Picture of Innocence Read Online Free Page A

be. But the woman must sometimes go to the loo. ‘There must be times when Mrs Bailey isn’t available to answer the entryphone; Judy said. ‘What, happens then?’
    ‘They don’t get in.’
    Was this any way to run a farm? Judy might not dabble in things rural very often, but she doubted it. ‘Is your daughter’s practice in Harmston?’ she asked.
    ‘Aye.’
    ‘Does she have employees … a partner?’
    ‘Husband. Nowt to do wi’ practice. Unemployed.’
    They pulled back on to the roadway behind the red sports car, which was also returning to the farmhouse, having been somewhere a lot less muddy than they had. Things were looking up, thought Judy; her ordeal was almost over, and she was going to find out who in this godforsaken place drove a two-seater. Both vehicles parked in the courtyard, and Judy clambered out, a process made even more difficult by the ill-fitting wellies, looking up only when she made landfall.
    Getting out of the car was a girl in her late twenties, dressed for her surroundings, but elegantly and expensively; she wore little or no make-up, and her blonde shoulder-length hair was natural, straight, and well cut. And, for a reason Judy could not pin down, she was quite the most wickedly attractive woman she had ever seen. She reached back into the car, and took out a carrier bag, then walked towards the house.
    ‘Your daughter?’ said Judy.
    ‘Th’wife,’ said Bailey. ‘C’mon.’
    And Judy, waddling behind him towards the delectable Mrs Bailey, her clothes muddy and wet, her outsize wellington boots banging against the backs of her legs, would garrotte Lloyd for this.
    ‘Hello,’ said Mrs Bailey, turning as she reached the porch, smiling as slowly as she spoke, a long dimple appearing. ‘You Inspector Hill? You goin’ to get to the bottom of all this, then?’
    And she had a voice like Devonshire cream. ‘I hope so,’ said Judy. ‘But the flaw with entryphones is that someone—’
    ‘Who let thee in?’
    ‘One of the men watched out for me,’ his wife said, her voice as soothing as balm. ‘He was workin’ down that way anyway.’
    Bailey took the carrier bag from her, and looked inside.
    ‘Went into Stansfield. Got a nice bit of salmon. We got no fishmonger in the village,’ she said to Judy, by way of explanation.
    Bailey handed back the bag, and Judy presumed the conversation was over, and reminded herself that she wasn’t here to probe the depths of this strange marriage.
    ‘As I was saying,’ she went on, ‘ the problem with entryphones is that anyone leaving can admit someone, and—’
    ‘Get t’shoes,’ Bailey said to his wife, with a jerk of his thumb towards the open door, and sat down on one of the wicker seats.
    Mrs Bailey went inside and reappeared minus her shopping and with their shoes. Bailey extended one leg, an indication, it transpired, that his wife should remove his boots. Judy didn’t suppose the service would be offered to her, but her boots were so huge that she had no need of assistance anyway. She stepped out of them, and thankfully slipped on her own shoes, as Mrs Bailey picked up both pairs of boots and went to a standpipe, where she washed the mud off them and her hands.
    ‘Fetch Paxton,’ he said, with a jerk of his head towards the buildings in the distance, and Mrs Bailey dried her hands on her designer sweater, and obediently trotted off.
    Judy dragged her thoughts away from the Baileys’ domestic set-up and opened her mouth to continue.
    ‘C’mon,’ he said, getting up, going into the house.
    Once again she followed him into the hallway, where she was shown the switch box, which proved to be the alarm system, and Bailey explained how it worked.
    Fort Knox should be so lucky. There were fourteen alarms altogether, consisting of the perimeter fence alarm, an alarm which was triggered if the gate remained open for more than thirty seconds, and twelve separate infrared alarms for the unfenced boundaries. If one alarm went off,