‘Coffee, anyone?’
‘Look at this, Adira,’ Jasper pointed to the screen. Adira bent down to see, paused, then looked at the photograph on the shelf behind her.
‘It’s him,’ she said in amazement. ‘It’s Jessie’s husband!’ Then she, too, read all about the Birmingham criminal. She faced Jasper in shock. ‘I can’t believe it. Fancy Jessie being married to a gangster.’ Her mouth gaped open in astonishment.
‘She obviously didn’t use her married name,’ said Jasper. ‘We knew her as Jessie Carter, not Taylor.’
‘Don’t blame her,’ sniffed Adira. ‘Who’d want to be associated with a murderer?’
‘No wonder she left her wedding picture behind,’ said Fletcher, then added, ‘But why leave it out to be found?’
‘Maybe she simply forgot to pick it up?’ replied Adira, then out of morbid curiosity asked, ‘Who did he murder?’
‘According to this, it was during an armed robbery of a bank, where the manager was shot in the chest,’ read Jasper.
All three of them sat in stunned silence for a few moments.
‘And to think his wife lived here in Lilacwell, all this time, hiding such a secret,’ remarked Adira incredulously.
‘Ah well, there’s many a country village hiding secrets,’ said Fletcher rather sagely. Jasper and Adira exchanged a knowing smile. ‘Anyway,’ he clapped his hands, ‘what about your stag do, Jasper?’
‘What stag do?’
‘Exactly. I’m organising one. No, hear me out.’ He saw the beginnings of a refusal. ‘Just a get together at the inn, to mark the occasion. I thought of inviting old Dickie and Max—’
‘What about Fitz, James and Tom too?’ interrupted Adira, wanting to include all of The Cobbled Courtyard crew.
‘Good idea,’ agreed Fletcher.
‘You could ask Rory, too,’ she suggested.
‘The more the merrier,’ cheered Fletcher.
‘Don’t I get a say?’ asked Jasper flatly, making Adira chuckle.
‘We’ll have to be snappy about it,’ continued Fletcher, ignoring Jasper. ‘The wedding’s next week.’ Then he turned to Adira, ‘And what about you? Aren’t you having a hen do, lass?’
‘Of sorts. Me, Cassie and Lisa are going to Clitheroe for a night out.’
‘Good,’ nodded Fletcher, then asked, ‘Why don’t you invite Lilly and Ruby?’
Jasper smothered a laugh and looked directly at her.
‘Err… well, yes, I suppose I could—’
‘That’s settled then,’ cut in Fletcher forcefully.
Yes, the old boy was certainly back on track, thought Jasper fondly. It had crossed his mind that the wedding ought to be postponed; but no, you can’t keep a good man down. All the same, he was at pains to ensure Fletcher adhered to his new healthy regime. Unbeknown to him, Jasper had put a lock on the drinks cabinet. There’d be no more sneaky snifters. He had also binned his cigars and hidden the biscuit tin. Jasper was awaiting the outcry from Fletcher once all this became apparent. He was touched that Fletcher had wanted to organise a stag do for him. It would be good for them all, a bonding session. He still had to stifle his laughter at the thought of Lilly and Ruby out on the tiles with Adira though.
Chapter 26
Rory and Cassie pulled into the farmyard, immediately struck by the sheer amount of surrounding land. Acres of lush green fields and woodland wrapped round the old stone farmhouse. It was a promising start. However, on closer inspection, it was evident how much renovation work was needed. Rotten window frames, cracked glass and peeling paintwork didn’t enhance the appearance of the house. The sizeable cracks in the stonework and dipping roof with missing tiles also hinted at subsidence. Rory’s heart sank. Whilst he had a healthy budget, he doubted it would stretch far enough to buy and fully restore this property along with the outbuildings which looked to be in similar shape. Nevertheless, the land was perfect, giving him loads of space to grow plentiful crops and for future children to roam free.
They were greeted by a middle-aged man from the estate agents, who struggled to open the front door. With a mighty shove, it creaked ajar to reveal a rather dismal looking kitchen which smelt of damp. Cassie looked warily at Rory. Filled with disappointment, Rory took in the old wooden units, chipped tiles, filthy stone floor and greasy work surfaces. There was a rusty metal sink with dripping taps and a draining board holding cracked crockery. Dead flies mounted up on the windowsill and a fridge stood with its door open, displaying shelves covered in mould. The estate agent cleared his throat.
‘Yes, the house hasn’t been lived in for some time,’ he said by way of explanation for its sorry state.
That’s an understatement, thought Rory. The place looked like it had been derelict for years. When exactly had the photographs on the house specs been taken? Although the farmhouse had looked somewhat old-fashioned, the camera had done a sterling job at disguising the condition of the property.
