A Vicky Hill Exclusive! (15 page)

‘What were his
exact
words?’

‘I told him he was misinformed. Then he said, “Can I speak to Vicky Hill” and I said, “She’s out, but will be back later.”’

This was far worse than I feared as I’d distinctly made a point of only giving him my first name.

‘Then, he asked if I knew the hedge-jumping chappy. I told him he should definitely talk to you as you knew Dave extremely well.’ Barbara gave a tinkling laugh. ‘The Yanks are so charming. I had a little tryst in the war with a GI—’

‘Jimmy Kitchen, I know.’ I was getting a headache. Barbara was so indiscreet! She was typical of spinsters who fell to pieces the moment an attractive man entered their orbit. Chester must have guessed who I was from the very beginning. How humiliating! And to think I’d pretended to be a hedge-jumper!

‘Such a lovely man,’ Barbara gushed. ‘He told me I had a “pretty little face”.’

Chester had said the very same thing to me. Men! Maybe Topaz had a point in preferring girls. At least they weren’t as fickle.

Barbara pointed towards the door. ‘Is she waiting for you?’ Speak of the devil. Topaz, holding an armful of clothes, stood with her nose pressed against the glass.

‘It’s open!’ Barbara waved her inside and turned to me. ‘Goodness me. Is she wearing a wig?’

Topaz was, indeed, wearing a wig – a long, platinum blond one to be precise. She’d also made an effort with the rest of her appearance. Gone was the drab serge uniform of The Copper Kettle fame. Instead, she wore an orange tartan miniskirt, orange fringe poncho, and white plastic knee-high boots. Even her lipstick was orange.

‘I brought you some clothes.’ She dumped the pile on one of the leatherette chairs and turned to Barbara. ‘Hello, I’m Topaz Potter from The Copper Kettle, across the road.’

‘Barbara Meadows,’ Barbara enthused. ‘I have a little skirt just like yours. Sometimes I think I really
should
wear it again.’

‘Oh! Please give it to me!’ Topaz rewarded Barbara with a gum-toothed smile and gushed, ‘I just adore vintage clothes, don’t you?’ She picked up a pair of turquoise and green striped hot pants. ‘A sixties, Mary Quant original – perfect for Vicky. She’s got such a nice little bottom, don’t you agree?’

Barbara’s eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared under her fringe. I picked a lemon fuzzy sweater and a mustard-coloured plastic raincoat.

‘I’ll just borrow these,’ I said, hoping the raincoat would cover my ‘nice little bottom’.

‘Change in the hall, dear,’ said Barbara. ‘But mind my bicycle.’

Topaz flopped on top of the pile of clothes, exposing a large expanse of naked thigh. ‘I’ll wait here and chat to your friend.’

I did not want her talking to Barbara or vice versa. Who knew what they’d say. ‘To save time, why don’t you take that stuff back to your place? I’ll be over in a tick.’

‘Okay,’ Topaz smiled. ‘By the way, what happened to that handsome American? Wasn’t he here earlier?’

Barbara beamed. ‘Isn’t he charming—?’

‘Off you go.’ I shooed Topaz towards the door, suppressing the urge to throttle her into silence.

‘Vicky and I are going out on our first date tonight,’ Topaz announced.

‘Date? Don’t be silly.’ I gave a nervous laugh.

‘Goodness.’ Barbara gave an embarrassed cough and suddenly found something very interesting to look at on her desk.

‘It’s purely business,’ I said quickly.

‘Business?’ Topaz’s face lit up. ‘You mean you want me to work for the
Gazette
?’

Blast!
‘Something like that,’ I mumbled.

‘Oh God, Vicky. That’s my
dream
!’ Topaz squealed and did several bunny hops on the spot. ‘You won’t regret it.’

‘Congratulations, dear,’ said Barbara, clearly confused. ‘When do you start?’

Gathering the clothes from the chair, I pushed them into Topaz’s arms. ‘Now. See you in a minute.’

As Topaz swept out the door, I turned to face Barbara. Her expression was etched with concern.

‘Does Pete know?’ she inquired.

‘He doesn’t need to. It’s a private arrangement.’

Barbara regarded me shrewdly. ‘I think that girl’s in love with you. I recognize the signs. You know, I went to an all-girls school. Once, in the dorm—’

‘Just going to pop this top on in the downstairs loo.’ I’d heard Barbara’s boarding school stories dozens of times – naked midnight feasts, naked pillow fights, and naked squashed sardines. ‘Got to rush.’

‘Don’t forget to—’

‘Mind your bicycle, I know.’

I clambered over Barbara’s ancient, pink bike with its wicker pannier and into the loo. As I changed into Topaz’s clothes, I wondered what on earth I was thinking. My entire day had been a nightmare – and the evening ahead promised more drama. I had to get a grip. I reassured myself. This was what being an investigative reporter was all about. Risk. Danger. Living on the edge.

Topaz could prove useful. It was vital I discovered what she and Probes had discussed this morning in my absence. Topaz clearly knew more about Chester Forbes than she was prepared to admit. I could only hope the alcohol would not inflame her passion for me.

‘Y
ou seemed to get on well with that copper this morning,’ I said, taking a sip of shandy. Although it wasn’t quite six o’clock, The Three Tuns was bustling with activity – mostly farmers on their way home from the livestock market in nearby Newton Abbot.

Topaz had snagged a cosy corner table next to the large inglenook fireplace in the public bar, where a fire blazed. The intense heat had forced me to sit on the wooden bench beside her, which was a bit too intimate for my liking.

Topaz fastidiously removed the glacé cherry from her Babycham and put it in an ashtray. No one drinks Babycham these days. Her fussy fake-champagne drink with its trademark baby deer logo cost three times the price of my half-pint. I was paying and she was already on her third.

Topaz put her hand on my knee and squeezed it hard. Oh God, Barbara had been right.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I just told the police officer what you ordered me to say.’

Not quite true, but there was no point arguing. Now that she believed we were working together Topaz had relaxed. I wasn’t sure quite how to tell her there was no job at the
Gazette
, but resolved to tackle that problem another day.

Topaz withdrew her hand to pull a strand of hair over one eye, which unfortunately shifted her wig a fraction. Presumably she thought it sexy. ‘Isn’t this nice? I’m
so
glad you asked me out.’

I wanted to point out that suggesting a friendly drink and asking for a lesbian date were two different things, but didn’t want to distract her from the issue at hand.

‘Come on, Topaz, tell me what you said’ – I lowered my voice – ‘girl to girl.’

I flinched as she leaned her head on my shoulder. ‘Of course, now that we’re a team, it’s different.’

‘It shouldn’t be,’ I said firmly. ‘You only had to tell Probes the truth.’

‘Remember, I asked you what I should say and you told me to go ahead, and say exactly what I saw.’

‘Which was?’ My head began to pound again. God! Not
another
headache. I’d never had so many before. The deafening sound of the Rolling Stones’ ‘Brown Sugar’ blaring from the jukebox didn’t help much.

She turned and looked brazenly into my eyes. ‘You. And the American.’

So Topaz Potter had seen us. The question was, where? Was it out in the alley or inside the
Gazette
? Her flat was directly opposite the reporters’ room. There were no curtains or blinds on the windows. Chester had moved around with a flashlight, and I had stupidly switched on the light when he had left, conveniently illuminating the entire area.

I adopted an expression of outrage. ‘Surely you don’t mean you saw us . . .
together
?’

‘Don’t be silly.’ Topaz polished off her third Babycham and held out the empty glass to me. ‘And some cheese and onion crisps. I’m starving.’

I took it but made no move to get up. ‘Tell me the details – and I’ll buy you a packet of peanuts as well.’

Topaz sighed. ‘The American walked out of the alley first. Then I saw you—’

‘Outside.
Not
inside, surely.’

‘Whatever you say. I just told the policeman about the American and . . .’ She batted her eyelashes. ‘And . . . us.’

‘Us?
Us
? Why would you say that?’ What the hell was she playing at? Why would she insinuate we had a relationship to Probes – I recalled the furtive way she winked at him before leaving reception.

Topaz gazed adoringly at me with her big green eyes. ‘I saw the way you looked at . . .’ She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘At . . . my breasts.’

‘I most certainly did not.’ Recalling her flimsy nightdress, I felt my face redden. ‘I was admiring your silver locket, actually.’

‘It’s all right to be shy.’ Topaz took my hand. I snatched it back. ‘You
did
like them, didn’t you?’

‘I liked the necklace,’ I said firmly. ‘Probably early Victorian. Definitely silver, inlaid with mother-of-pearl.’ Naturally, with my upbringing, I knew a valuable piece of jewellery when I saw it. ‘There should be a photograph of the dead owner inside with a lock of their hair.’

‘You’re right. There is.’ Topaz’s eyes began to fill with tears. ‘The locket belonged to my aunt.’ Topaz pulled a red handkerchief from under her poncho and dabbed at her eyes. ‘It’s all I have left of her now.’

‘For heaven’s sake, I’m sorry about your aunt, but people are staring.’ Three farmers dressed in tweed caps, jackets, and thick twill trousers broke off their conversation to turn and gawk. They probably thought we were having a romantic tiff.

Topaz blew her nose furiously. ‘Tell me about the American.’

‘Chester Forbes?’

‘I thought you didn’t know his name,’ she said accusingly, all grief forgotten.

‘I don’t.’
Blast!
Topaz’s unexpected tears, following on the heels of blatant flirting, had totally thrown me off guard. ‘I made up the name. We can’t keep calling him “the American”, can we?’

‘Oh, I just thought . . .’ A lone tear trickled down her cheek. ‘I thought you knew something.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Have you ever been in love?’

It was hard to keep up with Topaz’s mood swings, but I was happy to change the subject. ‘Yes. With a man.’

‘I went out with this chappy for six months,’ Topaz said.

‘Chappy? But—’

‘Oh, I know what you are thinking.’ She twisted her handkerchief in despair. ‘He broke my heart and I decided never to go out with men again. Ever.’

‘That’s a bit drastic, isn’t it?’

‘All men are cheaters. They’re weak and easily led astray.’ She wiped another tear away, smudging her eyeliner.

I couldn’t really argue with that. Topaz sounded just like Mum. I’d seen Pamela Dingles showing her stocking tops under her micro-mini. Poor Dad had been powerless to resist.

‘I really love him,’ Topaz blabbered on. ‘Then
she
turned up, determined to have him. Dave didn’t stand a chance.’

‘Dave? Not Dave Randall?’ I was stunned. Not
my
Dave Randall.

Topaz nodded, her face tragic. ‘I could never be as exciting as
her
. I’m not rich and I don’t drive a fancy car.’

Nausea swept over me. Surely Annabel was not the
she
implied? Was there no justice? She’d even had the nerve to pretend there was nothing between them when they met in reception last Wednesday.

‘I thought it was you to begin with,’ Topaz continued, which gave some consolation to my fragile ego. ‘But then I realized whoever it was had bewitched him. It was as if someone had cast a spell.’

My mind was spinning. ‘You think Dave is the victim of
witchcraft
?’

Topaz looked at me, forlorn. ‘Everyone knows she does it. But we’re all too scared to say.’

The alcohol was working on Topaz like a charm. ‘Let me get you another drink. Stay there. Don’t move.’

‘Don’t forget the crisps and peanuts.’

As I waited at the bar, my confidence began to waver. Perhaps I had been wrong all the time. It was Annabel, not Lady Trewallyn, who was the ringleader. Maybe Annabel was caught up in some sordid sex game that involved chickens. No wonder she had denied their significance at the tip. Maybe she had also seduced Sir Hugh, killed him, and tried to cover it up with a fake report?

Although this prospect was disturbing, no one could deny what an amazing front-page scoop it would make with all Pete’s favourite ingredients:
FOWL PLAY LINKED TO NYMPHO’S LUST FOR LOVIN’: A VICKY HILL EXCLUSIVE
!

Returning to the corner table, Topaz had brightened up. ‘Remember you owe me a favour?’

‘I do?’

‘The scarf, silly,’ she said with a giggle. ‘Of course, I kept the gloves as a sort of security.’

I gave a nervous laugh. ‘Topaz, there is no need for bribery. We’re friends as well as teammates.’