Found Guilty at Five Read online

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  FORTY-FOUR

  FORTY-FIVE

  FORTY-SIX

  FORTY-SEVEN

  FORTY-EIGHT

  FORTY-NINE

  FIFTY

  FIFTY-ONE

  FIFTY-TWO

  FIFTY-THREE

  FIFTY-FOUR

  FIFTY-FIVE

  FIFTY-SIX

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  FIFTY-NINE

  Titles by Ann Purser

  Lois Meade Mysteries

  MURDER ON MONDAY

  TERROR ON TUESDAY

  WEEPING ON WEDNESDAY

  THEFT ON THURSDAY

  FEAR ON FRIDAY

  SECRETS ON SATURDAY

  SORROW ON SUNDAY

  WARNING AT ONE

  TRAGEDY AT TWO

  THREATS AT THREE

  FOUL PLAY AT FOUR

  FOUND GUILTY AT FIVE

  Ivy Beasley Mysteries

  THE HANGMAN’S ROW ENQUIRY

  THE MEASBY MURDER ENQUIRY

  THE WILD WOOD ENQUIRY

  FOUND GUILTY AT FIVE

  ANN PURSER

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England • Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India • Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) • Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Copyright © 2012 by Ann Purser.

  Cover art by Griesbach/Martucci.

  Cover design by George Long.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are registered trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  FIRST EDITION: December 2012

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Purser, Ann.

  Found guilty at five / Ann Purser.—1st ed.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 978-1-101-61347-4

  1. Meade, Lois (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Burglary investigation—Fiction. 3. England—Fiction. I. Title.

  PR6066.U758F73 2012

  823'.914—dc23

  2012026985

  For Jane and her mother, my most loyal readers.

  ONE

  JOSIE’S WEDDING DAY DAWNED WITH OMINOUS GREY SKIES and puddles on the road outside Meade House, the result of a rainstorm in the night. Lois had heard pattering on the bedroom windowpane and comforted herself with the unreliable old saw—“Rain before seven, fine before eleven.”

  Now it was time to get up, and she turned over to nudge Derek awake, only to find nobody there. Then she heard footsteps on the stairs, and the bedroom door opened to reveal Derek, bearing a tray loaded with breakfast.

  “You sneaky devil! I was going to do that for you.”

  Derek grinned. “A warm thank-you wouldn’t come amiss,” he said and, putting down the tray, he leapt athletically into bed beside her, only to land groaning with what he declared was a twisted ankle, certain to ruin his day as father of the bride. Lois did her best to comfort him.

  * * *

  THE MEADES HAD LIVED IN THE VILLAGE OF LONG FARNDEN FOR a good few years, having moved from a small semi on a council estate in the nearby town of Tresham to a solid family house previously belonging to a doctor who had been one of Lois’s first clients in her house-cleaning activities. One of the few remaining English villages with shop, school, church, and pub, Farnden’s houses came on the market at high prices. But in Meade House, the dark shadow of the murderous doctor had put off prospective buyers, and Lois, Derek and family had felt no qualms about moving in.

  Lois contributed to their bread and butter by running a very successful house-cleaning service, New Brooms, and with husband Derek’s one-man electrician business, they jogged along reasonably happily. Safely in the bank, earning a good rate of interest, was a comforting sum won on the lottery a few years ago.

  Over a period of time, Lois had developed a special skill in amateur detecting, and this had been a very useful service for Inspector Hunter Cowgill of Tresham police. Lois’s independent spirit had been maintained by her refusal to take payment for what Derek, who disapproved, grumpily called “ferretin’.” Inspector Cowgill, a handsome widower with a high reputation in the county, kept his decided fondness for Lois more or less successfully to himself.

  Lois was proud of her family of two sons and a daughter, and Gran, Lois’s mother, underpinned them all by housekeeping at Meade House. Overworked and underpaid, she reminded them frequently.

  And so now, thought Lois, as she and Derek finally downed cold tea and congealed scrambled egg, we will have another family member, young Matthew Vickers. Matthew was Cowgill’s nephew and also a policeman, doing well in the force, and about to wait in the village church for Lois’s only daughter to walk up the aisle to join him.

  * * *

  “I THOUGHT YOU TWO HAD DECIDED ON AN EARLY START?” accused Gran, as Lois and Derek brought their empty breakfast dishes into the warm kitchen.

  “I twisted my ankle,” said Derek, remembering to limp a little. In fact, it had been a very small twist, and he felt only a slight twinge. But in truth he was feeling nervous about giving his beloved daughter away to a young man in an increasingly dangerous profession. Derek’s bid for
general reassurance was shattered by Gran saying that she had never heard such nonsense, and a good run round the village green would soon fix his ankle.

  “Plenty of time before you need to dress up in your finery,” she added. “In fact, I think you might have a quick sprint right now.”

  Derek sniffed. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Unless you feel like coming, too, Gran. You can carry me crutches.”

  Gran ignored this with straight-backed dignity, and began to stack the dishwasher with such force that Lois feared for her best china.

  “Speaking of finery,” she said soothingly, “Josie will be here shortly to dress. I’m really glad she decided to set off from here. That crinoline skirt needs a wide staircase to accommodate it.”

  “It’s not a real crinoline, Lois, as you know,” Gran said.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Mother, cheer up!” Lois was fast losing patience, and decided that Gran was best left alone. She went upstairs to check Josie’s room, where the virginal white bridal dress and silk veil were waiting, surrounded by much-loved dolls and teddy bears of childhood.

  Much to her annoyance, Lois felt her eyes prickling with tears. It wasn’t as if Josie would be going miles away. She would continue to run the village shop, and be just as much a daughter as a wife. What was that stupid saying? It’s not losing a daughter, but gaining a son? Rubbish! Josie’s first allegiance will be to her husband, as it should be.

  Lois dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. She heard the door open, and Josie’s excited voice in the kitchen. Time to be the mother of the bride, she told herself, and walked slowly down the stairs to the kitchen.

  TWO

  THE CHURCH WAS FULL BOTH SIDES OF THE AISLE, AND ALL heads turned as the organist broke off the umpteenth repeat of Pachelbel’s Canon and launched into a spirited rendering of Handel’s “Arrival of the Queen of Sheba.”

  Lois felt the dreaded tears welling up as she watched her daughter, who was so like herself, with long dark hair and greenish gold eyes, pace slowly as rehearsed, up to the chancel steps, held steady by Derek’s strong, reliable arm. Then Matthew took her symbolically from her father, and Derek stepped back.

  “All well?” whispered Lois.

  Derek nodded. “Fine,” he replied, “in spite of dog Jeems deciding to jump into the limo with me and Josie.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “Brought her with us,” said Derek. “Gran tied her up outside the church.”

  “Hush!” said Gran in a stage whisper from the pew behind them.

  The service proceeded, with the occasional yelp from Lois’s dog Jemima outside the church, and then it was time for signing the register, whilst the choir sang an anthem. Jamie had volunteered to practise this with the choir and to play the tricky accompaniment. As they reached the triumphant final notes, light footsteps were heard at the open door, and a small, slim girl with short black hair slipped quietly into the back pew.

  Lois watched as Jamie stood up from the organ seat. As he looked towards the back of the church, she saw a big smile cross his face and knew that it was directed towards the latecomer. Then there was a scuffle and low growling, and she looked round in alarm. Jeems had slipped her collar, and was struggling in the arms of the unfamiliar girl. With minimum fuss and holding on tightly to the small white dog, she left the church and a peaceful quiet was restored.

  The ceremony carried on in good order, with loud applause for the magical words “I now pronounce you man and wife,” and soon it was time for endless photographs outside the church door. Lois had noted that it was exactly five minutes to eleven when the sun finally shone from behind retreating clouds. Relations, friends and villagers, stationed beside the low churchyard wall, joined in the general hubbub of congratulations and jollity.

  At last Lois was able to corner Jamie and ask him about the girl who had so courageously thwarted Jeems’s break for freedom. He smiled. “It’s Akiko, my friend who plays marvellous music on the cello. I asked her to come, and she was sad that she had a concert last evening. But she made it! Early train from London, and a taxi all the way here from Tresham. But as usual there was a holdup on the ring road, and that’s why she was late.”

  “Nice of her to make the effort,” said Lois. “Must be a good friend, eh?”

  A voice from behind them reminded them that Gran, who had just finished making sure she appeared in every family group photograph, had also had a hand in the Jeems debacle.

  “I told you that collar was too loose, but you never listen to me, Lois,” she said. “And now, Jamie, who is this nice girl? Says she’s a friend of yours.”

  “This is Akiko,” said Jamie, putting out his hand to introduce the girl, who nodded to Gran with a shy smile. “Akiko is from Japan,” he added, “and I thought she might like to see an English wedding. This is my mum, and this is Mrs. Weedon, my gran.” He grinned at his mother, and said, “Mum, this is Akiko Nakamasa, my colleague. She’s a whiz on the cello.”

  As neither Lois nor Gran knew anything about the cello, there was a short pause. Then Gran, seldom lost for words, said she was sure it made a really nice noise, and had Akiko ever had a number one in the charts?

  Lois surreptitiously stood lightly on Gran’s toe and said, “Oh look, here’s Mrs. Tollervey-Jones. Bless her heart, she’s walking well now. Hi, Mrs. T-J!” she called, and the dignified figure, soberly dressed in navy blue, relieved by a frilly white shirt, smiled broadly.

  “Morning, Lois, and Mrs. Weedon—how are you?”

  So the introductions were made all round, and Lois explained to Akiko that Mrs. T-J’s family had lived at the hall for generations, but she was now settled in a charming stone house with thatched roof, five hundred years old, in the centre of the village.

  “I used to play the violin, my dear,” the old lady said to Akiko. “Not much good, I’m afraid. Piano is really my instrument. You must bring Akiko along to tea, Jamie, and we could play together. My sight-reading is still quite useful. Now, let me see, Nakamasa is an unfamiliar name. I spent some time in the East in my youth, but I’ve forgotten so much! And do you come from a village like this, Akiko?”

  Akiko’s smile faded. “No,” she replied firmly, and did not elaborate. “I shall be pleased to see your lovely house,” she said. “Do you have time to take me, Jamie?”

  Lois had seen the change in Akiko’s expression, and wondered why. As they joined the group throwing confetti at the church gate, she noted that Akiko slipped her hand under Jamie’s arm, and hoped there were no problems looming. Just got one safely off my hands with no worries, and only one to go, she reflected. Jamie, her youngest, had always been special, and as she said later to Derek, she did hope he was not going to take up with a foreigner reluctant to talk about her home. Derek had answered abruptly that not everyone had forgotten the Nips.

  * * *

  AT THE RECEPTION IN THE NEWLY RESTORED VILLAGE HALL, there was relief all round that the ceremony had taken place without a hitch. Lois tried hard to dissuade Derek from filling his glass too often, and when it was time for him to make a speech, he stood up without swaying and delivered his warm and funny lines with no trouble.

  The best man, a police colleague, thanked the bridesmaids with genuine warmth, and finally they all settled down to eating and drinking. In due course there was dancing to old favourites for the more mature guests and later on, when the oldies had retired, the young set leapt about to thumping music from Tresham’s finest young band.

  When most of the guests had gone, and Josie and Matthew were on their way to a brief island honeymoon, Lois collapsed on to a chair and gave a satisfied sigh.

  “Happy now, Lois?” It was Inspector Cowgill, present as uncle of the bridegroom and a distinguished guest.

  She looked at him, frowning. “Of course I’m happy. And why shouldn’t I be?”

  He smiled, and patted her shoulder. “No reason at all. Young love is so charming, isn’t it. And given a chance, we oldies are quite good at it, too.”
r />   “Oh, for heaven’s sake, give it a rest, Cowgill,” she said, standing up. Then she looked at his crestfallen face and relented. “Sorry, Hunter. Didn’t mean to snap; I’m really tired now. See you soon, eh?”

  He nodded. “I’ll be in touch,” he said. “I’ll give you a ring. Still happy to go ferretin’?”

  Before she could reply, Derek appeared and shook Cowgill firmly by the hand. “Off home, are you, sir?” he said. After all, the man was a policeman. “Thanks for coming. Now, Lois, we’re off to bed. All the rest can be done in the morning. G’night all,” he added expansively, and taking Lois’s hand, he led her away.

  THREE

  AFTER JOSIE AND MATTHEW LEFT FOR THEIR HONEYMOON, Jamie had come to his mother and said quietly that Akiko had agreed to stay overnight in Farnden, if they could find her a bed for the night. Their house was full, except for a tiny maid’s room up in the attic, which Lois tentatively offered. Akiko had accepted gratefully, saying that to sleep high up in such a lovely house would be a treat.

  “Her English is very good, considering,” Gran now said, as she presided over a breakfast pan full of bacon, mushrooms, eggs and tomatoes. “How come, Jamie?”

  Akiko had not yet appeared from her eyrie, and Jamie answered that her father had given her a very good education and she was fluent in several languages.

  “She don’t speak Northamptonshire,” said Gran. “But I suppose she’s a nice enough girl, for a foreigner.”

  Derek raised his eyes to heaven and said, “No need to refer to her like that, Gran. She’s a guest and a friend of our Jamie. Now, who’s for coffee and who’s for tea?”

  At this point, Akiko put her head round the kitchen door. “Good morning, everyone. Am I too late? Your lovely bed was so comfortable, I had a really good sleep.”

  “No mice, I hope,” said Gran. “They have races up there sometimes. I can hear them in the ceiling of my room. Now, I expect you’d like something different from our English breakfast?”

  Akiko smiled sweetly. “I am sure whatever you cook, Mrs. Weedon, will be delicious. Thank you very much for allowing me to stay.”