Fool Me Twice: Hidden Norfolk - Book 10 Read online

  “Is Olivia’s mother with you today?”

  “Oh yes. Have you not met Natasha?” Henry asked. Tom shook his head and Henry angled his head from left to right, peering through and around people, eventually settling on a small group near to the starting line. He casually flicked a hand in their direction. “The one on the right; in the red dress.”

  Tom looked, noticing Alice following his gaze as well despite appearing not to be involved in this particular conversation. He masked his surprise when he took in Natasha Crowe, not that it was necessary as Henry was already looking towards the children making their way to the start line for the next race.

  “How long is this due to go on for, do you know?”

  Tom shrugged. “The headmaster said it would be an hour and a half, but,” he glanced at the schedule, “they started almost half an hour late and I don’t think we are even a quarter of the way through.”

  “Ah, right you are. Well, I have a meeting, so I must be off. At least I saw the little one compete in at least one event. Good show. Are you working today, Tom? Policeman, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, that’s right. No doubt I’ll be ducking into the office in a bit, yes.”

  Henry smiled. “The beauty of public service… hey, Tom? Come and go, and no one will take your job away.”

  Tom smiled again, raising his eyebrows at the comment and internally refusing to be drawn on the cuts to police numbers they’d faced in the previous decade. Alice looped her arm through his, no doubt a gesture of support as well as tacit encouragement for him to keep his mouth shut.

  “Anyway, I must be off. It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” Henry said, extending his hand once more. Tom accepted it. Almost as an afterthought, Henry paused, hesitating before releasing Tom from his grasp. “Tell me, are the two of you free tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow… Saturday? No… I don’t think we have any plans.” Tom glanced at Alice, who shrugged. She had no idea where this was going either.

  “Ah… well, we are having a bit of a do at our place along the coast. It’s for the children really, an aperitif prior to the full onset of the summer season. It would be wonderful if you could come along, bring—”

  “Saffy.”

  “Yes, bring little Saffy for a bit of fun and games. What do you think?”

  He met Tom’s eye, holding it, and Tom was certain he wasn’t going to be able to kick this one into the long grass. He would have to answer, convincingly.

  “Well… um… yes, I guess we could swing by for a little while,” he said, nervously looking at Alice who remained impassive.

  “Wonderful!” Henry said, genuinely pleased. “I’ll send the details across to you later.”

  He turned to leave and Tom and Alice exchanged glances. Tom called after him. “Henry, don’t… you want to take a telephone number?”

  Henry waved away the question, answering without looking back. “No need. I have it already.”

  Tom watched the man striding away in the direction of the car park. He hadn’t even said goodbye to his wife who was still deep in conversation with her friends. Turning back to watch the next race, he felt Alice tighten her grip on his arm. He leaned in to her, ensuring no one else could hear him.

  “That was odd,” he whispered.

  “Yes, he was. How old do you think his daughter is?”

  Tom looked for Olivia.

  “No, I meant her,” Alice said, inclining her head in Natasha Crowe’s direction. She was evidently much younger than her husband. Tom squeezed her arm with his in a gentle telling off.

  “Maybe he just looks a bit older than his years.”

  “In which case, he must have had one hell of a paper round,” Alice said dryly.

  Tom laughed.

  “Do you get the impression he sought you out?” she asked.

  “Now that you mention it, yes. At first, I thought it was copper’s instinct, but—”

  Tom glanced over his shoulder at the departing figure disappearing from view among the cars in the distance. He shrugged and pushed it from his mind. Saffy was getting ready to run a relay. Judging by her capacity to drop bowls of food as she carried them to the sofa during their weekly movie night, he had a feeling the success of this event wasn’t looking too promising.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Crowe residence lay roughly equidistant between the villages of North and South Creake, a little over six miles inland from Burnham Market, nestling into the surrounding farmland. Although Tom and Alice hadn’t visited before, it was impossible to miss the house. The grounds were hemmed in from the passing highway by a substantial brick and flint wall running the entire frontage. Moss grew atop the crafted stone pier caps flanking the entrance to the driveway and Tom passed through them carefully. The gap wasn’t particularly wide. Evidently, this entrance was original and crafted before the onset of the motor car.

  The gravel driveway wound through the manicured grounds to either side, passing a large pond to their left. A jetty stepped out into the water and a small row-boat was tied up, reeds swaying in the breeze against it. Approaching the main house, they came upon a dozen or so cars parked in front of the main entrance. There was plenty of room. The property was also of brick and flint construction, an old manor house Tom guessed judging by the size and period style. The frontage was impressive, spanning three storeys and possibly an extensive cellar below, with an imposing front door that looked as old as the house itself.

  They were met upon their approach by a young man dressed in a crisp white shirt, black waistcoat and matching trousers. He endeavoured to open Alice’s door for her before she was able, catching her off guard.

  “Can he open mine?” Saffy called from the back seat. Tom smiled as he got out. The valet did as requested, opening Saffy’s door and bowing slightly as she got out, playing up to the little girl’s wishes. He smiled at Tom and gestured to an open door beneath a brick arch.

  “Mr and Mrs Crowe are to be found in the walled garden, sir.”

  Tom thanked him, unsure if he was supposed to hand the man his car keys. Seeing as he wasn’t asked for them, he slipped them into his pocket and joined Alice who looped her arm through his and they walked towards the arch. Saffy ran a few steps ahead and a little girl appeared in front of them. She was dressed in a floral-print dress, her hair neatly plaited and she ran to intercept Saffy. The two girls greeted one another with big smiles, the newcomer almost dragging Saffy back the way she’d come. Saffy looked over her shoulder and called back to them.

  “I’m going to play with Olivia!”

  Alice waved her off, leaning into Tom as the children vanished from sight. “Well, at least someone knows Olivia.”

  They passed through the arch into a showpiece garden worthy of any flower show entry. If the grounds to either side of the approach road were well maintained, then this was a completely different level. The garden was encompassed on all sides by a high wall, presumably offering shelter from the driving North Sea winds that could rattle across the low-lying farmland at all times of the year; particularly brutal during winter. Borders were clearly marked and the mix of flowers, shrubs and trees were obviously far from random in their presentation. There must be a small army of people taking care of this area.

  No doubt whoever did the bulk of this maintenance wouldn’t be overjoyed to see several bouncy castles staked out at one end of the garden, including one with a slide, offering children a choice of five chutes to pick from for their descent. To the right of these was a swimming pool. This alone must have been at least fifteen metres long and set before a large pool house formed from a rectangular outbuilding. Most likely from the building’s traditional roots at the heart of a far larger estate, unless the Crowes still ran an agricultural estate, but Tom figured it unlikely due to the number of nearby barns and houses that were modern conversions into domestic residences.

  The party was in full swing, children shrieking with excitement while the parents mingled with wine and snacks in hand. Music
, playing from a set of speakers taller than most of the children present, added to the atmosphere. The smell of barbecued pork drifted over to them, emanating from a hog turning on a spit in the nearest corner of the garden to the house. Alice chewed on her lower lip, looking anxious.

  “Do you ever feel under-dressed?”

  “On occasion, yes.”

  “How about now?”

  He smiled at her. “Very much so.”

  She returned his smile. He took his arm and put it around her shoulder, pulling her into him.

  “It’s going to be fine,” he said, encouraging her. “Who isn’t called sir on the weekend by some random guy, sweating in a waistcoat?”

  “People call you sir every day,” she countered.

  “They’re paid to. That’s different,” he said, raising a pointed finger as they walked.

  Henry Crowe saw them approaching, excused himself from those he was chatting to and strolled across the grass to greet them, smiling warmly.

  “Somehow I doubt that little fella at the cars is doing so through altruism,” Alice whispered quickly before Henry came within earshot.

  “Lovely to see you both,” Henry said, taking their hands in turn. “So pleased you could make it.”

  Tom cast an eye around the garden and the main house, noting that it was set in an L-shape with the rear extending much further than could be seen from the front. “Lovely place you have here.”

  “Well, it keeps the rain off as one might say.”

  “It would keep a lot of rain off,” Alice said, nodding.

  “Yes, indeed. It certainly beats the noise, grime and sheer volume of people we were used to down in London.”

  “Oh, are you recently moved?” Tom asked, internally wondering if this was why he wasn’t familiar with the Crowes.

  “We’ve always had a home up on the coast, but it’s only now that we are settled here. I used to split my time between Norwich and London depending on what we had going on at the time. These days, I’m much happier to have a sea view when I rise in the morning.”

  He saw both Alice and Tom look at the house quizzically. He read their minds.

  “No, not here.” He gestured as if he was pushing the house away behind him. “We don’t live here. This is our holiday home… a commercial home, so to speak. We lease it out for much of the year but we like to have a gathering here before the season gets underway.”

  “Oh, so you don’t actually live here?”

  Henry smiled. “Perhaps one day, but—” looking over his shoulder at the house “—it is a little large for our present needs, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I don’t know,” Alice said with a smile, “I think I’d give it a go, try to manage the best I could.”

  “Come and join us. Let me get you both a drink,” Henry said, taking Tom by the elbow and drawing them towards the assembled group. “Does your little one enjoy the water? I’m amazed the children aren’t already in the pool.”

  “We didn’t bring her costume,” Alice said, disheartened. “We didn’t realise—”

  “No matter. I’m sure we will have one of Olivia’s here that will do the trick.”

  They were quickly introduced to a number of unfamiliar faces in passing, and Tom recognised one or two that he’d shared a brief chat with or the occasional nod in greeting over the past few months. A tennis ball bounced alongside them, dropping in from the court set on the other side of the nearby garden wall. A distant shout of sorry came from an invisible child and someone ducked, retrieved the ball and launched it back in the direction from where it came.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  “Anything soft for me,” Tom said, glancing at Alice.

  “A glass of dry white would be perfect,” she said.

  “Right you are,” Henry smiled. “Off duty, but never off duty, right Tom?”

  Tom smiled. “Yes, something like that. I’m also driving—”

  “Of course, set a good example. I’ll be right back.”

  They found themselves momentarily alone among the sea of people laughing and joking. Tom lowered his voice. “Feel free to shoot me now. Anytime… anytime at all.”

  Alice slapped his arm. “Behave. We’ve only been here five minutes.”

  Saffy appeared at their feet, tugging on her mother’s dress.

  “Mum, can I go in the pool, pleeeease!”

  “Yes, of course, darling.” Saffy turned and ran off in the direction of the pool, a handful of children were waiting for her. Alice panicked, shouting, “Make sure you—” people turned to her and she stopped short of what she was saying, instead seeing Saffy pull off her shoes and drag her dress over her head and hurl herself into the water head first “—take your clothes off first,” Alice said under her breath, smiling at those around her who were still paying her attention. “Never mind.”

  Tom chuckled. A lady came over to them, Tom recognised her but couldn’t place the name. Seemingly, Alice knew her well and the two embraced just as Henry returned with their drinks. He passed them their respective glasses and steered Tom away from Alice, who noticed but was already in conversation and didn’t seem perturbed by his leaving.

  “Young Sapphire is a credit to you, Tom,” Henry said. “A lovely little girl. You must be immensely proud of her.”

  “We both are, yes.”

  “She has your eye colour, I think.”

  Tom smiled, nodding. He still didn’t feel the need to enlighten Henry on their domestic arrangements. He did find himself considering how well Henry knew Saffy, bearing in mind he wasn’t aware of the death of her father and the series of events that brought them to this particular school.

  “Come and see the house, Tom.” Henry took Tom by the elbow, guiding him towards a set of French doors at the rear of the house. Tom glanced over his shoulder, seeing Alice had been joined by two other women and the conversation was flowing. Despite her reservations, Alice really was good at the socialising. Maybe it was a talent honed by the bedside manner she’d developed as a nurse. Mind you, she’d always been good with people, even at high school. Tom was yet to see Natasha Crowe, however.

  They entered through the open doors, Henry pushing aside the net drapes wafting gently in the breeze.

  “It’s Grade II listed, you know. Once owned by the Hammond family, I am led to believe.”

  Tom nodded appreciatively. The Hammonds were a highly connected family in north Norfolk, particularly during the eighteenth century.

  “Not that I believe they lived here themselves, but they purchased the titles of the estate. Much smaller now, of course.”

  Henry took them through several rooms commenting on various features as well as artefacts positioned in alcoves or safely locked away within glass cases. It was a descriptive tour that Tom felt had likely been delivered many times in the past, his host speaking in a monotone, punctuated by frequent bursts of enthusiasm designed to elicit a prescribed response. Finally, they arrived at a heavy wooden door, one that was probably as old as the house itself. Henry produced a large iron key, sliding it into the lock and opening the door.

  “The one room the guests don’t have access to,” he said, smiling and beckoning Tom to join him inside.

  It was a study, incredibly grand and well cared for. The walls were lined with wood panelling, possibly oak, heavily stained with a dark colour that made what was a rather large room feel enclosed and confined. There was one double-casement window facing out over the rear garden and Tom could see people mingling. He wondered why they were here. He hadn’t professed any great interest in the property. He sensed Henry had an ulterior motive to all of this but, for the life of him, he had no idea what it might be.

  “Drink?”

  Tom declined. Henry smiled.

  “Of course. Driving,” he said, nodding before crossing the room and opening a glass cabinet and taking out a glass and a small decanter, a third full of what looked like scotch. Henry removed the stopper and met Tom’s eye. “Are you
sure? It is a Talisker; forty-year-old Bodega. Lovely drop. And I don’t share it with just anyone, you know?”

  Tom smiled politely. “All the same, I’d better not. At any rate, I rarely drink. I imagine it would put me down.”

  Henry laughed. “A man of your size? I doubt it. Still, your loss.”

  He poured himself a good two-finger measure, returning to the chair behind his desk, he gestured for Tom to sit down. The day was warm and the sun must have been on this room for much of the day. With the windows and door closed, it was stuffy and felt oppressive.

  “Do you like what you do, Tom?”

  “Yes. Most of the time at any rate. Not so much when I’m wading through some of what I deal with at times.”

  “Quite right,” Henry said, sipping at his scotch. “Ever thought about doing something else?”

  Tom turned the corners of his mouth down, shaking his head. “No, can’t say I ever have, to be honest. I fell into being a policeman, and I’ve never considered doing anything else. And, let’s face it, the world is always going to need the police.”

  Is this what all of this is about, a job offer? He had no idea what Henry Crowe did for a living. The nagging feeling came to him that he probably ought to.

  “You make a good point. Without crime, what would we all do?”

  “What is it you do, Henry?”

  Henry swivelled his chair around to face the window and cast his eye over the garden and the gathered guests chatting in the sunshine, either ignoring the question or choosing not to answer it. Tom was unsure which.

  “Careers can be strange beasts, Tom. Just when you think you have tamed them, they turn on you and you have to find a new approach. Sometimes fresh ideas come to us and then, at other times,” Henry angled his head to one side, “they are thrust upon us, don’t you find?”

  Tom didn’t, but he agreed anyway. Henry appeared to drift off in thought, his expression taking on a faraway look as he absently turned the tumbler in his right hand. The silence carried, almost to the point of awkwardness. Tom sat forward in his seat.