“Do you mean asking DI Fincher?” Partial Sue asked. “Because she seemed pretty tight-lipped to me, and DS Thomas’s lips hardly moved at all.”
“Not DS Thomas or DI Fincher,” Fiona replied. “But she’s not nearly as tight-lipped as you think. She let something slip. Fairly innocuous but enough to get us going.”
“Come on, spill the beans.” Daisy was shaking with impatience.
Fiona pulled out her credit card. “Beans are right. Because I feel a Tesco delivery coming on.”
They parked themselves at the table, eager to hear more. Partial Sue got it straight away, that quick brain sifting through everything the DI had said. “Aha! She let it slip that the delivery driver was from Tesco’s. They didn’t say that in the news. They just said a delivery driver found a body.”
“Correct.”
“But how does that help us?” Daisy asked. “We don’t know who he or she is.”
“You saw the police cordon when you were on your way to work. What time was that?”
“About nine thirty. I was already late. Apologies.”
“Like I said, doesn’t matter. Police were already there, tape across the road. Sounds like they’d been there a while. Tesco’s earliest delivery slot is between eight and nine in the morning. That must have been the slot Sarah booked when the delivery driver discovered her. We book the same slot, as soon as possible. We’re in the same neighbourhood, so hopefully we’ll get the same driver. Then we question him or her.”
“What if it’s not the same driver?” Partial Sue asked.
“Then we keep on booking deliveries until we get the right one.”
Daisy beamed. “Let’s go shopping.”
Fiona pulled out her phone and went online. The other two gathered round the little screen, each taking it in turn to add items to the basket, killing two birds with one stone — get their weekly bits and solve a murder. Possibly the first time that these two activities had been combined. They managed to secure a slot for two days later.
“Oh, I forgot Scotch eggs,” Daisy said. “Is it too late to add Scotch eggs?”
“Are you allowed to call them Scotch eggs?” Partial Sue asked. “Don’t they have to come from Scotland?”
Fiona stabbed away at the screen. “I think I can still amend the order. As long as it helps us catch the killer. Scotch eggs or Scotch-inspired eggs have now been added to the basket. Total is now forty-seven pounds and eighty-five pence.”
Partial Sue sucked in air through her teeth. “I hope we get the right driver, or this is going to get expensive.”
“Don’t worry. I’m paying,” Fiona said.
“Oh, no,” Daisy protested. “We’ve all ordered things. We should all chip in. Split it three equal ways.”
“Er, I think I might have ordered a tad less than you two.” Partial Sue shifted uneasily. She wasn’t hard up and had more money than Daisy and Fiona put together, but chose to live a life of frugality. Before she’d retired, Partial Sue had been a talented, in-demand accountant — brutal, some might say. Ledgers had been known to tremble in her presence. Mercilessly cutting costs, she’d saved many a small business from going bust, and often waived her fee if she knew they were in dire straits. However, her legacy had followed her into retired life, and she lived in a tiny house, where pennies were pinched and fists were tight.
Daisy’s normally soft face hardened as she gave her the harshest of looks.
A humbled Partial Sue said, “I’m sure three ways will be fine.”
Fiona’s finger hovered above a big blue button on the screen. “Okay, I’m hitting buy. Done. Now we wait.”