Sidney Chambers and The Shadow of Death (The Grantchester Mysteries)

emporium.’
    ‘Are you sure it will be open?’ Sidney asked. ‘Most of the shops seem to be shut.’
    ‘I thought I saw someone through the window.’
    ‘Then let’s go in and ask.’
    They parked the car and approached a shop that consisted of toys, trinkets and teddy bears. The owner was a broad-shouldered man with a walrus moustache and twinkling brown eyes. ‘What can I do for you both on such a magnificent morning?’ he asked.
    ‘We are not sure that we have come to the right place . . .’ Sidney began.
    The proprietor was unconcerned. ‘Ask me anything!’
    ‘I think we must be looking for the previous owner,’ Amanda continued. ‘Did this building once belong to someone in the arts, a painter or a restorer, perhaps?’
    ‘It did indeed: Freddie Wyatt; the most mild-mannered of men.’
    ‘But he is no longer here?’
    ‘Alas, he is not.’
    ‘He has retired?’
    ‘To Holland, I believe. He went in rather a hurry. He said he couldn’t wait to get out of England and just left me with a forwarding address.’
    ‘When was this?’
    ‘A few years ago now. The place was a terrible mess when I bought it. There were bottles of pigment, sugar, tea and alcohol all over the place with no way of knowing what anything was; no labelling, no order. It was chaos. I offered to send on any money received for work that people were late to collect but after three months that would be that. But you have not come to hear about this, I am sure. You have come for a bear, I hope, or a souvenir; something to remember your visit.’
    Amanda kept to the subject. ‘We were thinking of having a picture restored but it seems we have come to the wrong place.’
    ‘I sell picture postcards, my dear, but not pictures.’
    ‘You knew this Freddie Wyatt?’ Sidney asked.
    ‘We used to drink together in The Swan Hotel. Do you know it?’
    ‘Unfortunately, I do not.’
    ‘They do a very fine jugged hare.’
    Amanda pressed further. ‘And do you know what happened to the work that was left here?’
    ‘The paintings? I put a sign on the door. All work had to be collected and paid for within three months. I gave the rest to the church fête.’
    ‘How many paintings did you give away?’
    ‘About ten, I suppose.’
    ‘Can you remember them?’
    The owner tried to think. ‘There were some hunting scenes, some seascapes, a few dreary portraits; some of them were even of clergymen.’
    ‘Any ladies?’
    ‘One or two . . .’
    Amanda produced a photograph. ‘Any that looked like this?’
    ‘She looks rather soulful doesn’t she? Is she a widow?’
    Sidney tried to help. ‘Do you remember seeing it?’
    ‘I can’t be sure,’ the owner continued. ‘Most of the paintings that were collected in time were because a woman came on behalf of someone else to fetch them. She paid for six or seven restorations and framings. I remember because we rounded it all up to five guineas.’
    ‘Do you think this picture could have been amongst them?’
    ‘Possibly.’
    ‘You didn’t keep a record?’
    ‘No. I just sent the money on.’
    ‘You cannot remember what the lady was called?’
    ‘I’m afraid not. But she came on behalf of a Mr Phillips.’
    ‘Do you, by any chance, have his address?’
    ‘Alas, I do not. It was all very slapdash, and poor Freddie’s bookkeeping was atrocious. Are you sure I can’t interest you in a bear or two? We have a couple of very good Stieffs.’
    ‘I don’t think so . . .’
    Amanda smiled. ‘Oh Sidney. Don’t be silly. Let me buy you a bear. Then you can take me to lunch.’
    ‘You don’t have to.’ Sidney wondered about Amanda’s gift giving: first a dog and then a teddy bear. He should really get her something himself.
    ‘I know I don’t have to. But I want to, Sidney. Let me choose one for you.’
    ‘What an excellent idea,’ the proprietor exclaimed. ‘I sometimes think that’s all you need to be happy: a fine bear and an efficient hot water bottle.’
    ‘If only it were that simple,’ said Amanda as she paid the bill.
     
    They remained in Saffron Walden for lunch. Sidney had offered the possibility of a return to Grantchester but Amanda was having none of it. She wanted to have a look round and make a day of it, visiting the ruined castle and the medieval buildings and examining the pargetting on the houses in Bridge Street. ‘Also,’ she added, ‘I don’t think I could bear one of Mrs Maguire’s toads in the hole.’
    Sidney felt that he should stick up for