The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1736 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

So the explosive was dynamite–it’s ironic that the man who invented it and made billions also created the Nobel prizes including the peace prize–seeing as much of his money was made through munitions. But then allegedly, much of the Churchill’s money was made through shares in Krupps, the giant German armament manufacturers.

I considered a scenario as follows: someone deliberately blocked the flue of the heater and possibly enabled fumes to enter the house by breaking the seal on the front of the boiler. Most boilers will stop if you block their flues but some don’t or you’d have to know what you were doing to prevent the thing shutting itself off.

So someone with knowledge of how to cause a blockage sufficient to have fumes enter the house but not put out the boiler. They or associates would have to have access to a supply of dynamite and be aware of what they were doing to destroy both the evidence of their tampering and kill Gareth–assuming he was the target. That Stella and the girls could have been killed as well might be, collateral damage, as the military describe it. It disgusts me that children could be killed to get at the parents–but then someone capable of this is either very wicked or mentally ill. Either way, if I can help in catching them–‘Lay on, Macduff, and damned be him who cries, Hold, enough!’ See, a good education is never wasted.

My cogitations weren’t going to actually catch anyone, that needed detective work and James was doing that. I asked him to send me a report of the substance which I’d feed to Andy Bond. I wasn’t entirely surprised when I saw the lab involved was the Metropolitan Police.

I called Andy Bond and asked him if he’d heard of the explosion which had killed Gareth. He had, but hadn’t realised who Gareth was. I asked him if he’d heard what caused the explosion and he told me gas–the guy was playing with the boiler when it went up.

“So if I told you, I have evidence to show the presence of dynamite or at least nitro-glycerine, what would you think?”

“It probably isn’t gas and unless he was making bombs, then he was likely murdered by someone else.”

“I gave some of the same evidence to one of your colleagues for analysis, mine comes from the Met, I sent a sample up to London. What should I do?”

“Let me make a few calls–I’ll get back to you.”

I started the dinner, and while it was cooking fed the baby. I hadn’t had time to express any milk, so shut myself away and fed her from the breast. She recognised me anyway, but all the same I hadn’t fed her except by bottle before. She took a moment to think about it before she smelt the milk–I was oozing just a little when I picked her up–and she soon got the idea, sucking me dry in double quick time. I changed her and put her down for a nap then drank some water to try and produce enough for Catherine’s next quota. Quota? It makes me sound like a cow–to them–the babies, I mean–I suppose I am.

While Fi had a little sleep, I did the veg and put them on to cook. The ham I was boiling was half cooked already, so I then collected some parsley and began to chop it for the sauce. There’s nothing like fresh herbs for cooking or making sauces, and I knew my lot would swoop down and devour it all like hungry vultures. We hadn’t had ham for ages, and although his was a biggish joint to feed the five thousand, I did think next time I cooked it I might try roasting or baking it–probably the latter, less fat.

Simon arrived about the same time as Julie, so we were all there except Stella and Gareth of course. I asked Simon to propose a toast to absent friends before we ate and Julie started to sniff. She fancied Gareth like mad, although she’d met him several times, she didn’t really know him because he wasn’t interested in her–I know, he fancied her mum–no, he had eyes only for Stella–least, that’s what I’m telling myself. If I do it often enough, I’ll believe it.

I left the clearing up to Julie and Jacquie, Sammi was bursting to tell me about work and how nice her boss was–she was sure he fancied her–he touched her bum several times during the day–accidentally of course.

I asked her to tell me if he did it the next day–if so–I’d have a word with Simon. He’d be absolutely furious, so I needed proof that it was an accurate report, not a bit of wishful thinking; though she does scrub up well and looks quite attractive as a girl.

Once she’d finished gushing and telling me about how inadequate the computer system was–for which I called in Si, who was most interested in what she had to say. He would have a word with his IT manager tomorrow. She might be simply trying to attract attention to herself, but she is a whizz with computers and he wasn’t dismissing her. She went off to look after the babies while Simon and I went off to visit Stella in hospital.

On the way we chatted about my research and James finding it was dynamite that killed Gareth. Unsurprisingly, Stella was subdued, I suspect too, that she had been sedated. She barely acknowledged we were there. We stayed for the hour making small talk which she mostly ignored and slept.

On the return home, the girls were in bed and Tom was reading them a story–they love him doing it because he uses all sorts of funny voices. Simon showed me the list of defaulters and the owner of the quarry was there–he owed half a million pounds when he topped himself, after moving all his assets into his wife’s name. As she wasn’t a director of the company, the bank couldn’t touch her. It began to look increasingly like we’d found a motive for murder–but as yet the evidence was at best circumstantial. I hoped James would turn up a bit more.

Simon half hoped my research was accurate because it let him off the target list, but when my suspect was on his list of defaulters of his precious bank, it possibly meant we were all targets and we decided to continue on red alert until we learned otherwise.