Free The Troutbeck Testimony by Rebecca Tope Page B

bag?’ Ben fired the questions at her with rising incredulity, as she shook her head after each one. ‘Simmy! What’s the matter with you? How could you not even find out his name?’
    ‘I just wanted him to go. He made me feel … I hate to use the stupid word, but he really did make me feel uncomfortable. As if he knew he could do anything he liked to me, and I’d never be able to stop him.’
    ‘I know what you mean,’ said Bonnie, with feeling. ‘So, what did this man look like?’
    ‘Quite tall, with a beard. Probably about my age or a bit younger. Dark eyes.’
    ‘And your father saw him too – on Monday?’ Ben asked. ‘Is that right?’
    Simmy nodded. ‘He fell over and got muddy. But I have no idea whether my father mentioned him to the police. I suppose he must have done.’
    ‘And the beardy man knew the chap who’s been killed? Told you his name?’
    ‘Yes. He said it was all round the village because the woman who found the body knew him and made a big noise about it. It sounded as if she was hysterical, poor thing. Covered in blood.’
    Ben’s eyes narrowed. ‘Really? How come?’
    ‘I don’t know, Ben. She probably tried to do first aid on him or something. The man said his throat was damaged.’ She couldn’t bring herself to repeat the actual words. Her own throat went tight at the image they conjured.
    ‘Hmm.’ Ben’s eyes were shining in an unwholesome excitement at this latest crime. ‘Doesn’t sound as if there’s much doubt it was murder, then.’
    ‘My father’s really going to wish he kept quiet.’
    ‘Right,’ said Bonnie. ‘Especially when he realises he’s landed you in the middle of it. If he was trying to protect you, he’s made a poor job of it, hasn’t he?’
    ‘That’s a horrid thing to say,’ Simmy protested. ‘He must have thought he was doing the right thing.’
    Bonnie raised her hands in surrender. ‘Sorry. But facts are facts,’ she added obscurely. ‘I mean, there have been dognappings around here. You must have seen the notices everywhere. So if somebody’s been killed close to whereyou saw a dead dog, and where other dogs have been stolen, that’s probably what this is all about. And what you and your father saw will confirm that, in the minds of the police.’ She closed her lips, as if feeling she might have said too much.
    ‘I don’t see it,’ Simmy insisted. ‘Why would dognappers kill a dog, for a start? Don’t they want a ransom or something? Then they give the animal back, and things carry on as before.’ The whole idea continued to strike her as unimportant, even mildly comic. Nobody answered and she went on, ‘As far as I’m concerned, I just want to get on with my work.’ As if to emphasise the point, a pair of young women came chattering into the shop, pausing to look around at the flowers and associated goods for sale, as everybody did. Simmy went to greet them, relief rendering her idiotically effusive.
     
    Ben went away again for an afternoon of revision, and Simmy settled down to a careful review of all the wreaths and sprays yet to be created for Friday’s funeral. Bonnie successfully sold a bunch of white roses and another of dried grasses. She had no difficulty with the till and began to experiment with the computer, drawing Simmy’s attention to a new order just in.
    The issue of food had already been flagged where Bonnie was concerned. Ben had munched through his packed lunch in front of the others, not offering them anything. Neither Simmy nor Bonnie had eaten. ‘I usually go out for a roll or something,’ she told Bonnie now. ‘What can I get you?’
    ‘It’s okay. I’ve got a pack of nuts and raisins in my pocket. That’ll keep me going.’
    ‘Are you sure? It doesn’t sound much.’ Simmy regarded herself as a light eater, but even she wanted bread and cheese, at the very least.
    ‘You can get me a banana or something, if you like,’ Bonnie conceded.
    Simmy laughed. ‘Where do you suggest I do