Free Fatal Quest by Sally Spencer Page B

‘Round here, everybody calls her Lene.’
    â€˜Lene?’
    â€˜After Windowlene – you know, the stuff that you use to make your panes of glass sparkle.’
    â€˜So she spends a lot of time sittin’ at her front window, does she?’ Woodend asked, getting the point.
    â€˜When she’s not in this pub, she’s at that window of hers. She don’t miss much that’s going on. And, you may be interested to learn, she just happens to live directly opposite Victoria Jones’s house.’
    â€˜I’m
very
interested to learn that,’ Woodend agreed.
    With a pint of bitter in one hand, and a glass of milk stout in the other, Woodend made his way across to the old woman’s table.
    â€˜Do you mind if I asked you a few questions?’ he said, placing the milk stout in front of her.
    â€˜Wot about?’ the old woman replied.
    â€˜About Victoria Jones,’ Woodend said.
    â€˜She’s a darkie,’ Lene told him, in a tone which suggested there was nothing more to be said on the subject.
    â€˜An’ you don’t like darkies?’
    â€˜Nuffink against them – as long as they stay in their own country.’ Lene took a sip of her drink. ‘I will say this, though – that girl of hers is all right. Always willing to lend me a ’elping hand when I need it.’
    â€˜Do you see much of what goes on with the family?’ Woodend wondered.
    â€˜Are you accusing me of being a nosey parker?’ Lene demanded.
    â€˜No, of course I’m not,’ Woodend said hastily. ‘It’s just that, living opposite them as you do, there’ll have been times when you’ll have been bound to see things, whether you intended to or not.’
    â€˜What kind of fings?’
    What kind, indeed? Woodend wondered.
    â€˜Anythin’ unusual,’ he said.
    Lene thought about it for some time. ‘Well, o’ course, there is the motor car,’ she said finally.
    â€˜What about it?’
    â€˜Big black shiny thing, it is. Don’t belong to nobody wot lives round here. Much too expensive.’
    Woodend waited for her to say more on the subject, but it soon became plain that she wasn’t going to.
    â€˜So what’s special about this car?’ he asked. ‘Does it sometimes pick the Joneses up from their home?’
    â€˜Now why would it want to do that?’ Lene wondered.
    â€˜Then what
does
it do?’
    â€˜It just sits there.’
    â€˜Where?’
    â€˜On the street.’
    Woodend suppressed a sigh. ‘So what has this car got to do with the Jones family?’ he asked.
    â€˜Well, it’s only there in the early morning and late afternoon, ain’t it?’
    â€˜You’ve lost me again,’ Woodend confessed.
    Lene looked at him pityingly.
    â€˜It’s only there when the girl is eiver going to school or coming back from it,’ she said.
    Woodend felt a tiny shock of excitement run through his body, making his fingertips tingle.
    â€˜How many people are usually in the car?’
    â€˜Just the one. A man.’
    â€˜An’ could you describe him to me?’
    â€˜He wears a big ’at.’
    â€˜Is that all?’
    â€˜It’s all I can see from my
winder
. Like I said, it’s a very
big
’at.’
    â€˜How often does this car turn up? Every day?’
    â€˜No, nuffink like that. Sometimes I don’t see it for weeks on end.’
    For weeks on end! Woodend repeated to himself.
    So whoever had been watching Pearl Jones hadn’t just started doing it recently.
    â€˜How long has this been goin’ on?’ he asked. ‘Months?’
    Lene gave him a look which was even more pitying than the last one. ‘Months?’ she said. ‘Yer must be joking!’
    â€˜Then how long has he been comin’?’
    â€˜Bloody hell, it must ’ave been
years
!’
    The Conway Club had no sign over its entrance to announce its