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of Hetty’s pots. She realised she could well be wasting her time because who was to say that Hetty hadn’t been forking over her pots before planting winter pansies or something?

As she dug deep into the pot she heard the sound of a car approaching up the drive. Kate peered nervously round the edge of the building, horrified to see David Courtney had returned. She quickly emptied the soil from the pail back into the pot, spilling some in her haste, but that couldn’t be helped. She had to get away from here; digging in Hetty’s flower pots could hardly be classed under the heading of cleaning. She’d have some explaining to do – further explaining to do if David Courtney reported her.

Kate dashed back to the shed and replaced the trowel and the pail. She waited in there, heart pounding, until she reckoned he was safely inside and hopefully not looking out the window. Then she edged round from the back of the house and, keeping close to the wall, tiptoed round to the front. She only wished she hadn’t left Hetty’s patio in such a mess.

Kate switched on the ignition, started up the motor and drove a short distance away to where she knew there was sheltered layby. It was only then she realised she still had the keys to the flats in her pocket. She didn’t dare go back in case the bus got there at the same time as she did. She decided to wait there, hidden, until she saw the bus return and then she’d seek out Stan Starkey, hand back the keys, and tell him what had happened. She didn’t want to be seen by any of the residents at the Grange again this evening.

It was quarter past five before the bus came back and its passengers disembarked slowly and wearily. Kate then wondered if Stan would have to return the bus to wherever he’d hired it from, but instead he parked it round the side of the house. She waited a few minutes to give him time to get into the old stables again before she walked back to the Grange.

Stan was just filling up the kettle as she peered in the open door.

‘Ah, Kate!’ He came forward and closed the door behind her. ‘Any luck?’

Kate shook her head as she handed back the keys. ‘Not only did I not find anything, but I managed to upset David Courtney as well.’

She told him about her search in all the flats, ending in Hetty’s, and how she’d tripped, sent a chair flying, and attracted David’s attention.

‘He had a key to her flat, he told me, so he could help her in an emergency. And I was just about to search the drawer which contained her jewels,’ Kate said, ‘so he couldn’t have come in at a worse moment. He virtually accused me of not only trespassing but also being about to rob Hetty of her jewellery.’

‘Well, you had a good excuse, hadn’t you?’ Stan suggested hopefully.

‘Not good enough, I suspect. And it must have looked suspicious, I suppose. He’ll certainly inform Hetty of all this, but what if he reports me to the police?’

Stan patted her shoulder. ‘Listen, if there’s nothin’ missin’ from that drawer then why would the bugger report anythin’ to anyone?’

‘You don’t suppose he might deliberately remove something just to get me in trouble, do you?’ Kate asked anxiously.

‘Why the hell would he do that?’ Stan looked genuinely surprised.

‘Well, just to get me off his back, perhaps. Oh, I don’t know… And that’s not all, Stan. I wanted to have a look in Hetty’s flowerpots on the patio.’

‘Flowerpots? What do you mean?’

‘Well, the soil had been dug over recently by the look of it. And, if you wanted to get rid of something like a phone, and you knew that the general rubbish was likely to be examined, where would be an unlikely place to hide it?’

‘Never thought of that,’ said Stan. ‘So, did you manage to have a look?’

‘I only got halfway down the first one,’ Kate replied, ‘when I heard David Courtney coming back again, so I had to quickly replace the soil and I spilt an awful lot of it. I’m really sorry.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Stan said after a moment. ‘If she says anything to me I’ll just say that a bird must’ve been lookin’ for a worm or somethin’ in there.’

‘It would have had to be a pretty big bird,’ Kate said, grinning at him ruefully.

Feeling deflated and worried, Kate got home at quarter to six. She’d found nothing incriminating, she’d managed to antagonise David Courtney – who was now as suspicious of her as she was of him – and she’d made a mess on Hetty’s patio. Would the old lady notice when she got back and looked out of her sitting-room window?

As she made herself a cup of coffee, Kate tried to justify to herself what she’d done. What if David Courtney had reported her to the police, saying he’d caught her red-handed in Hetty’s jewellery drawer? That could cost her her job and would most certainly not endear her to Bill Robson.

Perhaps Angie and Woody were right about her not getting involved; it should all be left to the police. But she’d so badly wanted to help Stan find Sharon’s – and Edina’s – killer.

Kate’s mind was in a complete whirl when Woody phoned half an hour later.

‘Hi!’ he said.

‘Hi,’ she replied.

There was a pause. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked. ‘You sound a little down.’

‘No, I’m fine,’ she lied.

‘OK then, shall we have a drink in The Gull later?’

Kate hesitated. He’d know something was amiss if she refused his invitation.

‘Or would you prefer to come over here?’ he asked.

Well, if they were going to have an almighty row it would probably be better to have it in private.

‘I’ll come over about half past seven,’ Kate replied without enthusiasm.

This could be the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back, she reckoned as she ended the call

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