that’s why I saw you there … all part of our brave boys in blue keeping an eye on things, making it safe for the good folk of Tresham?”
“All right, Lois,” Cowgill said, laughing. “Enough said, I think. Perhaps you’d just watch out for developments? Just in case? And report back, even if you do despise us for wasting time with harmless peccadilloes when we could be solving murders.”
“Peccadilloes?” said Lois. “Are they the latest in Fergus Forsyth’s stocklist? I must tell Derek. Yeah, well,” she added. “I’ll do what you say. Keep an eye, especially as the lovely Lady Mayoress is looking at old Cyril’s house in the village. Could be an interesting new customer for our Josie. Mind you, she don’t stock no peccadilloes.” Shedisconnected, glad to have given starchy old Hunter something to laugh at on a dull day.
I T WAS A MORNING FOR CLANDESTINE TELEPHONE CONVERSATIONS , though Daisy’s talk with Howard Jenkinson had not been exactly clandestine from her end. Rupert knew she would ring her old partner, but didn’t want to be there when she made the call. So as soon as he’d gone off to the shop, she dialled the Town Hall and asked to speak to Mr. Jenkinson. To her dismay, a woman’s voice answered. “Mayor’s Parlour,” said the cool voice. “Can I help you?”
“I wanted to speak to Mr. Jenkinson,” said Daisy firmly. She was not about to be intimidated by a mere secretary. “It’s personal.”
“May I have your name?” The cool voice was icier. It was Jean Slater, at her efficient best. “We have to be careful with security, you know,” she added. Who was this woman? One of Howard’s many ex-flutters? And why did she want to speak to him now?
“Just tell him I am his old friend Daisy.” That should be enough. And what business was it of this nosy female, anyway? Daisy had long experience of being discreet when needed. “He’ll not be pleased to have missed me, and I haven’t got all day, dear.” That should fix Miss Icicle.
It did. Jean decided this would be an entertaining one. “Call for you, Howard,” she said. “Your old friend Daisy. Nice to keep in touch with old friends, isn’t it?” She put him through before he could reply.
“What a coincidence!” he said heartily, as he heard Daisy’s voice. “I was thinking about you the other day. Remembering the fun we used to have! Ah, those were good old days.”
“Not so much of the old days,” said Daisy. “You’re still looking pretty chipper yourself, Howard. And I’m not looking so bad meself, though I says it as shouldn’t. Anyway,plenty of fun to be had, even if we do have a few wrinkles, you and I!”
Howard shifted in his Mayoral chair, a creaking leather-covered seat that looked very like a modest throne. “Glad to hear it,” he said encouragingly. “Now, what can I do for an old friend, Daisy?”
“It’s more what I can do for you,” she replied softly. “Any chance of you popping in here in Farnden one day soon? On your way to somewhere, perhaps? My Rupert’s out a lot at the moment, so he’ll be sorry to miss you, but I can make you very welcome …”
“Er, hem, yes, Daisy dear, I’m sure you can,” Howard said in a whisper. He could see the door between his parlour and Jean’s office was not quite shut. He’d better bring this conversation to a quick close.
But Daisy had not finished. “Of course,” she said, “it’d be really nice if you could do me a little favour in return for a warm, very warm, welcome?”
“Certainly. Nothing easier.” So that was it. The Forsyths were hard up and needed money. Business not doing so well? He couldn’t believe that. Anyway, better sign off straight away and find a way of calling in on her. Doreen had been keen he should look at the Farnden house, but he obviously couldn’t take her to the Forsyths! Maybe it could somehow be arranged. He assured Daisy that anything he could do to help would give him great pleasure. “For
“All right, Lois,” Cowgill said, laughing. “Enough said, I think. Perhaps you’d just watch out for developments? Just in case? And report back, even if you do despise us for wasting time with harmless peccadilloes when we could be solving murders.”
“Peccadilloes?” said Lois. “Are they the latest in Fergus Forsyth’s stocklist? I must tell Derek. Yeah, well,” she added. “I’ll do what you say. Keep an eye, especially as the lovely Lady Mayoress is looking at old Cyril’s house in the village. Could be an interesting new customer for our Josie. Mind you, she don’t stock no peccadilloes.” Shedisconnected, glad to have given starchy old Hunter something to laugh at on a dull day.
I T WAS A MORNING FOR CLANDESTINE TELEPHONE CONVERSATIONS , though Daisy’s talk with Howard Jenkinson had not been exactly clandestine from her end. Rupert knew she would ring her old partner, but didn’t want to be there when she made the call. So as soon as he’d gone off to the shop, she dialled the Town Hall and asked to speak to Mr. Jenkinson. To her dismay, a woman’s voice answered. “Mayor’s Parlour,” said the cool voice. “Can I help you?”
“I wanted to speak to Mr. Jenkinson,” said Daisy firmly. She was not about to be intimidated by a mere secretary. “It’s personal.”
“May I have your name?” The cool voice was icier. It was Jean Slater, at her efficient best. “We have to be careful with security, you know,” she added. Who was this woman? One of Howard’s many ex-flutters? And why did she want to speak to him now?
“Just tell him I am his old friend Daisy.” That should be enough. And what business was it of this nosy female, anyway? Daisy had long experience of being discreet when needed. “He’ll not be pleased to have missed me, and I haven’t got all day, dear.” That should fix Miss Icicle.
It did. Jean decided this would be an entertaining one. “Call for you, Howard,” she said. “Your old friend Daisy. Nice to keep in touch with old friends, isn’t it?” She put him through before he could reply.
“What a coincidence!” he said heartily, as he heard Daisy’s voice. “I was thinking about you the other day. Remembering the fun we used to have! Ah, those were good old days.”
“Not so much of the old days,” said Daisy. “You’re still looking pretty chipper yourself, Howard. And I’m not looking so bad meself, though I says it as shouldn’t. Anyway,plenty of fun to be had, even if we do have a few wrinkles, you and I!”
Howard shifted in his Mayoral chair, a creaking leather-covered seat that looked very like a modest throne. “Glad to hear it,” he said encouragingly. “Now, what can I do for an old friend, Daisy?”
“It’s more what I can do for you,” she replied softly. “Any chance of you popping in here in Farnden one day soon? On your way to somewhere, perhaps? My Rupert’s out a lot at the moment, so he’ll be sorry to miss you, but I can make you very welcome …”
“Er, hem, yes, Daisy dear, I’m sure you can,” Howard said in a whisper. He could see the door between his parlour and Jean’s office was not quite shut. He’d better bring this conversation to a quick close.
But Daisy had not finished. “Of course,” she said, “it’d be really nice if you could do me a little favour in return for a warm, very warm, welcome?”
“Certainly. Nothing easier.” So that was it. The Forsyths were hard up and needed money. Business not doing so well? He couldn’t believe that. Anyway, better sign off straight away and find a way of calling in on her. Doreen had been keen he should look at the Farnden house, but he obviously couldn’t take her to the Forsyths! Maybe it could somehow be arranged. He assured Daisy that anything he could do to help would give him great pleasure. “For
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