The Jigsaw Puzzle Read Free Page B

effort. Will be returned if at all possible. Send to the Salthaven Messenger Box 108’.
    â€˜The war effort?’ exclaimed Penny aloud, thoroughly astonished. ‘How on earth could jigsaws help with the war effort?’
    The next day, dressed in a smart skirt and jacket, with a briefcase swinging from her hand and a pleasant expression on her face, Penny walked boldly into the reception area of The Salthaven Messenger and asked to view the archives. The girl behind the counter blinked at her. Her gaze slid around the foyer as if seeking help. ‘Third floor,’ she said at last. ‘There’s CCTV.’
    â€˜I’m glad to hear it.’ Penny clipped a visitor badge to her lapel and headed for the lift, wishing she knew what she was looking for. This is your fault, Aunt Bridget, she said silently. Going on at me to find out about the puzzle. Why not just phone me and tell me yourself? When she pushed open the door marked ARCHIVES, she grew even less confident. It was all stacks and filing cabinets and it smelt of very old dust. Oh, help. What on earth was she doing here? She didn’t even know where to start.
    Then she heard someone in the next bay. That was a relief. She could ask how to look up newspapers for 1943. But rounding the corner, her question died on her lips. Sprawled in an office chair, legs stretched in front of him, was Leo!
    â€˜You!’ she said.
    He stood and gestured towards the newspaper spread out on the desk. ‘Hi there. I thought you might turn up. Is this what you’re looking for?’
    Penny’s head whirled. She looked at the newspaper without really taking it in. The print was blocky. Old fashioned. Then her vision steadied. Two thirds of the way down a page for 14 th March 1942 was the twin of the advert in her envelope. ‘Wanted – photographs or prints …’ She met his eyes, shaken. ‘How did you know?’
    Suddenly he smiled. It made him younger, more approachable. ‘I snooped inside the jigsaw envelope while you were washing your hands at the Bring & Buy yesterday. Sorry.’
    Penny was bewildered. ‘But why?’
    He shrugged. ‘I’m a journalist. It’s an occupational hazard. Now – why would jigsaws help with war work?’
    â€˜I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to look in the paper. I thought there might be a clue.’ He was a reporter? Why hadn’t he said so?
    Leo shook his head, looking stimulated by the riddle rather than upset. ‘It doesn’t help,’ he said. ‘The advert ran every day for a fortnight, then stopped. Pity we can’t trace the original owner of the photo.’
    â€˜Oh, that’s easy enough,’ said Penny. ‘I’ll ask the stallholder who it was that donated the jigsaw.’
    It was Leo’s turn to look surprised. ‘Will she know?’
    â€˜You really aren’t from around here, are you?’ said Penny, chuckling. ‘This is Salthaven. Somebody will know, even if Mrs Lane doesn’t. What I don’t understand is why you want to find out.’
    He smiled at her disarmingly. ‘It would make a good story for the paper, don’t you think? ‘How Salthaven Won The War’ . Come on. No time like the present. Have you got a car?’
    Penny considered him as he hurried her out of the building. For a start, she didn’t trust that smile. Secondly, Leo was full of energy, something she didn’t normally associate with the laconic local press. And she wasn’t quite sure how she’d got herself involved with him. ‘No need,’ she said as he turned towards Market Street car park. ‘Mrs Lane will be at the library. It’s the over-60s drop-in this morning.’
    â€˜Local knowledge,’ he murmured reverently. ‘I love it.’
    Despite her misgivings, Penny started to grin. She liked this version of Leo better than yesterday’s man of mystery. This Leo