The Coniston Case Read Online Free Page B

gave us a chance to say whether we could do it or not. You probably won’t like it,’ she warned.
    ‘Why not?’
    Melanie cocked her head teasingly, saying nothing. She simply passed the sheet of paper to her boss.
    ‘Good grief!’ Simmy exclaimed, when she read it. ‘Yet another trip to Coniston, or very nearly. What’s going on?’
    ‘What?’ Ben charged forward, almost elbowing her aside. ‘Let me see.’
    Simmy stood her ground and pushed him back. ‘Get away,’ she ordered. She peered again at the paper. ‘It’s supposed to go tomorrow. Don’t they know how busy I’m going to be?’
    ‘Are you saying you’d have refused the job if you’d had a chance to speak to the person who brought this?’
    ‘Of course not. At least, not in normal times. This isn’t a normal week, though, is it.’ She read further down the page. ‘Irises and anything in light colours. Hmm. Addressee – Mrs Maggie Aston, Goodacre Farm near Coniston. “With my deepest apologies.” Something to the value of thirtypounds. Paid in cash.’ She looked at Ben, who had made a small sound. ‘What’s the matter?’
    ‘Looks a bit like the one to the Hayter man,’ he said. ‘Don’t you think?’
    ‘You both saw this person. Was it a man or a woman?’
    ‘Didn’t see, sorry. I wasn’t taking much notice,’ Ben admitted. ‘I was trying to fix the bits that have fallen off the tower.’ Two or three months earlier, Ben and Simmy had designed and constructed a model of a local landmark, which had formed a permanent centrepiece in the shop window display ever since. It was made from natural materials, such as dried seedpods and sticks, which were turning brittle and dusty with the passage of time.
    ‘Mel?’
    ‘A woman, I think. It was all so quick. Whoever it was just pushed the door open and chucked the letter in. They were gone again in about four seconds.’
    ‘I must admit I’m starting to think this is all a bit funny – don’t you? Another cash order for someone out towards Coniston way?’
    ‘You know what I think. I bet it’s always like this at Valentine’s. Neither of us really knew what to expect, did we? We’ve never done it before.’
    ‘That’s true. I’ll have to do it, I suppose, even if it feels rather weird. I can combine it with the Hawkshead one. Should I go round the lake to the north or the south?’
    ‘North,’ Melanie told her. ‘The road from here to Ambleside is quicker, then you just pop down through Barngates. It’s only three or four miles.’
    ‘It’s going to be about twenty miles altogether, then.’ Simmy sighed. ‘More, probably.’
    ‘Do it after we’ve closed. Then you can go straight home, and it won’t be so much driving.’
    ‘Good thinking,’ said Simmy gratefully. Melanie really did have a talent for logistics. Then she had another thought. ‘No, I can’t do that. It’ll be dark. I’m not hunting for a strange farm in the middle of nowhere at night. I’ll go at lunchtime.’
    ‘Hey, hey!’ Ben protested. ‘First things first. We’ve got to tell old Moxo about this before anything else. Never mind how or when you get there – this is obviously the next victim of a serial killer. If I rush, I might even catch him out in the street. We need to act fast.’
    Simmy’s jaw clenched. ‘You’re much too late for that. And don’t say such stupid things. It’s not funny.’
    For the second time in half an hour, Ben flushed red. ‘Don’t call me stupid,’ he said. ‘Whatever I am, it isn’t that.’
    ‘Sorry. But you are being silly, all the same.’
    ‘I am not. Think about it for a minute. Okay – the serial killer part was over the top, but you do have to report this. The person sending these flowers can’t know there’s been police interest in the Hayter man, can he? Or she. It could just as easily be a woman.’
    ‘It’s not all the same person, Ben. That’s really ridiculous. They came in different ways. Posted and hand delivered. There’s