Free Secrets on Saturday by Ann Purser Page B

noticed the garden shed across the road is open. Door not locked. The gardener must’ve forgot, and there’s quite a lot of valuable tools in there. I wondered if you maybe had a key to the shed? Or could you tell me where the gardener lives? Oh, and by the way, I’m Mrs. Meade, the cleaner. My daughter keeps the village shop. Quite respectable, in case you were wondering!” She was glad to see a faint smile crossing the woman’s face, but it vanished in seconds.
    “I don’t have any keys to Mr. Everitt’s house,” she said. Her voice was slightly stronger, and she added. “But I’ve got that gardener’s name and address somewhere. We thought of using him ourselves. You’d better come in a minute.” She removed the chain, and held the door open. Lois stepped in quickly, thanking her and apologizing again for wasting her time.
    She followed the woman into the room with the net curtains and waited while a desk was searched and a small address book produced. “Ah, here we arc,” the woman said. “Mr. Adams, that’s him. He lives down Church End. Number three. His wife’ll be there, if he’s not.” She returned the book to the desk, and just as Lois was about to venture a conversation about Herbert Everitt, a car drew up outside and a man rushed up the path. Evidently he had a key, because there was no knocking or ringing of the bell. Lois could hear the door opening, and as she turned, was confronted by a familiar face. It was Reg Abthorpe, and he did not look at all pleased to see her.
    Lois was the first to speak. She had every right to be there, doing her duty in keeping an eye on the Everitt house, and faced him with confidence. “Hello again, Mr. Abthorpe,” she said. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you.” She waited. He was obviously making a great effort to adjust his face, and made it with a mirthless smile.
    “I’ve been away a lot,” he said, and turned to the wispy woman. “Sorry for just walking in. I hope you don’t mind. I saw the door was ajar, and I was desperate for some help.” The woman appeared to be turned to stone. She stared at him, and said nothing.
    “I wonder if you could tell me the way to Round Ringford,” he said. “It’s not marked on my map.” He addressed himself to Lois, who replied that he could just follow the signpost on the corner by the pub.
    “You can’t miss it,” she said. Still the woman said nothing, and Reg Abthorpe turned as if to leave. “By the way,” Lois said quickly, “I wanted Mr. Everitt’s address. Local people would like to visit him. That phone number you gave me belonged to someone else, and she’d never heard of you.”
    “Oh God, sorry. Must have given you the wrong number. I’ll send you all the details. Uncle’s address, telephone numbers and everything. Can’t stop now, though. Late already. Thanks, missus,” he added, turning to the woman. “Sorry again if I alarmed you, bursting in like that. Cheers.”
    He was gone before Lois could reply, and the door banged behind him. She watched him drive off at speed, and then turned back. “Are you all right?” she said.
    The woman was pale, and her hands were trembling. She nodded slowly, as if waking up, and said in her whispery voice, “Yeah. I’m all right. Who was he? Never seen him before.”
    It was like an automaton speaking words that had been programmed in, and Lois knew without doubt that she was lying. She was absolutely certain that the front door had been closed, and only a key could have opened it from outside.
    “Can I make you a cup of tea? You look shocked. Was it him coming in like that?”
    “No thanks. And yes, I am a bit scared of burglars,” she said lamely.
    “Is that why you have the dogs?” Lois said, leading her on. She nodded again, and Lois said, “Funny they didn’t bark at him, isn’t it?” At this, the woman burst into tears, and Lois helped her to a chair and decided not to brave the kitchen and the two killer terriers. “Sit