A Cotswold Christmas Mystery

was tucked into one corner, with a clematis growing over it. The winter twigginess of the climber added to the impression of general scruffiness.
Hepzie was off the lead, as she had been throughout the walk, and now leapt to meet her friend Percy. The two performed their usual jerky game, feinting and pouncing on each other. A pair of white alpacas in a field the other side of the driveway watched warily.
‘Oh!’ cried Stephanie, belatedly spotting them. ‘Can I go and stroke them?’
‘Definitely not,’ said Ant. ‘That field is strictly out of bounds to the likes of us.’
There was a large modern barn at the top of the drive. ‘Who uses that? I’ve never noticed it before,’ said Thea.
‘Local quad bike business. Mowers and stuff, as well. He keeps his surplus stock in there. Blackwood knew him yonks ago, apparently.’
‘He hangs onto old friends, then?’ said Jessica, with a little tilt of her head. ‘Sorry – I’m Thea’s daughter. I’m in the police, as it happens.’
Stephanie watched Ant’s face as he absorbed this information, thinking that she herself had actually forgotten about Jessica’s job, for the moment.
‘Better come in,’ said Ant, with a nervous glance around. ‘It’s all kicking off down there. You’ll have heard, I suppose? That’ll be why you’re here.’
‘Your landlord died,’ said Thea. ‘Gladwin told me. Remember her?’
Ant shook his head. ‘Remind me.’
‘She’s the detective superintendent, based in Cirencester. They called her out, presumably, when they found the body.’
Ant frowned. ‘Why would they do that? I mean – it must have been before they’d even had a proper look at him.’
‘Good question,’ said Jessica, giving herself a light smack on the brow. ‘Why didn’t I ask that? Normally, there’d be all kinds of preliminary work before calling someone that senior.’
‘Trying to save time, most likely,’ said Thea. ‘What with it being Christmas. If they thought she’d have to be called at some stage, they’d have opted to do it sooner rather than later. Don’t you think?’
‘Makes sense,’ said Ant, with a vague little nod.
‘So what exactly has been happening up to now?’ Thea asked.
‘Come in first. I wouldn’t put it past Carla or one of her daughters to be spying on us, even now.’ He flicked a quick look at a CCTV camera mounted on a high pole, about twenty yards away.
‘Surely not?’ said Jessica with a little laugh. ‘Not when her husband’s just been found dead.’
‘I promise you,’ said Ant. ‘They’re so desperate to get rid of us, they’re gathering any tiny scrap of evidence against us. They’ll have persuaded themselves that one of us did the old man in, I shouldn’t wonder. It’s second nature to them, to fit us up for anything that goes wrong.’
‘This is a bit more than something going wrong,’ Jessica protested. ‘The man’s dead.’
Ant’s face changed abruptly. ‘That’s what my mother said.’ He turned towards the house, stumbling as he went.
Stephanie could see sudden creases under his eyes and round his mouth. It was like looking at a totally different man. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked him, grabbing his hand.
He pulled her to him. ‘Don’t worry,’ he choked. ‘It just hit me, that’s all. Funny the way that happens.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Stephanie understandingly. ‘Delayed shock. I know about that. You should have a mug of sweet tea. Is Digby here?’
They moved into the house, pulling their boots off in the small front porch and filing through to the kitchen, where Digby Frowse sat in a sagging old armchair by a small black stove, both dogs now at his side. The mud on Percy’s feet was dry, but Stephanie hoped he wouldn’t jump up at her, all the same. The house felt damp and draughty. There were no Christmas decorations; no piles of vegetables waiting to be peeled and chopped; no sign of a turkey or sausage meat or seasonal drinks. ‘Don’t you do Christmas?’ asked Jessica.
‘Oh, yes. It’s all meant to be happening – but without Bev, everything’s on hold. She’s put a tree up in the sitting room, and bought a goose last week, and that’s about it. Not very spectacular, I know. Doesn’t seem so much point when there’s no kiddies to enjoy it.’ Digby looked at Stephanie with a feeble smile. ‘Where’s your little lad, then?’
‘Oh, he’s gone north with Drew. Family crisis,’ said Thea shortly.
‘Don’t tell me. Seems as if there’s a lot of it about.’
‘Don’t joke, Dad.’ Ant was scowling. ‘Not when there’s all this trouble. And we still don’t know whether Mum’s involved. I don’t know about you, but I can feel myself getting into a fair old panic.’
‘So tell us the whole story,’ said Thea, taking a chair at the pine table. ‘Jessica – maybe you could rustle up a nice big pot of tea. Ant won’t mind you rummaging in his kitchen, I’m sure.’
‘Help yourself,’ said Ant, with a very unhappy sigh.

Chapter Ten
The whole story did not take long to tell, especially as Digby left most of it to his son. The older man remained in his ramshackle chair, putting in a few words now and then, sighing and even groaning once or twice. ‘Don’t forget about the missing jewels,’ he interrupted, early on, leaving Ant to explain.
‘I told you some of it on the phone yesterday. There was a row with Blackwood last week. Mum took it that he was accusing her of nicking a package that was signed for, apparently, and then just vanished into thin air. But that hasn’t got anything to do with her being missing.’
‘Do we know exactly what was in the packet?’ asked Thea.
‘Carla’s Christmas present, I think. Some piece of bling. Worth a bit, probably.’
‘Okay. Carry on with the story,’ ordered Jessica.
Ant obliged, taking two or three minutes to describe events since Thursday, and his feelings of anxiety about his missing mother. He summed up with the words, ‘The thing that keeps coming back to me is – it’s Christmas. Mum would never willingly stay away from home, knowing how much we