Nine - Toadstools

coming soon

EIGHT - Finding's keeping

Thursday, cont. 

Gary was propping up the low wall surrounding the Fargo garden when Cleo drove up.

“There’s no one in,” he said, hugging Cleo briefly.

“That’s not really surprising,” said Cleo. “I expect everyone’s at work. What about the garden?”

“Chris has gone round the back, but nothing seems to have been disturbed recently and judging from the beautifully trimmed lawn edges and tidiness I should think they employ a gardener.”

“So it’s hardly likely that they would dig a large hole somewhere,” Cleo finished.

SEVEN - Soup kitchen

Thursday, 4th October

If Jane Barker had not joined the Finch Nightingales as provider of refreshments and modest addition to the altos, Louise Keys would have been less worried about the coming rehearsal!

Admittedly, if the issue with Toby Bates’ poisoning had not been a problem requiring urgent attention, the very idea that the soup served by Jane as light refreshment on a cool summer evening was contaminated might never have occurred to anyone.

SIX - Deathcap

Wednesday cont.

It was no wonder that Cleo’s trip to Middleton library did not reveal much, since Bertie Browne published anything resembling anything in his twice-weekly Gazette that was long on page-filling, but short on information and entirely independent of accuracy. Hot air was good enough to fill the pages that were not devoted to price-slashing (if you can believe that) offers of cars, cats and cucumbers. The Fargo family did not merit a single mention.

FIVE - Den of Thieves?

Wednesday cont.

Cleo decided to find out more about the Fargo family herself before regaling Gary with Dorothy’s advice. It was just possible that the tramp had genuinely been mistaken for the deceased relative. One way into that mystery would be to find out who the tramp really was. Social services might know, but when asked they professed to have nothing to do with wayfarers, old or young, after passing them along to another department, usually the police.

FOUR - Night Rider

Wednesday 3^rd October

Edith Parsnip had allowed Robert to leave and was getting was ready for a lonely night when Brass banged the vicarage gargoyle against the solid oak front door, so she answered the door in her negligée, a flimsy garment that revealed more than it hid.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” apologised Brass. “I just need to know what you saw and heard behind the church hall, Mrs Parsnip.”

“It’s Edith and come in,” she said, dragging the surprised sergeant inside. “We don’t want to wake Miss Baker, do we?”

THREE - One down, more to go

Tuesday 2^nd October

Fred Bradley, known to everyone as Brass, was one of a rota of cops who ran the local constabulary in Upper Grumpsfield. It was really only a room with a counter and IT equipment, a coat stand and a tiny back room sporting hygienic facilities, a fridge and a coffee machine. 

TWO - Louise Keys calls the tune

Monday cont. into Tuesday

Cleo wondered how Gary would take the news that she was planning a project that would relieve her of the domesticity label she did not care much for.

ONE - Ouverture and beginners, please

The day Louise Keys moved to Upper Grumpsfield should have been one of rejoicing and gladness. At least that’s what Mary Baker, who was now established at St Peter’s parish church as its lady curate, said.

But it wasn’t, as Dorothy Price who had been more or less the musical impulse of the village for years, realised the moment she set eyes on the woman.