understandable.
Poppy had also realised she perhaps ought to have spoken out before. ‘I wasn’t really sure it was Gervase,’ she said earnestly. ‘The more I thought about it, I felt it couldn’t have been. So, in the end I decided it was probably just someone interested in the house. It’s a very desirable property. Or it
was
. It’s not now, of course.’ She sighed. ‘Goodness knows what Gervase will do with it now. Anyway, when the house caught fire, I started worrying about Gervase again, in case it
had
been him I saw that night a week or two earlier. He might have gone back and been there when the fire broke out. So, in the morning, while the fire engines were still at the house, and Roger was up there watching it all, I rang Serena Foscott.’
‘Serena Foscott, the solicitor’s wife?’ Jess asked in surprise.
‘Yes, and she told me Gervase was still in Portugal. So that put my mind at rest – and it was a big relief because the man I’d seen had looked so like him. It doesn’t explain whom it was I saw, if it wasn’t Gervase. That’s a mystery.’
‘Mrs Trenton,’ Jess asked, ‘may I ask why you rang Serena Foscott to find out where Mr Crown was?’
Poppy appeared mildly surprised at the question. ‘I asked Serena because her husband, Reggie, handles Gervase’s business in this country. He’d have known if Gervase had come over. But Serena told me Reggie hadn’t said anything about it and she thought he’d have told her.’
‘Forgive me keeping on about this,’ Jess continued, ‘but why would Mr Foscott tell his wife about a client’s movements and she pass it on to you?’
Poppy looked dismayed. ‘You make it sound so suspicious! Reggie wasn’t – or wouldn’t have been – breaking any confidences. He wouldn’t talk about Gervase’s business details, I’m sure! He’d never do anything so unprofessional. But he would have told his wife if he’d
seen
Gervase, or Gervase was in the country, because Serena Foscott is his cousin.’
‘Mrs Foscott is
Gervase Crown’s cousin
?’ Now Jess was startled.
‘Oh, yes, old local families, you know; they are all connected.’
Ian Carter will be interested to know that! thought Jess. I don’t think Reggie mentioned the relationship to him when they had their chat.
But Poppy was looking a little alarmed again, but this time staring past Jess. ‘Here’s Muriel,’ she said.
Jess turned and saw Muriel Pickering walking towards them in her yellow coat and trousers, this time with a matching yellow plastic hat jammed on her head. The pug plodded along beside her.
‘Ho!’ said Muriel, coming to a halt at Poppy’s front gate. ‘Got a visitor, have you?’ The words were addressed to Poppy but the speaker fixed Jess with her truculent gaze. ‘You’re the policewoman, the inspector. I saw you at the scene of the fire.’
‘You did, Mrs Pickering.’
‘Snooping around, are you?’ Muriel demanded ungraciously. ‘I suppose it’s what you’re paid to do. Asking questions and wanting to know everyone’s business.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Jess cheerfully. ‘That’s a fair description of a detective’s job.’
Her equanimity appeared to disconcert Muriel who sniffed loudly and squinted at Jess as if to see her better. Hamlet gave a little yelp of impatience.
‘Snooping,’ Muriel repeated eventually. ‘One of your chaps came to talk to me at home about Key House. Not that I could tell him anything. Hamlet didn’t take to him. He was very restless all the time the fellow was there. Hamlet is usually pretty good with visitors but he didn’t like your Sergeant Morton at all. He was being protective of me, you see. Dogs are very protective of their owners.’
Jess took another look at Hamlet, who returned her gaze with a low growl.
‘See?’ said his owner triumphantly. ‘Hamlet knows you’re a copper, not a friend or a normal visitor.’
‘Can I do anything else for you, Inspector Campbell?’ Poppy asked
Poppy had also realised she perhaps ought to have spoken out before. ‘I wasn’t really sure it was Gervase,’ she said earnestly. ‘The more I thought about it, I felt it couldn’t have been. So, in the end I decided it was probably just someone interested in the house. It’s a very desirable property. Or it
was
. It’s not now, of course.’ She sighed. ‘Goodness knows what Gervase will do with it now. Anyway, when the house caught fire, I started worrying about Gervase again, in case it
had
been him I saw that night a week or two earlier. He might have gone back and been there when the fire broke out. So, in the morning, while the fire engines were still at the house, and Roger was up there watching it all, I rang Serena Foscott.’
‘Serena Foscott, the solicitor’s wife?’ Jess asked in surprise.
‘Yes, and she told me Gervase was still in Portugal. So that put my mind at rest – and it was a big relief because the man I’d seen had looked so like him. It doesn’t explain whom it was I saw, if it wasn’t Gervase. That’s a mystery.’
‘Mrs Trenton,’ Jess asked, ‘may I ask why you rang Serena Foscott to find out where Mr Crown was?’
Poppy appeared mildly surprised at the question. ‘I asked Serena because her husband, Reggie, handles Gervase’s business in this country. He’d have known if Gervase had come over. But Serena told me Reggie hadn’t said anything about it and she thought he’d have told her.’
‘Forgive me keeping on about this,’ Jess continued, ‘but why would Mr Foscott tell his wife about a client’s movements and she pass it on to you?’
Poppy looked dismayed. ‘You make it sound so suspicious! Reggie wasn’t – or wouldn’t have been – breaking any confidences. He wouldn’t talk about Gervase’s business details, I’m sure! He’d never do anything so unprofessional. But he would have told his wife if he’d
seen
Gervase, or Gervase was in the country, because Serena Foscott is his cousin.’
‘Mrs Foscott is
Gervase Crown’s cousin
?’ Now Jess was startled.
‘Oh, yes, old local families, you know; they are all connected.’
Ian Carter will be interested to know that! thought Jess. I don’t think Reggie mentioned the relationship to him when they had their chat.
But Poppy was looking a little alarmed again, but this time staring past Jess. ‘Here’s Muriel,’ she said.
Jess turned and saw Muriel Pickering walking towards them in her yellow coat and trousers, this time with a matching yellow plastic hat jammed on her head. The pug plodded along beside her.
‘Ho!’ said Muriel, coming to a halt at Poppy’s front gate. ‘Got a visitor, have you?’ The words were addressed to Poppy but the speaker fixed Jess with her truculent gaze. ‘You’re the policewoman, the inspector. I saw you at the scene of the fire.’
‘You did, Mrs Pickering.’
‘Snooping around, are you?’ Muriel demanded ungraciously. ‘I suppose it’s what you’re paid to do. Asking questions and wanting to know everyone’s business.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Jess cheerfully. ‘That’s a fair description of a detective’s job.’
Her equanimity appeared to disconcert Muriel who sniffed loudly and squinted at Jess as if to see her better. Hamlet gave a little yelp of impatience.
‘Snooping,’ Muriel repeated eventually. ‘One of your chaps came to talk to me at home about Key House. Not that I could tell him anything. Hamlet didn’t take to him. He was very restless all the time the fellow was there. Hamlet is usually pretty good with visitors but he didn’t like your Sergeant Morton at all. He was being protective of me, you see. Dogs are very protective of their owners.’
Jess took another look at Hamlet, who returned her gaze with a low growl.
‘See?’ said his owner triumphantly. ‘Hamlet knows you’re a copper, not a friend or a normal visitor.’
‘Can I do anything else for you, Inspector Campbell?’ Poppy asked
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