‘Well, not on an official basis. But I give him the odd fiver for sweeping the place out, doing the odd bit of washing up, you know. Ray’s, you know … he’s … don’t know what the politically correct acceptable phrase is these days? “Simple”? “Differently abled”? You know what I mean, anyway.’
‘Sure. So you give him odd jobs to help him out?’
The landlord looked uncomfortable at this exposure of his philanthropy. ‘Well, yes, a bit. He is quite useful round the place, though,’ he added defensively. ‘Moving heavy stuff, you know …’
‘And Ray’s entirely trustworthy, is he?’
Again Ted looked embarrassed. ‘Yeah. Not bright enough to do anything crooked.’
‘Was he likely to have touched the scallops?’
‘No, no chance,’ came the brusque reply. ‘Thing with Ray is he’ll do anything you tell him to, but nothing off his own initiative. He wouldn’t have touched the scallops unless someone had told him to.’ The landlord looked anxiously at his watch. ‘I wonder what’s happening with that old girl at the hospital …?’
‘Bettina Smiley.’
‘Right. If she pegs out … God, that’ll be all I need.’
‘She looked terribly frail. If she does peg out, I’m sure it won’t be simply because of the scallops.’
‘No, but it doesn’t look good, does it? Local paper with a headline reading: “Old lady dies after eating meal in the Crown and Anchor.” Not exactly the sort of headline I’ve been looking for all my life.’
Jude was silent for a moment, then asked, ‘Ted, do you think the scallops were tampered with?’
‘I don’t know. That’s the only explanation I can find that fits the facts. Though how it happened or who …’ His words petered out in incomprehension.
‘Have you got any enemies?’
He reached for the whisky bottle and recharged his glass. ‘Where do you want me to start?’
THREE
Jude woke feeling better the next morning and, after a breakfast of toast and honey, thought normal life might be once again a possibility. It was another beautiful day, the July sun already high in a cloudless sky. Her instinct was to go round and knock on the door of High Tor, but then, thinking that Carole might still be bedridden, she used the phone.
‘I just wondered if you were feeling any better?’
‘No,’ Carole’s strained voice replied.
‘Have you been sick?’
This received another appalled ‘No!’
‘Well, if there’s anything I can get you from the shops …’
‘No, thank you. I don’t feel like eating.’
‘Any medicines you need?’
‘I don’t need any. I’ll just drink water to flush it out of my system.’
‘Oh. And you’re sure you don’t feel any better?’
‘No.’
‘Ah.’ There was one test Jude knew she could use to find out if her neighbour really was as ill as she claimed. ‘Ted came round for a drink last night …’
‘Really?’ Carole was instantly alert. Rather surprisingly, she had once had a brief affair with the landlord of the Crown and Anchor. It had long ago fizzled down into friendship, and they could meet without awkwardness in the public territory of the pub. But the idea of Ted Crisp paying a social visit to Woodside Cottage … well, that did challenge Carole Seddon’s proprietorial instincts.
‘He was very miserable. He’s been closed down pending a Health and Safety inspection.’
‘Well, he can’t complain,’ said Carole rather prissily. ‘If his kitchen is careless enough to serve dodgy shellfish …’
‘I agree. If that was what happened. But from what Ted said, it was more than just carelessness.’
‘What do you mean?’ The alertness with which Carole picked up the hint suggested that her health might possibly be on the mend.
‘He thinks someone might have arranged what happened, deliberately, to sabotage his business.’
‘Did he suggest who might have done that? Did you ask whether he had any enemies?’ Carole’s questions were now positively eager.
‘I did. He replied at great length, but I’m afraid didn’t say much that was very coherent.’
‘Oh?’
‘He had drunk rather a lot of whisky.’
‘That’s unlike him.’
‘I agree. He’s in quite a bad state. That’s why he was drinking so much.’
‘But didn’t he say what was wrong?’
‘His basic problems seem to be financial. From what he said, he’s only just managing to keep the Crown and Anchor open.’
‘Would he make anything much if he sold the place?’
‘Yes, I think he’d probably do all right. But the one fact that came through very clearly was that he doesn’t want to sell up. In spite of his less than enthusiastic manner, Ted really loves running the Crown and Anchor. He’d be shattered if he had leave the place.’
‘I know. He talks about the pub a bit like people talk about their children. He can criticize it as much as he likes, but once someone else starts, he gets very defensive.’
‘Yes.’
‘But are you saying, Jude, that Ted thinks what happened with the scallops … assuming it was sabotage … was an attempt by someone to force him to sell up?’
‘He implied that, without putting it in so many words.’
‘And when you asked him about having any enemies, did he mention any names?’
‘No. All he said was that his “bloody ex-wife” had come back into his life.’
‘Oh, really?’ said Carole Seddon.
Stuck on the main doors of the Crown and Anchor was an A4 sheet on which had been printed in a large font: CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. Under this someone had scrawled in red felt pen: ‘Dew to customers being poissoned’. Jude felt pretty sure Ted Crisp hadn’t yet seen the addition; he wouldn’t have let it stay there for long. So when, at about twelve o’clock, Zosia opened the locked door to her, Jude pointed it out. The girl immediately tore down the notice and said she’d print up a new one.
