Derek.
One of the men stood up and glared. “What d’ya want? This is private land.”
“But not yours,” Derek said bravely. Perhaps he could have a conversation with these men and gain some insight into the situation. He was soon disabused of that idea.
“Bugger off, before I set this ’ere dog on ya!”
The other man stood up, and the menacing threesome began to walk towards Derek. No point in being a hero, Derek convinced himself rapidly. He turned around and walked rapidly back towards his vehicle, uncomfortably aware of loud mocking laughter as he went.
GRAN AND LOIS WERE SITTING AT THE KITCHEN TABLE PORING over the local paper. “Look at this,” Lois said to Derek as he came in. “Somebody’s been putting pressure on our brave boys in the constabulary.”
Derek looked at the fuzzy photograph of a couple of lads with their faces shielded being escorted away from what looked very like Farnden playing field and bundled into a waiting police van. The headline, “Guilty of Highway Violence?” spread in large letters across the photograph, and the story beneath said that two young persons had been taken in for questioning in the case of Rob Wilkins, murdered on his way home to Long Farnden village.
“Cops wrong as usual, if you ask me,” Gran said. “It’s as clear as daylight them gypsies did it. It’ll be difficult sorting out which one. They all stick together like fish glue. But it certainly wasn’t those kids. One of them comes from a good home. His mother belongs to the WI.”
“That clinches it then,” said Lois acidly.
“Has Josie heard about this?” Derek said.
“We don’t know. Only just seen the story,” said Lois. “If she hasn’t heard nothin’, then it’ll take some explaining.” She gave Derek a kiss on the cheek. “Time I had a word with Cowgill,” she said.
Derek sighed and Gran frowned, but Lois ignored them and went off into her office to make the call.
THIRTEEN
HELLO, LOIS!” HUNTER COWGILL HAD A HARD DAY, AND HE brightened when he heard Lois’s voice. He motioned away the young policewoman who had just arrived in his office and signalled to her to shut the door as she went.
“I expect you’ll be able to explain,” said Lois without preliminaries.
“Explain what, my dear?”
“You know perfectly well. The story in the local. Two kids dragged away from the playing fields, suspected—”
“Not suspected of anything,” interrupted Cowgill briskly. “Merely taken along to the police station for questioning. Their parents were, of course, with us.”
“How come we didn’t know?” Lois had checked with Josie before telephoning Cowgill, and discovered that the first her daughter had heard of it was when she opened the local paper on the counter in the shop.
Cowgill did some rapid thinking. This was only a very early stage in questioning, and the newspaper as usual had made a meal of it. He would like to know who had tipped off the photographer. At the same time, the last thing he wanted to do was alienate Lois, his Lois, and he prepared to eat humble pie.
“I do apologise, my dear,” he said. “I should have had a reassuring word with Josie. And you know, Lois, I tell you everything in due course.”
There was silence from Lois. Cowgill was alarmed. He could not lose his contact with her, firstly from a professional point of view, and secondly, well, that as well.
“I’ll meet you at the shop at eight o’clock.” Lois said finally, looking at her watch. “You can clear up a few cases and still get there in time. Then you can fill us in with what’s been happening. ’Bye.”
She put down the phone, sadly aware that he had her over a barrel—inamanner of speaking. This crime had invaded her own family and there was no possibility of her giving up. Her usual weapon had lost its power this time. This time it was possible that she needed him more than he needed her. But nothing would induce her to admit it.
JOSIE SAW HER
One of the men stood up and glared. “What d’ya want? This is private land.”
“But not yours,” Derek said bravely. Perhaps he could have a conversation with these men and gain some insight into the situation. He was soon disabused of that idea.
“Bugger off, before I set this ’ere dog on ya!”
The other man stood up, and the menacing threesome began to walk towards Derek. No point in being a hero, Derek convinced himself rapidly. He turned around and walked rapidly back towards his vehicle, uncomfortably aware of loud mocking laughter as he went.
GRAN AND LOIS WERE SITTING AT THE KITCHEN TABLE PORING over the local paper. “Look at this,” Lois said to Derek as he came in. “Somebody’s been putting pressure on our brave boys in the constabulary.”
Derek looked at the fuzzy photograph of a couple of lads with their faces shielded being escorted away from what looked very like Farnden playing field and bundled into a waiting police van. The headline, “Guilty of Highway Violence?” spread in large letters across the photograph, and the story beneath said that two young persons had been taken in for questioning in the case of Rob Wilkins, murdered on his way home to Long Farnden village.
“Cops wrong as usual, if you ask me,” Gran said. “It’s as clear as daylight them gypsies did it. It’ll be difficult sorting out which one. They all stick together like fish glue. But it certainly wasn’t those kids. One of them comes from a good home. His mother belongs to the WI.”
“That clinches it then,” said Lois acidly.
“Has Josie heard about this?” Derek said.
“We don’t know. Only just seen the story,” said Lois. “If she hasn’t heard nothin’, then it’ll take some explaining.” She gave Derek a kiss on the cheek. “Time I had a word with Cowgill,” she said.
Derek sighed and Gran frowned, but Lois ignored them and went off into her office to make the call.
THIRTEEN
HELLO, LOIS!” HUNTER COWGILL HAD A HARD DAY, AND HE brightened when he heard Lois’s voice. He motioned away the young policewoman who had just arrived in his office and signalled to her to shut the door as she went.
“I expect you’ll be able to explain,” said Lois without preliminaries.
“Explain what, my dear?”
“You know perfectly well. The story in the local. Two kids dragged away from the playing fields, suspected—”
“Not suspected of anything,” interrupted Cowgill briskly. “Merely taken along to the police station for questioning. Their parents were, of course, with us.”
“How come we didn’t know?” Lois had checked with Josie before telephoning Cowgill, and discovered that the first her daughter had heard of it was when she opened the local paper on the counter in the shop.
Cowgill did some rapid thinking. This was only a very early stage in questioning, and the newspaper as usual had made a meal of it. He would like to know who had tipped off the photographer. At the same time, the last thing he wanted to do was alienate Lois, his Lois, and he prepared to eat humble pie.
“I do apologise, my dear,” he said. “I should have had a reassuring word with Josie. And you know, Lois, I tell you everything in due course.”
There was silence from Lois. Cowgill was alarmed. He could not lose his contact with her, firstly from a professional point of view, and secondly, well, that as well.
“I’ll meet you at the shop at eight o’clock.” Lois said finally, looking at her watch. “You can clear up a few cases and still get there in time. Then you can fill us in with what’s been happening. ’Bye.”
She put down the phone, sadly aware that he had her over a barrel—inamanner of speaking. This crime had invaded her own family and there was no possibility of her giving up. Her usual weapon had lost its power this time. This time it was possible that she needed him more than he needed her. But nothing would induce her to admit it.
JOSIE SAW HER
Similar Books
