Mrs. Pargeter's Plot by Simon Brett Page A

way?’
    â€˜Really? Congratulations. When’s it due?’
    â€˜Oh, early days. Another five months to go.’
    â€˜That’s great news. Do congratulate your wife too, won’t you?’
    â€˜â€™Course I will.’
    â€˜And how long have you got to go now?’ Mrs Pargeter posed the question with delicate tact.
    â€˜Done seven years. Five more outstanding. Reckon I could be out in eighteen months, though – with good behaviour.’
    â€˜And that . . . won’t be a problem?’ This question was floated even more sensitively than the previous one.
    Keyhole Crabbe looked at her with reproach. ‘Mrs Pargeter, surprised you have to ask. Model prisoner, I am.’
    â€˜Yes. Yes, of course,’ said Mrs Pargeter. ‘Sorry.’ Hastily, she moved the conversation on. ‘By the way, did you hear that Fossilface O’Donahue was out?’
    â€˜Yeah, I heard.’ Keyhole Crabbe shook his head ruefully. ‘Also heard something about he was a reformed character.’
    â€˜Given up his evil ways, yes.’
    â€˜Heaven preserve us. If he’s as unsuccessful at being a goodie as he was at being a villain, we’ve all got problems.’
    â€˜He is actually planning to repay his debt to all the people he reckons he’s done wrong to. “Make restitooshun” is how he puts it.’
    â€˜Oh, blimey,’ Keyhole groaned.
    â€˜And he’s intending on each occasion to do it in some way that demonstrates his sense of humour.’
    â€˜His
what
? Fossilface O’Donahue’s sense of humour? That’s a contradiction in terms.’
    â€˜Well, he’s apparently undergone a major transformation while he was inside. Now he claims he’s got a real sense of humour.’
    â€˜I don’t know whether I dare ask how it manifests itself . . .’
    â€˜I think he’s actually got a bit of work to do on the fine tuning.’ And Mrs Pargeter outlined to Keyhole Crabbe Fossilface’s amusing attempt to repay the ‘monkey’ that he owed her late husband.
    At the end of her narration, Keyhole groaned again. ‘Oh God. And you say he actually mentioned me by name?’
    â€œFraid so. What does he need to make “restitooshun” to you for?’
    The prisoner grimaced. ‘He done the dirty on me few years back when we was doing a bank job. Locked me in one of the vaults when the rest of the gang scarpered. So I was waiting there when the police arrived. Dead embarrassing for me of all people, as you can imagine.’
    â€˜Why particularly for you?’
    â€˜Well, I’m supposed to be this ace escape merchant, aren’t I? But Fossilface had nicked all my picklocks and other gear, so I couldn’t do nothing.’
    â€˜But could you have got out of a bank vault even if you had got your equipment with you?’
    Keyhole Crabbe shrugged lightly. “Course I could.’
    â€˜So he certainly owes you something.’
    â€˜Oh yes. “Restitooshun.” Dear God, I hate to think what form it’ll take.’
    â€˜Maybe he’ll just pay you some compensation money . . .’ Mrs Pargeter suggested. ‘Maybe he’ll give up these elaborate ways of paying people back.’
    â€˜I’d like to believe you,’ said Keyhole Crabbe gloomily, ‘but once an idea gets lodged in old Fossilface O’Donahue’s head, it takes a bloody road-drill to dislodge it.’
    â€˜Oh dear.’
    He sighed. ‘Well, I’ll just have to wait and see what happens. I’ll be on my guard, though. Who else is on Robin-bloody-Hood’s hit-list?’
    â€˜Truffler, Hedgeclipper, Concrete and Gary certainly.’
    â€˜You and all?’ said Keyhole to the chauffeur.
    â€˜Yes,’ Gary confirmed with foreboding.
    â€˜What wrong did he do you then?’
    â€˜Sabotaged a getaway car I was driving. Could’ve been bloody nasty. I