Village Fetes Can Be Murder: A Saffron Weald Mystery by Ann Sutton

Author:Ann Sutton [Sutton, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wild Poppy Publishing
Published: 2024-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“So, Pierre was here during the important time frame,” pointed out Imogen as they stepped out of his store. “Lovely though he may be, he must stay on the list.”

Ophelia gritted her teeth. “If you say so, ducky.”

“I do. Police work is nothing if not methodical. If Pierre is innocent, the facts will bear it out.” She withdrew a small shopping list from her bag. “Now, let’s get our bread, and have a little chat with the Puddingfields.”

There was a queue of people in the bakery. The Puddingfields had cleverly placed a fan in one of the small windowpanes that pushed the heavenly smell of baking bread out onto the street. Like Pavlov’s dog experiment, it worked like a charm.

The colonel was in line ahead of them and doffed his hat.

“Did you have a fun day in London, Colonel?” Imogen asked.

Only the most attentive would have noticed the trace of confusion that flickered through his brows. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, we went gallivanting yesterday and saw you at the train station on the platform for London.”

He recovered. “Oh, yes. Yes. Actually, I got off in Kingston. Seeing an old colleague for the day.”

Imogen was not one hundred percent sure he was telling the truth. But why not?”

“Where did you go?” He squinted a smile.

Now it was their turn to be evasive. “We felt in need of a little escape and took a short excursion into the countryside,” she replied.

“I know what you mean,” he confided. “This blasted murder business is like a pall over the whole village. Hope the police figure out who the culprit is soon. Need to get back to normal. Makes the ladies hysterical.” He lowered his voice. “Connie got a ruddy great beast of a dog for protection. Looks like it would take your hand off. Personally, I think it’s too big for her to handle.”

“She mentioned her intention of doing that during the coffee hour after church. But I didn’t think she’d actually do it,” said Ophelia in disbelief.

“Funny. She didn’t mention the dog when we were at the library,” mused Imogen.

“So, you’ve started researching for the history, then?” the colonel asked as they inched closer to the counter.

“Yes, and we found a mention of you, Colonel.”

His face lit up. “Me?”

“It was in a volume on people of note from the county. It detailed your battlefield promotion in the Second Boar War.”

A pink hue suffused the colonel’s face. “Did it indeed? Anyone would have done the same.” He seemed humbly embarrassed by the mention, which description did not always come to mind when thinking of the colonel.

The queue moved forward again.

“Did you visit Saffron Weald much when you were married?” Ophelia asked.

The colonel’s lips twisted. “Rather a strained relationship with my father. Only came for birthdays and the occasional Christmas. Visited much more when it was just Mother.”

Ophelia recalled the slight woman with a puff of blonde hair that later turned snow white. Even as a young woman, she had flinched easily and blinked excessively, and though Mrs.

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