The Patrone Case (A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Novella Book 16) Read online

  “Unless one of the candidates thought that it would be useful to make extra work for William,” Robert suggested. “Maybe he or she thought that having a broken window would make William rush to hire someone immediately, maybe without checking references, for instance.”

  “That could be any of them,” Janet said. “Although I suspect Bradley Austin wanted his references checked the least.”

  “Tell me about all three people you and William spoke with yesterday,” Robert said.

  Janet told him everything she could remember about the three interviews. When she was done, she shook her head. “I told Joan this morning that I wouldn’t want to hire any of them,” she concluded.

  “William said much the same thing,” Robert replied. “He said he’d rather just do the work himself than trust his business to any of those three.”

  “Do you think one of them was behind the brick through his window?” Joan asked.

  “At this point, it seems unlikely, really. I’m inclined to think that the attack was completely random. It might have been someone young who wasn’t thinking or someone older who had been drinking, maybe. There are many possibilities, and I’m afraid it won’t be easy to find the right solution.”

  “Are there any security cameras in the area?” Janet asked.

  “There are a few. Owen Carter in the chemist’s shop has one pointed towards his door, and the council has a few aimed at the car park. Unfortunately, none of them seem to have recorded the right area last night.”

  “The vandal was lucky.”

  “Or smart,” Robert said. “The cameras are all visible, aside from the one in Owen’s shop. It doesn’t take much effort to avoid the car park ones, really.”

  “Was the vandal on foot, then? If he or she had a car, wouldn’t he or she have had to drive past a camera or two?” was Janet’s next question. As she asked it, she tried to picture the car park. She’d never noticed any cameras there, but then she’d also never worried about avoiding such things.

  “The vandal might have parked a short distance away and walked over,” Robert said. “He or she didn’t park in the car park for the shops, anyway. You’re right; the cameras would have picked up the car if it had been parked in that car park.”

  “That makes it sound a good deal more deliberate or planned,” Janet speculated.

  “It may have been, or not,” Robert shrugged. “I’m going to go and have a little chat with a few people who have been known to cause trouble in the past. I’m going to make a point of talking to the three people you and William interviewed yesterday as well.”

  “Imagine going for a job interview and ending up being interviewed by the police,” Janet said.

  “I’m hoping one or more of them might have seen something that will help, actually,” Robert replied. “As far as William could remember, none of them had ever been in the antique shop before. Sometimes people are more observant in new surroundings.”

  “What are you hoping they observed?” Janet wondered.

  “Anyone seemingly hanging around the area for no obvious reason, for a start,” Robert explained. “I’m also curious how many of them noticed the bricks.”

  “There was a small pile of them just by the coffee shop,” Janet told him. “I assumed they were there as part of some renovations at the coffee shop, even though I haven’t actually seen any signs of any renovations happening.”

  “It’s interesting you say that,” Robert told her. “The owners of the coffee shop told me that they never ordered the bricks. They were simply there when they came to work one morning. They told me that they just left them there, assuming someone would come and claim them eventually.”

  “Can you track down who ordered them or from where they were ordered?” Joan wondered.

  “I’m going to try, but apparently they’ve been there for several weeks now. I suspect they were dumped there by someone who was too lazy to take them where they should have gone.”

  “People are odd,” Janet laughed.

  “I see a lot of that in my job,” Robert agreed.

  Janet and Joan walked Robert to the door a short time later.

  “Thank you for your time,” he said before he headed out.

  “Do you want to go and help William with his inventory, then?” Joan asked as Janet shut the door behind Robert.

  “I was thinking I might,” Janet admitted, “but we have guests arriving today, don’t we?”

  “I believe Mr. and Mrs. Morris will be here later today, but Mrs. Morris told me they wouldn’t be leaving Liverpool until after her husband finished work for the day, so I don’t expect them until late.”

  “It will probably take them two or three hours to get here from Liverpool,” Janet said. “I hope they don’t leave too much after five.”

  “Anyway, their room is ready for whenever they get here,” Joan told her. “I made up both guest rooms yesterday, even though Mr. and Mrs. Gorham aren’t due until tomorrow morning.”

  “Any idea why either couple is coming here at this time of year?”

  “Believe it or not, both couples are coming for an art exhibit in Derby,” Joan told her. “I don’t believe they know one another, as the Gorhams are from Dover, but Mrs. Gorham and Mrs. Morris both told me far more than I wanted to know about the exhibit.”

  “Maybe we should go, too,” Janet suggested.

  Joan shrugged. “It’s on next weekend as well. Maybe we should go when we don’t have any guests.”

  Chapter 5

  With Doveby House ready for its guests and Joan happily baking in the kitchen, Janet headed into Doveby Dale to see if William needed any help with his inventory.

  “That’s very kind of you,” he told her after he’d greeted her with a warm hug, “but I’m nearly finished. After the last time we had to do this, I’ve made myself be far cleverer about the whole process.”

  Janet nodded. “When will someone be able to repair the window?” she asked, trying not stare at the ugly wooden panel that now covered a large section of the shop’s frontage.

  “Robert is still writing up the police report. Once that’s done, I can submit it to my insurance and they’ll make all of the necessary arrangements,” William explained. “They already sent the crew that came this morning and cleaned up the mess.”

  “I did wonder how you cleared away all the broken glass so quickly.”

  “I didn’t do anything. The insurance company sent six people to deal with it, and they had the window boarded up and the broken glass cleared away in less than a hour.”

  “That seems very efficient.”

  “I pay a lot of money for very good insurance for a reason,” William told her. “The company will be sending a loss adjuster later to look over the pieces that were damaged to work out their value with the damage. I expect to get a cheque to cover the difference between what they were worth before and what I might be able to get for them now.”

  “Anything I might like at a bargain price?” Janet asked.

  “Everything is in the back room. Go and have a look,” he suggested.

  It didn’t take Janet long to go through the items.

  “Nothing?” William asked as she rejoined him.

  “I suppose I’m rather spoiled, living in Doveby House,” she laughed. “We have such beautiful antiques in every room.”

  “If you ever decide to sell the house, let me buy the furnishings. I’ll give you a fair deal, and I’d love to get my hands on a few things for myself, as well.”

  “I can’t imagine we’ll ever sell, but I’ll keep the offer in mind.”

  “Do you know why the house was sold furnished?” William asked. “I’m sure they could have made a lot of money selling the furniture separately.”

  “It was a charity that inherited the estate,” Janet explained. “At the time, we were told that they simply wanted to get everything done as quickly as possible.”

  “Their loss is your gain, I suppose.”

  As William was
waiting for someone from the insurance company, Janet went to the café and brought back lunch for them both again. They both enjoyed their bangers and mash, and William was just finishing his jam roly-poly when the adjuster arrived.

  “I’m going to go home and see if Joan needs any help getting things ready for our guests,” Janet told William as the frowning man began to inspect the damaged items.

  William followed her to the door and then switched the sign to “closed.” “I don’t want to have to deal with the insurance company and customers at the same time,” he told Janet.

  She nodded and then walked out. As she heard William lock the door behind her, she glanced towards the chemist’s shop and gasped. “Wanda? What brings you here?” she asked the woman who was leaning against the building smoking a cigarette.

  “I heard that Mr. Chambers had his window broken,” she replied. “I came over to make sure he was okay and to see if he needed any help with anything.”

  “That was kind of you. He’s dealing with the insurance company right now, but it shouldn’t take long.”

  The girl shrugged. “I have other places to be,” she said, pushing herself off the wall and throwing her cigarette butt into the air. It landed near Janet, and she quickly stomped on it to stop it burning. When she looked back up, Wanda was halfway across the car park.

  Janet took a step after her and then remembered that she’d emptied the box of tissues in her bedroom that morning. While Joan kept a supply of such things for the guest rooms, Janet didn’t like to ask her for one. Such things, when used by guests, were a business expense, and Janet knew that Joan kept meticulous records of every penny that she spent on the business. If she gave Janet a box of tissues from her supplies, she’d have to go back in and amend her accounts. It was easier for everyone if Janet bought her own tissues. She preferred a different brand to the one that Joan insisted on using anyway.

  “Ah, Janet, how are you?” Owen Carter, the chemist and sole employee of the small shop, asked as Janet entered.

  “I’m very well. How are you?”

  “A bit concerned about the vandalism, but I’m trying not to let it bother me,” he told her. “I know it isn’t my shop, but I do worry about it, just the same.”

  The shop had once belonged to Michael Donaldson, but when he’d decided to retire, he’d sold it to a large chain. Owen had been working for the chain for many years, but the shop in Doveby Dale had given him his first management position.

  “I’d hate to think that someone was going to start throwing bricks through windows regularly,” Janet replied.

  “I’ve been redoing my window displays, just in case,” Owen told her. He gestured towards the front of the shop. Where one window had been full of jars of baby food, it now contained boxes of rubbish bags. The other window had showcased a large and very expensive pushchair. That had been replaced by neatly stacked boxes of tissues.

  “Hopefully, an unnecessary precaution.”

  “Corporate isn’t happy about it, because my windows are supposed to be the same as the displays in every other shop in the chain. I’ve promised them I’ll switch everything back in a week if nothing else happens.”

  “That seems fair,” Janet said as she handed him two boxes of tissues. He rang them up and then put them into a bag for her. She handed him the money and then picked up her bag. Turning to leave, she stopped when the shop’s door swung open.

  “Hey, how long is the antique shop going to be closed for?” the man in the doorway demanded.

  “I didn’t realize it was closed,” Owen replied, looking flustered.

  The man shook his head. “You’re not much help, then,” he snapped before he spun around and disappeared.

  “Such a disagreeable young man,” Owen sighed. “I’ve stopped trying to get food at the coffee shop across the car park because of him.”

  “Is he always there?”

  “He always seems to be there when I go, anyway,” Owen replied.

  That made it even odder that Peter Henson hadn’t mentioned the job on his CV, Janet thought as she walked out of the shop. She dropped her tissue boxes into the car’s small boot and then slid behind the wheel. As she started to reverse carefully out of her parking space, a horn stopped her. A sporty black car driving far too quickly through the car park sped past her. Janet watched as Bradley Austin parked across two parking spaces and then climbed out of the car. He was standing in front of the antique shop, frowning, as Janet drove away.

  Hours later, Janet sighed. “Maybe they changed their minds about arriving tonight,” she said as the clock in the sitting room chimed ten.

  “Mrs. Morris said she’d ring me if their plans changed,” Joan told her.

  “I thought she also said she’d ring you if they were going to be later than nine.”

  “Yes, well, perhaps they’re stuck in traffic somewhere where her phone doesn’t work,” Joan speculated.

  “I hope not, as that would mean they’d still be some distance away,” Janet frowned.

  “You go to bed. I’ll wait up for them.”

  “You should be the one who goes to bed,” Janet countered. “You’ll have to get up and make breakfast tomorrow, whatever time they arrive.”

  “If they’re very late, they probably won’t want breakfast until later in the morning.”

  “Maybe, but it still makes more sense for me to wait for them, just in case. What time do I turn off the lights and assume they aren’t coming?”

  “I told Mrs. Morris that if they hadn’t arrived by ten, they would have to make other arrangements for the night,” Joan replied with a frown. “I’d hate to leave them stranded, though.”

  “If they’re running late, they should have rung. They probably decided not to come until tomorrow and simply didn’t bother to ring.”

  The sisters were still debating what to do when someone knocked on the front door.

  “That better be our late guests,” Janet muttered as she got to her feet. She followed Joan to the door.

  “Good evening,” the pretty blonde on the doorstep said. “George is just bringing the bags.” She breezed through the doorway and glanced around the room. “This is adorable,” she cooed.

  A moment later, another knock had Joan letting an equally attractive young man into the house. “We’re only here for three nights,” he told the woman. “You’ve brought enough for a week.”

  “I wasn’t sure what our plans were for every day. I wanted to be sure I had the right outfit for anywhere we decided to go,” she replied.

  “I’m Joan Markham and this is my sister Janet,” Joan said. “I’ll just get your keys, and then I do ask that you pay in advance for your stay.”

  As she left the room, the blonde spoke. “George, pay the woman.”

  The man nodded and then put the bags down heavily. He dug through his pockets, eventually finding his wallet. “How much?” he asked Janet.

  “Joan deals with that. You’ll have to wait until she returns to check with her,” Janet replied.

  Joan was back a moment later. “You’ll be staying in the Alberta Room,” she told the couple.

  George repeated his question. Joan told him the rate for each night and then totalled their stay for them.

  “Are you quite sure of your math?” the woman asked. “I thought, when I rang, that you told me less than that.”

  “Feel free to check my math on a calculator,” Joan said stiffly. “I don’t make a habit of trying to cheat our guests.”

  George counted out twenty pound notes and then added several pound coins, counting aloud until he reached the correct amount. “Here you are,” he said.

  Joan counted the money carefully and then put it into her pocket. “I’ll just show you to your room,” she said.

  “It’s early,” the blonde replied, wrinkling her nose. “Where can we get a drink?”

  “A drink? There’s a pub in the village, but it may be shut now,” Joan told her. “Doveby Dale is a very quiet village, real
ly.”

  “Maybe this wasn’t the best choice,” she sighed. “George, can we go somewhere else?”

  “I just paid for three nights here,” he snapped. “I’m going to bed.”

  The woman sighed again and then rolled her eyes. “We’ll work it out in the morning, I suppose.”

  “Let me show you to your room, then,” Joan said. Janet could hear the tension in Joan’s voice.

  She let Joan lead the couple from the room and then followed them all up the stairs.

  “It’s very small,” the woman sniffed as she stood in the doorway to the Alberta Room.

  “It’s fine,” her husband told her. “We’re just going to sleep here.”

  “If there aren’t any pubs nearby, we may have to have a few drinks in here at night, too,” the girl replied.

  “Let’s worry about that tomorrow, too,” George suggested. He pulled their bags into the room and then shut the door behind himself and his wife.

  “I don’t like them,” Janet whispered to Joan as the sisters walked back down the corridor.

  “Neither do I,” Joan sighed. “I did think we were due some nice guests after all the awful ones we’ve had lately.”

  “What time do I need to be up tomorrow?”

  “Oh, goodness, I never asked them what time they want breakfast,” Joan sighed. She turned and walked back down the corridor. Janet followed, more out of boredom than for any other reason.

  “Breakfast?” the woman frowned at the question when she’d answered Joan’s knock. “I don’t know, eight? Nine? Maybe somewhere in between. I’d ask George, but he’s in the shower.” She pushed the door shut in Joan’s face.

  “That was helpful,” Janet said, forcing herself to see the funny side of the situation. It was clear from the look on Joan’s face that her sister hadn’t seen a funny side to the conversation.

  “Please be down by half seven,” Joan said. “No doubt whatever time they decide to get up, I’ll want your help.”

  Janet unlocked her bedroom door and walked inside. Aggie was already curled up on her pillow next to Janet’s in the large bed. She opened one eye and then scowled at Janet.