6 Tuppence Stern & The Body In The Broom Cupboard S D Hudson

Laughter is the best medicine, they say. And with this in mind, this Cosy Comedic Audio Drama is perfect for relaxation with a smile.
Potty Pedagogue Tuppence Stern is the English teacher at St Ethelburg's School and an amateur sleuth into the bargain. With the help of her best pal Bart and her hunk of a headteacher Martin, she'll get to the bottom of the latest murder. She's good like that.
In this episode: Callum goes missing.
All rights reserved. Individual use only. Copyright Neworld Books Ltd.
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Written by S D Hudson
Performed by Stephanie Poppins
Music by Jean-Miles Carter
Published by Neworld Books

Transcript

Tubman's stern and the body in the broom cupboard. A Toppenstern mystery. Written by S. D. Hudson Performed by Stephanie Poppins. Music by John Miles Carter Chapter 6 The Founders Gallery at St. Ethelburg School ran along the third floor under a ceiling of flaking green paint. As Tuppence, Bartholomew and Alice Wheat travelled along, The floorboards creaked in different keys. Along one side, Tall windows looked out over the playing fields. Through them, Tuppence gazed at the grey slope of the moor, Her back to the various headmasters and mistresses who had taught at the school before her. They lined the wall in a rogues gallery. Martin Boners at the end. Doesn't he look nice in blue? " she said to herself. At the far end of the gallery, Between a rectangle of grey light, Stood a glass case on a mahogany plinth. Inside it, On a bed of faded plum velvet, Lay a dagger. There you are. Said Weed, With a satisfaction Tuppence hated. It was a slender, Ugly thing. Three small red stones had been set into the cross guard, Like drops of dried blood. A Bronx plaque below read, Presented to the school by Dame Ethelberg, 1887. Well, That's that then, Said Bart, Brushing a crumb of sponge from his shirt. Tuppence, However, Did not move. She stood very close to the glass, Her breath fogging it a little. She looked at the blade, Then she looked at the stones. She looked at the velvet which was dusty at the edges and bright in the middle. Where something had recently carefully been laid down. But she said, Look more closely. It's three stones, He said. Yes, Anne. Garnets they are, Three of them. According to Mr Bonus, Said Tuppence, The gardener's son chipped one out in 1989 and swallowed it for a bet. There were only ever two garnets in that cross guard, Two in a hole, With a bit of putty painted red every Christmas. She tapped the glass with one knuckle. That there is a copy. Utter nonsense, " said Miss Weed, Pushing her way through. Someone's been very busy putting in the missing stone, Said Tuppence, Ignoring her. She turned the pieces over in her mind one by one, Like Henry did at home when he was searching for seed. This was an antique dagger. Very old. It had been wiped or someone had handled it with gloves. There was a caretaker who was stealing on the side and keeping keys to everything. And this glass case looked like it had a new lock. And then there was Miss Alice Weed behind her, Who had inspected the gallery personally, She said, And who now stood there with her folder against her chest, White to the lips, Her lacquered nails pressed into the cardboard so hard the tabs had begun to bend. Miss Weed? " said Tuppence gently. When exactly was the last time you saw the original? I wouldn't know the original from a letter opener, " said Weed. Her deflection spoke volumes. Either she was hiding something or this was not what she was expecting. Then up rushed Inspector Tryhard just as this walkie-talkie burst into action. Control to Inspector Tryhard. Control to Inspector Tryhard. Sir, We've been to Boneless's office. The Carter boy's not there. Not there, He was meant to wait. Mr Boners said he left him outside his office with a tin of biscuits, Sir. But the cup's still warm and the window's open. There was a crackle and a breath. No one's seen Callum Carter since. Outside, Far in the distance, The farmer's quad bike had stopped. The sheep stood about in the drizzle looking mildly offended. And a single church bell tolled the quarter hour. On the other side of the glass, The three red stones winked at Tuppence. Said Weed, Snapping her folders shut. That settles it. That settles what exactly? Asked Tuppence. Innocent children do not climb out of windows, Mrs Stern. Not unless I got double maths, Said Bart with a smirk. We'd ignored him and Tuppence as they chuckled. Inspector, I would strongly advise and alert every officer in the district. This boy had motive, Said Weed. He had opportunity. And he's now fled the scene of an interview. Wasn't an interview, Said Tuppence. He was with Mr. Bones for tea and a biscuit. Aww, Said Tri-Heart who'd been standing very still. The protocol is. . . Nigel? Yes, Tuppence. He's just a young boy whose father was found with a dagger in his neck. And this morning somebody sat him in a headmaster's office and left him alone with his own thoughts. I'd probably have jumped out of the window too if I was in his position. Inspector Tryhard looked at Alice Weed. Then he looked at tuppence. Discreet alert, He said at last. Nothing with sirens, Okay? Weed looked disgusted. Oh, Ring Lord Heffingway, She moaned. I'm sure you will, " said Tubman sweetly. Do give him my regards. Tell him I'm sorry about the daffodils. What daffodils. Exactly, Said Tubbens, And she swept off down the gallery in her platform boots, Past the long dead headmistresses, Every one of them, Who looked as though she'd have preferred to see Weed arrested. Where are we going? Panted Bart as they got two flights down. I'm going out into the fresh air. That's not an answer to you. I'm thinking. Hadn't Callum said the last time they saw each other over their game of dots and boxes, He's gone much the same way as my mum? Hmm, He was thinking about his mother. He was suffering with his thoughts. Where would you go when you're suffering with your thoughts? The chapel, She said. The chapel? Said Bart. Yes, His mother's buried behind the chapel. Callum said as much more or less. That's why they came back to steeple bloodstead in the first place. But I thought you said only newcomers got it in the neck. As it were. Well, It's been a long time since they've been here. Callum was last here when he was born. So I guess that counts. Right, Said Bart, Digging into his chef's whites. A battered steel hip flask emerged. I guess I'm coming with you then. You don't need to. I can't be trusted with a notebook, But I can be trusted with a flask. It's the only thing I'm any good at under pressure, Besides trifle. Here, Have a sip. Bart unscrewed the lid and handed it to Tuppence. Don't look at me like that, It's for the lad. The old school chapel stood at the far end of the grounds, Hunched under a slate roof the colour of old Buta. Behind it, A low dry stone wall ran round a small and crooked graveyard, Where the headstones leaned together as if sharing gossip. This was where many of the previous residents of Steeple Bloodstead were laid to rest. At the side gate that opened out onto the lane, Tubman's notice was swinging open on its hinge. Small wet footprints led from it across the grass. She held up her hand and Bart stopped mid-puff. Let me speak to him alone, She said. He's only ever seen you waving a spatula manically. Fair enough, Said Bart. I'll take a pew here. Tuppence weaved her way between the leaning stones. Beloved wife, One said, Faithful servant, Said another, Gone to a better place. Somewhere behind the chapel, A wood pigeon cooed. And the rain ticked gently onto the roof slates. And there was Callum, Kneeling at the foot of a small grey headstone at the very back of the graveyard in the corner where the wall met the hedge. His blazer was soaked through and his tie, The one she'd lent him, Was hanging out of his pocket. Like a flag of surrender. In front of him laid on the wet grass were daffodils, Not one but dozens. Some were brown and papery, Flattened by months of weather. Some had gone to nothing but green stalks. A few only were fresh and yellow, Bright against the sky. Linda Carter, It said on the stone. Beloved mother taken too soon. Tuppence stopped a respectful distance away. Hello Callum. Callum didn't turn. I miss. Is it alright if I sit down? Only these platform boots are murder on my knees. If you want, But it's wet. I'm wearing merino wool, Darling. It's as good as waterproof. Callan couldn't help but laugh at her impression of Miss Weed. She lowered herself onto the low wall beside the grave, Arranged her skirt and said nothing for a while. This was an old trick of the trade. Just sit silently and wait for them to do the talking. He used to bring her a daffodil. So you can at last. Every month in winter. Don't ask me where he got them from. He'd go off for a day and come back smelling of dettol and fags. And then there'd be a daffodil on her grave. Only one, Never a bunch. Dad said a bunch was showing off. I don't really know why I did it. Probably guilt or something. Tuppence didn't move. Inside her blazer pocket, Her little black book felt as heavy as a paving slab. She was desperate to write down all she knew. But this was not the time. A single daffodil snapped clean, Not picked, Lying just inside the threshold. This was what the dying man had in his hand when the knife went in. A monthly appointment he'd never been late for. In all those years of drinking, Thieving, Shouting and generally being a bully, He'd never forgotten that. He'd gone to meet his murderer with a daffodil for his wife. It wasn't a good man, Miss, My dad, " said Callum. He was a thief and he was a drunk. But he got that right. You never miss that, Not once. No, Said Tuppence Jendi. I don't suppose he did. The woodpitching cooed again. Callum picked a dead stalk off the grass and began to shred it between his fingers. I did say what she said, You know, " he said, What we'd said in the corridor. I did say I'd kill him. I thought you might have done. I didn't mean it. It was just so he was in such a state miss he was shaking not shaky drunk but scared like he was had it all week And he was really horrible as well with it. He was checking the windows, He wasn't sleeping, He kept saying someone was going to find out. And they'd all find out and he'd have nothing. I didn't know what he was going on about. I said to him, Have you got something mixed up? You can't drag me into it. And he said I didn't understand and he was doing all this for me. Then he went on a right bender, So I had to stick up for myself, Didn't I? I said I'd kill him. And then after that. . . Someone did it anyway. And I've never even had a chance to say sorry. But I am sorry, Miss. Stop once weighted for the substitute pass. She thought about Mr Danforth's 14 witnesses, About a pile of tidy fairy lights, And she let it all fall quietly out of her head. Because none of that mattered to the boy in front of her. Callum, Look at me. He knew you didn't mean it. He knew you were a good lad. He was just wracked with guilt, That's all. He must have been to do what he did with the daffodils. But there's something else, Smith. Callum gave a huge ugly wet sniff and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. He told me last week if anything happened I was to give you this. Me. Tuppence couldn't believe what she was hearing, But he didn't even like me! He said you, Not them. He said her with the funny glasses. That's you, Miss. Everyone knows round here you're the only person who's any good at any detective work. But before she could answer, Tuppence was on her feet as the gate squealed. It was two constables followed by Inspector Tryhard. While Bart behind them. Looked sheepishly on.