Classic Mistake Read Online Free PDF Page B

show her appreciation with little whoops of pleasure. She insisted on having the top down even though it was spitting with rain. ‘Bet the Queen doesn’t have one of these cars,’ she said proudly, lifting her head back to the breeze and her face to the spots of rain.
    ‘Bet the Queen would like one,’ I replied happily.
    The May Tree looked as innocent of crime now as Buckingham Palace. I could see its wooden tables outside, and a village green with a chestnut tree in full bloom. History alone knows what happened to the hawthorn that lent the pub its informal name. The idea of a shoot-out here now was incongruous; it was more like the idyllic Potwell Inn where H. G. Wells’s Mr Polly found his Shangri-La. Then I remembered that Mr Polly had had to fight for his paradise with the formidable Uncle Jim, who chased him with broken bottles all too vigorously. I comforted myself that Mr Polly had won by guile in the end, and in any case George Taylor, the licensee here, proved no such formidable opponent. Tall, well built and slow, the grin on his face reassured you that you were his favourite customer.
    ‘I’ll call Justin, Daisy,’ he told her amiably.
    ‘This is Mr Jack Colby,’ Daisy announced importantly. ‘He’s going to find Melody for me.’
    George shot me a conspiratorial look of despair and disappeared to find his son. Justin, when he appeared, was not yet his father’s son where confidence and amiability were concerned. In his early twenties, he had a look of defiance in his eyes as he greeted me before turning them on Daisy in adoration.
    ‘Told you
I’d
handle Melody,’ he muttered sulkily when she did not return this sign of devotion.
    ‘Yeah, but you haven’t, have you?’
    ‘Suppose we all have a drink?’ I intervened hastily.
    ‘I’m on duty,’ he said obstinately, but his father took a firm hand.
    ‘You go, son. I’ll handle the bar.’
    We ordered sandwiches and salad and adjourned to a table by the window. As Justin looked increasingly uncomfortable, I decided to take this head on. ‘Daisy tells me you have some information about Melody.’
    He hesitated, despite my non-confrontational tone. The view outside the window was clearly fascinating him. ‘Think I saw her round here, but didn’t want to say nothing till I’d checked it out.’
    ‘And have you?’
    ‘Yeah. Well, sort of … . I reckon it’s in a barn.’
    ‘Where?’ Daisy was taking no prisoners. ‘Why haven’t you told me?’
    ‘Don’t know where. Somewhere.’ Justin had a hunted look.
    ‘Why not tell me? Why not tell the police?’ she persisted.
    ‘Wasn’t sure, was I?’ Justin grew even more defensive.
    ‘Does this barn belong to a friend of yours?’ I asked to help him out, wondering what on earth I was doing here when I should be chasing up every clue I could to Carlos’s murder.
    Justin finally cracked. ‘Look, straight in your face, OK? I should have told you before, Daisy. I reckon I know where it is, but I don’t know nothing definite. But I’ll get it back for you. I will, I promise.’
    I could see the hurt of anxious youth in his face, but even without that I felt there was something I wasn’t quite getting here.
    Most girls would have shot back some cynical remark but not Daisy. She knew when to stop. ‘I know you’ll do your best, Justie.’
    He looked at her with such adoration that my heart bled for him. Remembering that Daisy had to ‘see places’ before she would appreciate Justin, I only hoped he would wait long enough.
    I wasn’t sure that I appreciated him too much myself at the moment, though, so I moved things along by making it clear that I’d had enough. ‘I’ll drive you back, Daisy,’ I said pointedly. ‘It’s a police job.’
    ‘Melody?’ Justin asked nervously.
    ‘No. A murder case.’
    ‘That one in Maidstone?’ Justin asked to my surprise. ‘Dad says the word’s going round it’s Carlos Mendez.’
    Why should the word ‘go round’, I wondered. The