The Cipher Garden by Martin Edwards Read Free Book Online Page A

Cox fell on his feet. The previous chef left soon after old man Jenner died and soon Oliver was giving thewidow something to smile about. The restaurant may not be full to bursting every evening, but Bel won’t lose sleep. Her husband left her with a few quid. The business was more like a hobby. Probably still is.’
    ‘I saw Warren Howe’s daughter.’
    ‘Last I heard, she was working there as a waitress.’
    ‘Kept yourself informed about what goes on in the village, then?’
    He shrugged. ‘Chris Gleave and I were at school together. He was a couple of years older than me, but we got on all right. We haven’t spoken for ages but we never lost touch completely.’
    ‘So you knew the man who owned Keepsake Cottage?’
    ‘He and his wife still live there.’
    ‘They own a foul-tempered mongrel.’
    ‘Name of de Quincey.’
    ‘Yes, it gave the impression it was as high as a kite. What’s wrong with a nice harmless pet called Tabitha or Tom Kitten?’
    Nick laughed. ‘Did de Quincey take a piece out of you, by any chance?’
    ‘No, but it looked as though it would love to. Tell me about Chris Gleave.’
    Nick’s eyes flicked back to his screen. More messages had popped up while they had been speaking. ‘Better catch up on the backlog first. Fancy a drink later on?’
    ‘Sure.’
    Marc was going to be late home this evening, which made things easier. He seemed jealous of her friendship with Nick. Yet they never as much as exchanged a peck on the cheek. It wasn’t that sort of relationship.
    ‘See you in the Shroud, then.’
    * * *
    Half a mile from The Heights, Kirsty stopped at a passing place when she saw a van coming towards her. As it drew near, she recognised it as belonging to Peter Flint. Oh God, there was no escaping him at present. She lowered her head, keeping her eye on the foot pedals, but predictable to a fault, he didn’t drive on past. He stopped when his car was level with hers and wound down his window.
    ‘Off to work?’
    Silly question. She was tempted to say so, just to wipe the cheerful beam from his face. Their relationship was fraught, but she knew he was making an effort and she always found it difficult to be rude
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘I’ve just been talking to Bel. She wants help with that little garden at the back of the restaurant. Moles have been playing havoc with the lawn and she’d like the border replanting. Oliver’s no gardener, so I said I’d ask that brother of yours to lend a hand.’
    ‘Best of British.’ She couldn’t think of a reply less sarcastic.
    ‘I know, I know.’ Peter’s sigh was theatrical. ‘Sam doesn’t like knuckling down, he doesn’t seem to understand, this is a service business. The client is king. Or queen, in Bel’s case. But I haven’t given up hope. Deep down, he has a genuine feeling for plants. Like Warren, of course.’
    Kirsty gave a brusque nod and Peter seemed to realise that it wouldn’t be tactful to embark on a conversation about her father.
    ‘Well, must be getting on. Nice to see you. And if you speak to Sam before I catch up with him, you might mention the job for Bel.’
    ‘I’ll see if he can fit it in his busy schedule.’
    He chuckled to show that he saw the funny side of her brother’s idleness and with a wave was gone. Turning into the car park at The Heights, Kirsty spotted Gail Flint’s sporty yellow Toyota. As usual, Gail had parked in a space reserved for the disabled; it was the type of thing the old bag did just for the hell of it.
    Gritting her teeth, Kirsty walked into reception. No sign yet of either Arthur the barman or the Croatian kitchen girls. Gail and Bel were chattering away on the sofa where, during opening hours, customers waited while their table was prepared. Two expensively dressed forty-somethings , one blonde, one brunette. Everyone always said Bel was stunning (for her age was Kirsty’s unspoken qualification) but Kirsty suspected she might be putting on a pound or two around her