Image description: The YeastEnders village of Walnutford, with baked-goods characters gathered in Almond Square outside The Queen Victoria Sponge.
The white van sat silently across Almond Square.
Nobody inside the Queen Victoria Sponge moved.
“Well,” said Dot Crumble eventually, “this is exciting.”
Sticky Nick pulled her away from the window.
“Ma, this isn’t a game.”
“I know. Games usually have biscuits.”
Rye-vita watched the van.
“Who’s inside?”
“No idea.”
“You recognised it.”
“I recognised the message.”
Dotty Crumble looked at her father.
“You said you weren’t one of them.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are they following you?”
Nick hesitated.
Peggy Cherry Bakewell sighed.
“Oh, here we go.”
Suddenly, the van started.
It rolled slowly around Almond Square and disappeared into Crumble Lane.
Rye-vita grabbed her coat.
“I’m following it.”
Nick blocked the door.
“No.”
Rye-vita stared at him.
“Move.”
“If they wanted you following them, they’d have left a map.”
From outside came a frantic knocking on the window.
A croissant was waving both arms.
Peggy opened the door.
The croissant tumbled inside.
“Lock it!”
Peggy looked at him.
“This is a pub, not Fort Bakewell.”
“Please!”
Nick went pale.
“Carl?”
Crusty Carl stared at him.
“Nick.”
Rye-vita’s crumb notebook appeared immediately.
“You two know each other?”
Carl glanced nervously towards the windows.
“Unfortunately.”
Nick folded his arms.
“What are you doing in Walnutford?”
“Trying not to get flattened.”
“By who?”
Carl laughed.
“Take a wild guess.”
Peggy locked the door.
“Right. Somebody start explaining before I lose patience.”
Carl lowered his voice.
“I worked deliveries for the Buttered Bunch.”
Dotty looked at Nick.
Nick shook his head.
“Don’t.”
Carl ignored him.
“Flour, sugar, baking supplies. At first, that’s all I thought it was.”
Rye-vita leaned forward.
“And then?”
“Then I noticed the paperwork.”
“What about it?”
“Half the businesses didn’t exist. Others existed but hadn’t ordered anything. Same vans, different names. Goods moved from bakery to bakery until nobody knew where they’d started.”
Rye-vita’s pencil flew across the page.
“The old flour mill?”
Carl nodded.
“One of their storage points.”
Peggy frowned.
“Storage for what?”
Carl looked at Nick.
“Tell them.”
Nick said nothing.
Carl reached inside his coat and pulled out a folded delivery sheet.
“I took this before I left.”
Rye-vita opened it.
Rows of deliveries filled the page.
Crumbford.
Walnutford.
Several towns she recognised from her investigation.
Then one entry caught her eye.
QUEEN VICTORIA SPONGE.
Peggy snatched the sheet.
“I haven’t ordered from any of these people.”
“I know,” said Carl.
Rye-vita pointed farther down.
Another name appeared repeatedly.
N. CRUMBLE.
Dotty stared at her father.
Nick’s face hardened.
“That isn’t what you think.”
“What is it, then?” asked Dotty.
Nick looked towards Carl.
“You shouldn’t have brought that here.”
Carl gave a bitter laugh.
“That’s what Bruno said.”
Rye-vita stopped writing.
“Bruno?”
“Bruno Brioche.”
Nick closed his eyes.
Peggy looked between them.
“And who the bloody hell is Bruno Brioche?”
Carl swallowed.
“The man running the Buttered Bunch.”
Outside, something struck the pub window.
Everyone jumped.
A small flour sack had landed on the pavement.
On its side were two white letters.
BB.
Nick stared at Carl.
“They know you’re here.”
Carl went pale.
Then a mobile phone inside his coat began to ring.
He looked at the screen.
One word appeared.
BRUNO.