Keith checked his records. Over the last three days he had delivered six pints. She must have finished some of it. In fact the last time he could remember her not leaving at least one bottle she had written a note apologizing for breaking it. She had asked for an extra too. She was always fastidious like that. She’d been near to tears one year when it had snowed heavily and she was five pence short because she hadn’t been able to visit the bank.

Keith strode across the lawn and banged on the door. If nothing was wrong that should rouse her he thought. The dog, which had stopped barking to whimper and whine, started up again.

Keith tried the door but it was locked. A quick check under the moveable plant pots failed to turn up a spare key. He tried to look through the windows but they were shrouded in thick muslin.

The house sat in the centre of its plot so he made his way round to the back, peeping through any windows he passed on the way. Round at the back Bingo was sitting in the rear porch behind a …

Chapter 1.7


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