A Village Mystery

Chapter 9 - Down to Business

Nigel twiddled his pen in his fingers as he stared out the office window. Pale blue sky streaked with white scratches of cloud. A bird flew by breaking his concentration and he swivelled around to his desk, tapping the pen on his notebook.

The interview with Margaret White had yielded more than he expected and now he was uncertain how to proceed; it seemed Henry Campbell's disappearance wasn't so easy to dismiss as a disgruntled husband's flight.

All the information his constables had gathered on Henry came almost exclusively from the initial investigation and as Nigel read it again it seemed like they had just taken everyone's word for everything. Learning that Henry had visited his aunt before going to Margaret's and Margaret's suspicion of who might have followed Henry after he left the inn gave him a measure of discomfort.

Louisa had never volunteered information about the visit before and now he needed to know why. And maybe it was Gwen that Margaret saw . . . but why would Gwen come to the police if . . .?

"Sarge, Lynda Tidwell is here to see you." Brian's interruption scattered his thoughts and he immediately stood up and waved her in.

"Thank you, constable. Hello, Nigel. Sorry to barge in but I thought you should hear about something odd that occurred at the hairdresser's."

"Everything at the hairdresser's is odd to me." He joked and pointed to a chair, resuming his seat. Then seeing her face he sat up, mortified. I didn't mean you-- I was-- oh, I've done it again."

She laughed at his predicament and shook her head. "Calm, Sergeant. I know what you meant." When Lynda finished recounting Louisa's unusual reaction to news of Gwen's letter, Nigel pinched his forehead and sagged back in his chair. Now he was questioning his own aunt's connection to Henry Campbell.

"Did I make a mistake bringing this to you?"

"No, no not at all." He held up his hands in a hopeless gesture. "It's just that this incident from so long ago has suddenly become the Merryvale mystery."

A burst of laughter from the outer office stirred him and he pushed away from his desk. "Are you busy? Could we grab some lunch?"

"I'll have to go by and leave a note on the shop door."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you have a business to run."

"It's okay but customers don't expect me to close for lunch at eleven in the morning." He made a small groan and looked pained but she took his arm, laughing, and led him from the station.

********

A Chipmunk scurried along the wooden railing of the patio, stopping to stare for a second or two before disappearing back down onto the lawn sloping away from the cafe to a small stream.

"Summed us up pretty quick didn't he?"

Lynda laughed and watched the tiny animal dart up the trunk of an old maple. Her fingers played with the stem of her wine glass as she considered everything Nigel had spoken about.

"You don't really think Louisa had anything to do with that do you?"

He rubbed his eyes and huffed a breath. "I don't know what to believe about this. Three women, Henry, a mysterious letter and a bag of items recently disposed of -- not too effectively either I might add." He snapped his fingers. "That reminds me, I need to speak to Arthur Simpson again."

A young lad came and cleared away the empty plates, brushing crumbs under the railing; the chipmunk hunting ground. Lynda sipped her wine and Nigel slipped out his billfold and set it on the table.