Gus left the pub, and returned home to telephone Deirdre. Tomorrow was Saturday, market day, and while Beattie was in town they would have two and a half hours to allow Deirdre to renew her friendship with Theo. The key player would be Rose Budd, and Gus was confident that he could draw her into a plot to foil the old dragon. But first, Deirdre, then Ivy, to keep the old thing informed. Then Rose. She had said to ask her if there was anything he needed to know, so he had the perfect excuse for knocking on her door.
“Hello? Deirdre, is that you? Gus here. Now, good news, but listen carefully.” He explained that they had to time the visit so that Beattie would have no suspicions. Ivy would be lookout, sitting on the seat outside the shop, when the afternoon bus picked up passengers. Then she would return later with Gus’s mobile phone in her handbag, and would ring the Hall to alert them to Beattie’s return.
“What about Rose Whatsit?” Deirdre said. “Will she let me in? You bet old Beattie has given her strict instructions to admit nobody!”
Gus smiled modestly. “I think you can leave Rose to me,” he said. “I’ve met her already, and she was extremely friendly and helpful. I’m sure she would have every sympathy with an attempt to brighten the life of the old boy. Will at the shop says that her husband works like a slave on the estate, and is certainly not overpaid for his labours. Beattie holds the purse strings, it seems. Any attempt to get one back on the old dragon will be enthusiastically received, I reckon. Anyway,” he continued, “if Rose won’t play ball, I’ll think of something else and let you know. So, best bib and tucker tomorrow afternoon, and best of luck.”
“Bearing in mind what Ivy suspects about Theo and Miriam Blake,” Deirdre said slowly, “my most important task is to find out what went on, what he knows and thinks about the whole murder mystery, isn’t it? Persuading him to be our client seems to have taken a backseat, especially since Ivy decided we should keep our heads down for a bit?”
“Absolutely,” said Gus. “Quite right. Get him talking, not too much reminiscing about your own steamy affair with him, and gently point him in the right direction. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He wasn’t that sure, but knew that this was a chance not to be missed. It was Deirdre on trial, really.
IVY NEXT. SHE grasped the whole plan in minutes. No, she didn’t need a tutorial on how to use a mobile. Young Katya had one, and would be a willing teacher. “The young are so much better at it than we are, Gus,” she said, well aware that he would object to being bracketed with an old lady in her seventies.
He grinned to himself. Ivy Beasley was one of the best, he decided. Meeting Ivy had made his settling in Barrington worthwhile. Then he thought of his ex-wife’s letter and enclosures, and wondered if Ivy would be up for loaning him a small amount to help him out. Of course not! No point in asking, and in any case, it would scupper the whole project if he was in debt to her. At the moment he was precariously at the helm of Enquire Within, but at any time his position could be challenged by the cousins.
Gus looked at himself in the cracked kitchen mirror, and smoothed down his thinning hair to disguise the fact that his head was beginning to show through. He straightened his shoulders, persuaded himself that he was still an attractive proposition, and set out to tackle Rose Budd.
Seventeen
THEO ROUSSEL WOKE up with the pleasant feeling he had every Saturday. Today, Beattie was going to market, and, even more pleasant, Rosebud would be coming to make his tea and keep him company. He couldn’t believe his luck when Beattie had set up this arrangement. The only thing he could think was that she considered, mistakenly, that a young and lovely blonde would never in a million years fancy such a sedentary old man.
He got out of bed and tiptoed to the door, opened it and peered up and down the corridor. No sign of Beattie. It was early, and she would not bring his cup of tea for at least half an hour. He crept quietly along to his study and taking a key from its hiding place, he moved the portrait of his grandfather to one side and carefully opened the safe door.
He took out a small box, opened it and extracted an exquisite sapphire and diamond ring. It was like a small regal crown, released into the light, sparkling as if it was brand-new. He smiled, muttered that the sapphire would match her eyes, and slipped it into his pyjama jacket pocket. Then he shut the safe door, straightened the portrait, and silently retraced his steps to his bedroom.
When Beattie knocked at his door before bringing in his early morning tea, he was able to give a convincing performance of a man waking up for the first time, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
“Market day, Mr. Theo,” she said. “Up we get as soon as we’ve finished our tea. I need to get breakfast out of the way, then a basketful of ironing, quick lunch and then off on the bus. Anything you particularly fancy from the market? They had some lovely ripe peaches last week.”
Then why didn’t you buy them last week, Theo said to himself, but he answered that peaches would be just the thing. Perhaps she could look for strawberries, too, and then he could have a fruity pudding tonight.
The morning went as always for Theo. He enjoyed his breakfast of bacon and fresh mushrooms gathered by Rose’s husband David, then settled in his study with the Times crossword. Bouyed up by the thought of Rose coming after lunch, he hummed to himself as he consulted a pile of dictionaries and Roget’s Thesaurus at his elbow. He prided himself on being able to complete the crossword before dinner, and as Rose was unfortunately no help at all with the clues, he would have only this morning and an hour or so after tea to finish it today.
GUS WALKED BRISKLY along the terrace and stopped at the Budd’s house. He had tried to find Rose several times yesterday, but there had been no one at home. It would be bad luck if they had gone away on holiday! But no, someone was coming to the door. It was David Budd, and he smiled in a friendly way at Gus.
“Mr. Halfhide? Rose told me you’d met. Is there anything we can help you with? Come on in. We’re in our usual squalid muddle, but that’s children for you. Rose!” he shouted. “Here’s Mr. Halfhide!”
David was a good-looking thirty-year-old, his face tanned by an outdoor life, and with not an ounce of spare flesh on him. He had done well at school and set out to be an architect. But the years of study needed to qualify were too daunting for him, and in any case, he had always wanted to be a farmer like his maternal grandfather. Agricultural college had proved ideal, and he had enjoyed his time there. In fact, it was there he met Rose. It had been love at first sight for both of them, and in due course they were married.
There was no money for David to buy a farm, and so he had ended up in Barrington, working on the Roussel estate. It suited him well, apart from having to deal with Miss Beatty. But he kept well away from her, and apart from paying lip service to some of her more bizarre instructions, like keeping a piglet in an old rabbit hutch in the empty stable, he had the management of the land more or less to himself.
Even the piglet project was dropped when, as David had tried to warn her, the piglet grew too big for the hutch.
“What can we do for you, Mr. Halfhide?” Rose said, clattering down the stairs in lilac-coloured plastic clogs.
“Please, do call me Gus.”
“Okay-and I’m Rose and he’s David. And little snot-nose there is Simon.”