The Ullswater Undertaking by Rebecca Tope (read dune .TXT) 📕

far from benign. There had been moments when she could swear they shifted in the night, making sharper bends than ever.

Robin obligingly remained asleep while she dashed around the village shop in Troutbeck. It was also a tea room, much valued by walkers, with the grocery side of things intended purely as a stopgap for essentials. Self-catering visitors bought their bread and milk there but were sadly thwarted if they wanted fresh fruit and vegetables, or even any meat. Simmy grabbed necessities for that evening and next day’s breakfast and resolved to send Christopher out to a bigger shop at the first opportunity. His promise to go out to a supermarket on Tuesday had been thwarted by Fabian’s appearance, as he eventually admitted.

As she opened the passenger door of her car to sling her purchases onto the seat, a man cleared his throat behind her. Without looking, she said, ‘I’ll be gone in a minute. Am I in your way?’

‘Mrs Brown, it’s me.’

She turned, already half aware of his identity. ‘DI Moxon!’ she greeted him with a beaming smile of genuine pleasure. ‘I haven’t seen you for ages.’

‘It’s pure coincidence that you see me now – although I was thinking we would probably have to have a little talk one day soon.’

‘About the murder in Keswick,’ she nodded. ‘Out of your area, again, I assume?’ The occurrence in Grasmere the previous year had also technically not involved the detective from Windermere, but in the event, he had been drawn into it as it neared its conclusion.

‘And I wanted to see your little one.’ As Pattie had done the day before, Moxon peered into the shadows of the rear seat. ‘Boy or girl?’

‘Boy. Robin. All very straightforward, when it came to the crunch. He’s three weeks and two days old.’ DI Moxon knew most of the story of little stillborn Edith and Simmy’s subsequent divorce. He had shown a finely balanced sympathy and understanding, and endeared himself to her accordingly. His exasperation with the persistent involvement of young Ben and Bonnie in murder investigations had mellowed into a grudging admiration, and a rare acceptance of a participation that most police detectives in his position would regard as blatant and outrageous interference.

‘And here you are, out and about just as always.’

‘Yes, well, that’s how it is these days. I didn’t actually go anywhere for the first week, but since then … well, as you see. What’re you doing in Troutbeck?’

‘Bit of trouble at the tourist village. Car had its tyres slashed, would you believe. Not very nice, I must say.’

‘Appalling,’ she agreed. ‘So, you’ve made the connection between me and the Keswick murder.’

‘It wasn’t very difficult,’ he said with a twinkle. ‘Very bad luck for your … partner.’

‘Fiancé,’ she corrected. ‘We’re getting married in a little while. It’s all decided.’ She wondered whether he would expect an invitation and was half inclined to issue one there and then. ‘In fact, I was meaning to go and talk to them at the pub this afternoon. I’d forgotten until now. We might have the party there. What my granny would have called the wedding breakfast, I suppose.’

‘Congratulations,’ he said as if he meant it. He threw another look at Robin, which clearly said, A child’s parents really ought to be married, even though he knew better than to say it aloud.

‘Ben Harkness is on the case of the murder, needless to say,’ she told the detective. ‘He’ll be delighted that I’ve seen you.’

‘You mean, so that I can disclose confidential details about the investigation, I suppose.’

‘Something like that. He needs an excuse not to go back to Newcastle, I suspect. He’s changing his course and there are ructions. The truth is, he really doesn’t like it there, which is a real shame.’

‘Changing his course? Whatever for? I don’t think I’ve ever met such a dedicated student of his subject. What happened? Why would he do that?’ The man was clearly shaken.

‘I know. I was shocked as well. But I suppose after two terms, he’s given it time enough. I don’t think anything happened, exactly – he’s just not suited to it, somehow. He says the syllabus is too narrow and ignores too much of the bigger picture. Something like that. He wants to do history instead. I get the impression it’s turning out to be less simple than he thought.’

‘Good Lord,’ said Moxon helplessly. ‘I’m gobsmacked.’

Simmy giggled. ‘Anyway, we’ve just been going over bits of the Armitage family history, to see if we can find any meaningful links to Josephine.’

‘Oh?’ He blinked two or three times. ‘Explain.’ When she gave him an old-fashioned look, cocking her head teasingly, he went on, ‘You’re right that I’m not directly involved in the investigation. You are quite likely to know more than I do – which you’re free to disclose to me here and now. I can then pass it to the proper quarters. Anything I can contribute will be gratefully received, I promise you. Or has Christopher already told them everything they should know?’

‘They interviewed him on Tuesday, and we went to Keswick yesterday and met up with some of the people who worked with Josephine. I don’t know any of them very well. We’ve mostly been talking to the Armitages. Hilda Armitage left Josephine her house. She’s known them all for decades. One of them wanted to marry her. Did you hear about the filing cabinets?’

Moxon made slowing-down motions with his hands. ‘All this and a new baby too,’ he said, sounding oddly reproachful.

‘Who sleeps a lot of the time. Although I will admit he doesn’t much like it in the car.’

‘Looks contented enough now.’

Robin was still asleep, but his posture yet again caused Simmy some concern. The seat held his body more or less straight, but his head flopped down on his chest at an angle that would give anybody neck ache. ‘It’s not good for him,’ she said. ‘All screwed up like that.’

‘Filing cabinets,’ he said.

‘She was killed beside them, apparently. They’re full