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Whether this was a lie that could be confirmed by viewing the video footage, Kelly didn’t know. She would have to check later.

But for now, she had very few other avenues she could pursue.

She decided it was best to quit while she was ahead—or at least only slightly behind.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I hope you’re feeling better soon.’

And with that, she turned and marched out of the dining hall, past a disbelieving Martin and two clearly entertained serving staff, while Mrs. Littleslade’s sobbing rang in her ears behind her.

30

A Suspicious Postcard and a Missing Toad

Her boss at The Brentwell Daily wasn’t best pleased that all Kelly could come up with for a Friday article was a review of the Cloverly Rabbit Café up on the main road near the bus stop, not really even in Briar Speckles at all.

However, after Kelly had finished phoning it in, she eased her chastisement with a couple of glasses of wine in the bar, where a handful of locals had gathered to wax lyrical about the positions they’d scored in the upcoming television drama. None had got any further than being extras, but she supposed there wasn’t all that much going on in a village like this, and a simple win probably counted for a lot.

She didn’t stay down in the bar long though, because she wanted to get upstairs to the privacy of her room, where she could work on the story that she really wanted to write.

A story about a mysterious but poverty-stricken family returning to the place where their ancestors had once been major landowners in an attempt to sabotage an upcoming event.

How they planned to do it, Kelly wasn’t sure. But with the parade planned for Saturday, she only had one more day left to find out.

And she didn’t really have any good leads to go on.

Everything that she had come up with had essentially gone nowhere, even if she was convinced that the Littleslades were hiding something.

The next morning, she came downstairs to find that the entire crossroads outside the pub had been cordoned off to be used in some pre-production for the upcoming TV drama.

And because the parade would run from the inn all the way to the church, half a mile across the village, the main road had therefore been cordoned off with orange-and-black striped tape.

What few houses weren’t in on all the festivities a week ago certainly were now, with large grinning jack o’ lanterns outside, strings of orange and black lights hanging in trees and on fences, and animatronic ghosts sticking out of bushes that would groan when you walked past, their tattered bedsheet-like coverings fluttering in the breeze.

Kelly decided to take her suspicions about the Littleslades up to Edward to find out what exactly he could see on the CCTV footage of Pierce Littleslade.

She got there just after ten o’clock as the park was opening. Old Ned, kneeling in a flowerbed at the front, greeted her, as did Edward, who was mending a fence and waved her inside before the sullen teenager in the ticket booth could demand her entrance fee.

‘You’ll never guess what happened last night,’ she said, touching his arm and drawing a look from him before she even realised she was doing it.

He waved her towards the restaurant, and they went inside and got a coffee. They sat down at a table, and she told him all about following Mr Littleslade and her confrontation with the couple in the dining room.

She also told him what she’d learned about Mr Littleslade’s poker career and that the couple were now wanted by the police.

Edward listened to what she had to say and then stood up.

‘Look,’ he said. ‘I received this just this morning.’

He handed her a postcard. It showed a picture of the Eiffel Tower on the front, and on the reverse there was a short message that said:

* * *

Hello, son.

Thank you for everything you’ve done. I really appreciate you taking care of the park for me until I can get back. Me and Lorraine are currently travelling through the south of France, but I hope to be back by the end of next week.

Thanks again. I’m so happy that you decided to help out. I’ll see you when I get back.

Love, Dad.