the High Street.
“You shouldn’t have bought me a present.” Mrs. Evans beamed. “Fancy that, Sadie. Vicky’s bought me a present.”
“Unwrap it, then,” Sadie snapped. “What are you waiting for, Christmas?”
Mrs. Evans’s fingers struggled to undo the string. The owner of This-And-That Emporium was also Brown Owl to Gipping’s Brownie Pack and an expert at knots.
“I’ll help you.” This was where my Girl Guide training came in handy. It was only a simple reef knot.
“It’s a rabbit!” Mrs. Evans cried. “Look! It’s even wearing a waistcoat.”
“For your woodland collection,” I said.
Seeing Sadie sneer, I hoped we could just cut the cake and I could leave. I was having second thoughts about asking Sadie about Wendy, let alone mentioning Steve.
“Sadie bought me something for my woodland collection, too.” Mrs. Evans gestured to the countertop. I gave a start of surprise. The gnome wore a yellow cap and matching trousers. “I’m told it’s the very latest style in gnomes.”
“Very nice.” I thought the Kellands only sold to trade. “Did you buy that locally?”
“What’s it to you?” Sadie said. “Where’s the cake, Mum? It had better be chocolate.”
“I’ll get it.” Mrs. Evans got to her feet.
“Sit down, Mrs. E.,” I said firmly. “It’s your birthday. Where is it?”
“In the walk-in pantry,” Sadie said, inspecting her nails. I was surprised to see them bitten down to the quick.
The pantry was lined with shelves packed with emergency staples like canned soup and sardines. The cake was homemade. As a connoisseur of homemade cakes, it looked nice and moist, if a little lop-sided. I found a packet of birthday candles and a box of matches.
“Where’s Dad?” I overheard Sadie ask.
“In the garden shed. He won’t be in until five.”
“Five?” Sadie sounded disappointed. “But I’ve got to get back to Plymouth. Didn’t you tell him I was here?”
“Oh, Sadie luv, he’ll come around. Give it time.”
Mrs. Evans had never spoken of their falling out, but I realized that underneath all Sadie’s bravado, she must be devastated. Even though my dad was still upset with me over the silver business, I knew he’d never refuse to see me.
I made a decision to try and show Sadie kindness. I got on quite well with her dad. She probably felt threatened by me. After all, I was sleeping in her bedroom.
I lit the candles and carried the cake back to the kitchen. “Come on, Sadie, let’s sing.”
We belted out “Happy Birthday to you!” Sadie made a supreme effort to sing louder than me, but she had a good voice so I didn’t mind.
“My girls, my girls.” Mrs. Evans looked as if she was going to burst into tears of joy. “I’m so happy you two are going to be friends.”
I gave Sadie a big smile, but she scowled. “Mum told me about you and Steve,” she said bluntly.
Blast Mrs. Evans! “Nothing happened between us.” I felt flustered. No matter the circumstances, no woman likes her successor. “I swear I had nothing to do with his accident.”
“It wasn’t an accident, though, was it? Mum said someone tried to poison Steve with a nut cutlet. Did you know he was allergic to nuts?”
“He told me,” I looked to Mrs. Evans for help, but she was focused on cutting the cake. “I think it was common knowledge. I mean, you knew didn’t you?”
“Me? Me!” Sadie was outraged. “What’s that supposed to mean? I was working. Saturday nights are a big night down at the Banana Club—”
“And Sadie’s been promoted to a cage,” chipped in Mrs. Evans.
“What about you?” Sadie said. “Where were you on Saturday night?”
“I don’t think it’s any of your business,” I said hotly.
“Oh, please don’t spoil my birthday.” Mrs. Evans’s dentures clicked into overdrive. “Sadie. Vicky. My girls!”
“Mum said the cops want to talk to you,” Sadie said. “Why would they want to do that?”
“I’m an investigative reporter,” I said with a sniff. “I often help the police with their inquiries.”
“Bully for you.” Sadie sneered.
“Maybe they should be asking to talk to Wendy,” I said. “I believe she’s a friend of yours.”
“Wendy?” Sadie looked blank. “Who the hell is Wendy? Oh. Wait.” She began to laugh. “Yeah. You’re right. The cops should definitely talk to her.”
“Do you have her phone number?”
“I can probably find it,” Sadie said with a grin. “Sorry I got all bent out of shape, Vicky. Thing is, I’m still very fond of Steve. He just can’t stay faithful. Any more tea in that pot, Mum?”
“I’ll make a fresh one.”
It was slowly dawning on me that Sadie might have had something to do with Steve’s “accident.” She seemed the kind of woman who picked up and discarded men like old socks but felt they were still her property. She definitely knew about his nut allergy. She also didn’t seem too upset about the fact he was fighting for his life in Gipping Hospital.
Suddenly the sound of Westminster Chimes drifted into the kitchen.
“There’s someone at the front door,” said Sadie. “Why don’t you go and see who it is, Vicky?”
“Perhaps it’s the postman?” Mrs. Evans cried. “It’ll be the four o’clock delivery. I’m expecting a birthday card from my sister.”
I did as I was told, but it wasn’t the postman. It was Detective Constable Colin Probes.
“Good afternoon, Vicky,” he said with a smile. “And so we meet again.”
39
It had been months since I’d seen the redheaded copper. He looked different somehow, probably because his new position working with Plymouth’s Drug Action Team meant he was no longer in uniform. Today, Probes wore a Columbo-style raincoat with the collar turned up.
The moment Sadie realized there was a policeman standing at the door she insisted she take her mother into town to buy a lottery ticket. I’d always suspected Sadie’s “work” at the Banana Club a little dubious. No doubt she got skittish when she heard the word police. It was usually followed by the cry, “It’s a raid!”
I offered to make Probes a cuppa in the kitchen, but he declined. “I’ve been drinking a lot of tea today,” he said. “Been asking many questions.”
I started to feel the usual nerves and reminded myself I had absolutely nothing to hide, but wait, of course I did. My whole life was a lie.
“I read your exclusive in the Gipping Gazette last Saturday,” Probes said. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”
“Oh, thank you.” I was taken aback. “I heard you got a promotion. Congratulations.”
“That’s why I’m here.” He gestured to the kitchen table. “Shall we sit?”
The remains of Mrs. Evans’s birthday tea were in evidence.
“Is this about Steve Burrows?” I said. “Mrs. Evans told me about his near-fatal accident with a nut cutlet.”
“It was a chocolate brownie,” Probes said. “I take it our agreement of providing each other with information still stands?”
I blanched, but nodded all the same. I’d hoped he’d forgotten that little arrangement. If Dad ever found out, I could forget using my VIP Eurostar ticket forever.
“Good,” Probes said. “Were you and Steve close?”
“No. Just good friends.”
“No matter.” Probes took a deep breath. “Steve Burrows was working for us undercover.”
“What?” I shrieked. “Steve? Are we talking about the same person? The paramedic?” The idea was ridiculous!
“We have reason to suspect there is a drug ring in Gipping,” Probes said coldly.
I laughed. “A drug ring?” Steve Burrows had been leading the Devon and Cornwall Police Constabulary up the garden path—and been paid for it. No wonder he seemed to have cash to burn.
“I don’t know what’s so funny.”
The police could be so incompetent! “Feelin’ Frisky?” I said.
“I beg your pardon. I’m on duty.” Probes turned bright red.
I had a good mind to let them run with their silly drug story. “It’s a harmless mixture of Chinese Ginseng, caffeine, and lemon sherbet,” I said. “I’ve got tons upstairs. You can try some if you like.”
Probes face darkened. “Attempted murder is not a laughing matter. We’ve got Steve Burrows under police protection at Gipping Hospital. Hopefully he’ll pull through.”
I studied Probes’s face for signs of amusement, but found none. He seemed deadly serious.
Probes withdrew a small spiral-bound notebook out of his raincoat. My heart plunged into my boots.
He licked his pencil. “Where were you on Saturday night?”
“Out with a friend.”
“Steve phoned you. What did he say?”
“I couldn’t answer. I was too busy with my friend.”
“Can your friend verify this?” Probes said. “And it’s no good asking Ethel-Topaz, whatever she wants to call herself, to cover for you. I’ve already spoken to her.”
I shrugged, opened my mouth, and shut it again. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“Your number was the last one Steve dialed before he ate that brownie. We know this because we have his mobile phone.”
“Surely you can’t think I had anything to do with it?” I said hotly.
“You had every motive, Vicky.” Probes shook his head with what looked like genuine sorrow. “Miss Hilda Hicks in flat two said she’d seen you with Steve on Tuesday evening. She also mentioned you’d been—I quote—‘skulking’ around at midnight on Thursday night. Albert, at the Three Tuns, said you were openly flaunting your other boyfriends in front of Steve on Wednesday.”
“That was business,” I cried. “I had to interview Lieutenant Robin Berry about his dead father, and Dave Randall just wanted to talk to me about hedges. I am a professional newspaper reporter, you know.”
Probes merely grunted and carried on. “Mr. Patel, the proprietor of The Lali-Poo Curry House said you were, I quote—‘having relationship problems’—and had even asked him for advice. Then of course, there is Mrs. Evans.”
“Mrs. Evans?”
Probes gave a heavy sigh. “She said you had been extremely upset about Annabel Lake. You said, I quote—‘she’s trying to steal my boyfriend. I don’t know what to do.’ ”
“Mrs. Evans was confused,” I said. “Anyway, I don’t have a motive.”
“The French call it crime passionel,” Probes said smoothly. “Crime of pass—”
“I know what it means,” I snapped. “I wasn’t the only woman Steve was seeing.”
“Annabel Lake had an alibi. She was with Dr. Frost on Saturday night.”
“And Sadie Evans?”
“We’ll check the Banana Club, of course, but Mrs. Evans said Sadie had broken his heart—hardly a woman scorned.”
I had to admit Sadie hadn’t seemed too bothered. Despite claiming she was still fond of him, there had been no mention of a hospital visit. Even I planned to take Steve a bunch of grapes when—God willing—he recovered.
“Steve mentioned a Wendy. What about her?”
Probes frowned. “Name doesn’t mean anything. But I’ll ask around.”
All this fuss for some lemon sherbet! What a waste of taxpayers’ money. “So am I really a suspect?”
“You said you had an alibi. So why worry?” Probes smiled and got to his feet. His dimples were quite charming. “Cannabis is a serious business, Vicky.”
I thought I had misheard. “Cannabis?”
“Ashes, Bammy, Hooch, Muggie, Spliff. Wacky Tobaccky,” Probes said. “I’m only telling you this because of our arrangement.”
“Of course.” My heart was thundering in my chest. My God! Cannabis. Real drugs. Was this the lead that Annabel had been hinting at all this time? How could I have been so wrong?
“It’s even harder to catch the growers these days,” Probes went on. “They need very little to cultivate a crop. Overhead lights, fans, and plant pots. Anywhere there is a reliable supply of electricity.”
They’ll be lucky to find a reliable supply in Gipping.
“These growers use high-intensity lamps, which consume enormous amounts of electricity. They’re even known to steal it from other sources.”
It was as if a light—no pun intended—went on in my head. Could this be the reason for Gipping’s ongoing power problems?
“Keep your eyes open on your travels, Vicky,” Probes said. “Look out for telltale signs. Covered windows, black bin liners, bags of fertilizer, that kind of thing. It’s a farming community around here. The ideal place to hide a crop.”
No wonder Annabel had wanted to personally deliver those flyers to all the farmers in Gipping!
“I’m always happy to help the police,” I said. “Please keep in touch.” Naturally, I had no intention of doing the same.
After promising to firm up my alibi, Probes said, “I’m only doing my job, Vicky.” I escorted Probes to the door and bid him good-bye. Our hands touched the doorknob at the same time, giving me an unexpected thrill. It was such a pity he was a policeman.
I left the house shortly afterward. I didn’t want to explain Probes’s visit to Mrs. Evans and Sadie when they returned home.
I wanted to see Topaz. Since Probes had already spoken to her, maybe she’d been privy to some extra-secret information about Steve Burrows that he hadn’t wanted to tell me? After all, blood is thicker than water.
I still found it hard to believe Steve was an informer. What on earth would possess him to work for the police? What if he died? Probes would have to launch a full-scale inquiry. With over 4.2 million CCTV cameras in London, it wouldn’t take him long to discover my visit to London Paddington and Chuffy McSnatch.
I parked my moped in the alley behind The Copper Kettle and marched round to the café entrance.
On seeing me outside, Topaz darted out into the High Street and grabbed me jumping up and down with excitement. Unfortunately, Tony was just walking out of the Gazette and saw our “public display of affection.”
“Oh!” Topaz squealed. “You’ll never guess what’s just happened!”
40
Topaz propelled me to my usual table with the good view of the High Street and sat me down. The café was empty. “I just couldn’t believe my eyes!”
“I was surprised to see him in Gipping, too,” I said.
“Him?” Topaz frowned.
“Your cousin, Colin.”
“Oh him,” Topaz said dismissively. “He asked if he could stay in my spare room, but I’ve heard that one before.”
“He probably wanted to talk to you about a big case,” I said pointedly.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “The only reason Colin’s here is because he wants us to get back together now I’ve inherited The Grange.”
“Did he tell you that?” Topaz was delusional but even so, I felt a stab of jealousy.
“He didn’t have to,” she cried. “I just know these things—Vicky, please listen!”
“Go on,” I sighed. Topaz was worse than useless as an informer. “Tell me.”
“I just saw Sadie Evans!”
“I know. It’s her mother’s birthday today. As a matter of fact, we’ve just had cake.”
“No. She was with my new tenant, Victor Kelland!”
“You probably did.” Why was Topaz so dramatic? “Sadie bought one of his gnomes for her mother’s birthday.”
“Ten minutes ago?”
“What do you mean?” A peculiar feeling began to form in my stomach.
“Oh yes.” Topaz nodded. “They sat over there.” She pointed to where the table had not been cleared.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Wasn’t Mrs. Evans with them?”
Topaz shook her head. “It was funny because neither of them know who I really am, so I grabbed a broom and started sweeping up around the table.”
“How do you know it was Sadie Evans?” Sadie hardly moved in the same social circle as Ethel Turberville-Spat.
“Of course it was her,” Topaz said with scorn. “I haven’t seen her for ages, but I never forget a face.”
“And you met her how—?”
“Mrs. Evans used to clean The Grange, remember? In the school holidays she’d always bring Sadie with her and we were forced to play together. Sadie was a horrid person. Always stealing my things.”
I felt confused. How did Victor Kelland know Sadie? Perhaps he was a frequent visitor at the Banana Club on Plymouth Hoe. “Did you hear what they were talking about?”
“Not really. Their heads were close together. They looked worried. He swore and said something about nuts. She got angry, said, ‘I didn’t know,’ and stormed off. It was frightfully exciting.”
Maybe Sadie was more upset about Steve’s accident than she let on and was confiding to one of her punters? I knew I’d heard something of vital importance, but what it could be eluded me. Perplexed, I stared out of the window at the afternoon traffic crawling by.
“I say, isn’t today your day off?” Topaz said coyly. She reached out across the table and touched my arm just as Ronnie Binns’s dustcart—GIPPING COUNTY COUNCIL: REFUSE WE WON’T REFUSE—drew alongside.
I gave a gasp of dismay. Annabel was sitting in the passenger seat of Ronnie’s cab, wearing a surgical mask. Our eyes locked. Hers widened as Topaz began to stroke my arm. “It was fun the other night, wasn’t it?”
I pushed Topaz away. Blast! No doubt Annabel and Tony would have a great laugh at my expense over tea today. But wait! Annabel was not only Riding Along with Ronnie, she was doing it on her day off! Annabel looked away. The dustcart rolled on by.
