Murder Repeated

by Lesley Cookman

  Ian sighed. ‘So anyone could have got in there?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Colin, ‘but I didn’t even know about that cellar door – or even the cellar. But there wouldn’t have been anything in there to steal. Did you find anything in there?’

  ‘Not really.’ Ian sighed again. ‘So far, nothing in the main cellar room except a little gilt chair.’

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘A chair?’ repeated Ben, Colin and Harry. Libby and Fran just looked at one another.

  ‘Libby?’ said Ian.

  Fran sighed. ‘It was me, Ian.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Ben and Harry. Colin looked puzzled.

  ‘And why didn’t you tell me?’ asked Ian.

  ‘Tell you what?’ Colin almost yelped. ‘Did you put it there, Fran?’

  ‘Nothing like that,’ said Ian. ‘Do you want to tell him, Fran?’

  ‘No. You tell him.’

  Ian was silent for a moment. Then he turned to Colin. ‘It’s like this.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake sit down,’ said Harry, and pulled forward another chair. ‘Do you want coffee or something?’

  ‘No, I can’t stay,’ said Ian, sitting down. ‘You see, Colin, Fran’s helped us out before. By us, I mean the police. She has a – well, I suppose you’d call it a gift.’

  ‘Or a curse,’ mumbled Fran.

  ‘A gift?’

  ‘Yes. You see, Fran can sometimes see things other people can’t.’

  ‘What? You mean...’ Colin’s eyes fairly bulged, ‘like, psychic?’

  ‘Yes,’ said everyone else.

  Colin sat back in his chair. ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘That’s what most people say,’ said Ian, ‘but it’s true. When you’ve seen it proved, you can’t help believing it.’

  ‘Proved?’

  ‘She’s saved people’s lives,’ said Harry simply. ‘I know, I didn’t believe it, either. Just take us on trust, mate.’ He turned to Fran. ‘Tell us, Fran.’

  ‘I didn’t tell you,’ said Fran, addressing Ian, ‘because I didn’t think it amounted to much. And I thought I should really have to report to Rachel – DS Trent – and she wouldn’t understand. I just saw this room, empty except for a little chair, and a rather confused image of a boy.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘A few days ago. I was out for dinner with Guy when it happened.’

  ‘So it wasn’t something happening right at that time?’

  ‘Couldn’t have been, could it?’

  ‘But we could have gone looking for a room with a chair,’ said Ian. ‘We might have found it sooner.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Fran, ‘but it wouldn’t have made any difference, would it? The – er, events - had already happened.’

  Ian sighed. ‘I suppose so. But if it happens again -’

  ‘Yes, I’ll tell you.’ She turned to Colin. ‘I’m sorry, Colin.’

  Colin looked confused. ‘What for? Oh, I don’t understand it, but that’s hardly your fault, is it?’

  ‘Well, there’s one thing,’ said Libby.

  ‘What?’ asked Ian.

  ‘It proves that the two bodies are linked. Fran saw the room with the chair, which you didn’t find until the second one was found, but she also saw the first body. Or the boy who it had been, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘That’s true, Ian,’ said Harry.

  Ian nodded. ‘It gives me something to work on. Even if I can’t tell DS Trent why!’

  ‘What about Inspector Maiden?’ asked Ben. ‘He knows about the moments.’

  ‘That’s what we call, them, Colin,’ said Libby. ‘Fran’s Moments.’

  Ian nodded. ‘Maybe. I can see I’m going to be getting more involved again.’ He stood up. ‘Even though I shouldn’t. And now I’d better get back to the station. I’ll see what I can do about an incident room.’

  ‘Well,’ said Harry, when Ian had gone, ‘you see what an influence Libby’s Loonies have on the local police force, Colin.’

  ‘It doesn’t work anywhere else, though,’ said Libby. ‘We went to the Isle of Wight once...’

  ‘And not all of the force in Kent, either,’ said Fran.

  ‘Big Bertha,’ agreed Ben.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Pet name for Superintendent Bertram,’ said Libby. ‘She doesn’t like me.’

  ‘She doesn’t like anybody, pet,’ said Harry. ‘Now, come on, you’ve been admitted to the charmed circle now, so what are you going to do?’

  ‘Charmed circle?’ asked Colin, who looked as though his head might be spinning.

  ‘I think he means that we’ve got Ian on side,’ said Fran, ‘although I’m not sure about that. And I really don’t see that there’s anything we can do.’

  ‘Until we have a bit more information,’ said Libby. ‘Preferably about this new body.’

  ‘Which is at least ten years old,’ said Ben. ‘That means we might know who it is. We were all here then.’

  ‘Oh, golly, yes!’ said Libby. ‘I never thought of that. Come to think of it, we were here when poor Ossie was killed, too. It’s not long ago, after all.’

  ‘But when did you ever see a gang of teenage boys prowling the streets of Steeple Martin?’ asked Harry. ‘That’s the only way you would have known about Ossie.’

  ‘They didn’t prowl the streets, by all accounts,’ said Libby, ‘they came out from Canterbury in someone’s car.’

  ‘Which they would have parked round the back,’ said Ben. ‘Which, as we know, isn’t overlooked.’

  ‘What about Dan and Moira?’ asked Fran. ‘Could they have seen anything from their house?’

  ‘It’s down a dip, isn’t it?’ said Libby, ‘so I doubt it.’

  ‘Is that the couple who live down Cuckoo Lane?’ asked Harry. ‘They come in here sometimes.’

  ‘We could go and have a look,’ said Libby. ’Wouldn’t hurt, would it?’

  ‘But not now,’ said Fran. ‘I must get home.’

  ‘Get hubby’s tea on the table?’ said Harry with a grin, and ducked. ‘Go on then, petal. We know where to find you.’

  After Fran’s departure the other four sat on round the coffee table. Colin’s thin face was troubled.

  ‘Don’t let it worry you, Colin,’ said Ben. ‘I’m sure it will all be cleared up soon enough. And Ian’s very good. He’ll get to the truth.’

  ‘And it might be unpleasant,’ said Colin.

  Libby, Ben, and Harry looked at each other and nodded.

  The following morning, Libby was sitting at the kitchen table with her second mug of tea when the landline rang.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you so early, Mrs Sarjeant,’ said DS Trent, ‘but I believe DCI Connell did say he would have to ask you to come in to make a formal statement?’

  ‘He did,’ said Libby, stifling a groan.

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know we’ve managed to set up an incident room here in the village again.’ DS Trent gave a little giggle. ‘I think we might as well open a permanent station here, don’t you?’

  Libby heaved a sigh of relief. ‘We do seem to get our fair share of bad luck,’ she said. ‘Church hall again?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s really convenient,’ said Rachel chattily. ‘You know that path along the back? Well, it goes all the way from the back of the Garden Hotel right past the back of the Church Hall!’

  ‘It does indeed,’ said Libby, amused. ‘And right out to Lendle Lane the other way. But you can’t get a vehicle along it, can you?’

  ‘Not a full-size one,’ said Rachel, ‘but they brought in a mini digger to clear the path and the area behind the hotel where the cellar door is.’

  ‘The pitch!’ gasped Libby. ‘Wonderful!’

  ‘The pitch?’

  ‘We told you – that’s why we there yesterday! To clear the bat and trap pitch.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Rachel had lost interest. ‘Anyway, could you come over this morning some time? We got most of the stuff in last night, and we�
��ve got a skeleton staff – oh.’

  Libby swallowed a laugh. ‘Right, I’ll be there. What about the others. Do you really want Fran – Mrs Wolfe – to come in from Nethergate?’

  ‘No, you and Mr Wilde will be fine. We’ve already been in touch with Mr Hardcastle.’

  ‘OK. I’ll get hold of Ben and we’ll see you later.’

  Ending the call, she thought for a moment, then rang the Manor estate office, where Ben would be at this time in the morning.

  ‘And do you think we ought to ring Colin?’ she said, after she’d relayed the message. ‘He might prefer to go with us.’

  ‘OK,’ said Ben, ‘I’ll do it. But we can’t keep babysitting him. I’ll ring you back.’

  But when he did, he sounded surprised.

  ‘We’re not needed,’ he said. ‘He’s going with his other babysitter.’

  ‘Eh?’ said Libby.

  ‘Mrs Mardle! They asked her in to answer some questions about the Garden, which I suppose they would, given that she’s the only one left in the village who worked there and might know something about it, and she called Colin. As he’d already been asked in, he’s coming round to collect her in about half an hour. I said we might as well all walk round together, so I’m coming home now.’

  Half an hour later, Colin knocked on the door of number seventeen.

  ‘She’s nervous,’ he said, nodding towards the open door of number sixteen.

  ‘Well, dear,’ said Jinny Mardle, appearing in the doorway in a turquoise cardigan and floral skirt, ‘I’ve never had anything to do with the police before.’ She pulled her yellow front door closed behind her and dropped the key into a large white handbag. Libby guessed it was her summer handbag, to be replaced by a sensible black or brown for the winter.

  ‘Nothing to worry about, Mrs Mardle,’ said Ben. ‘They’re very nice.’

  ‘If you say so dear,’ said Mrs Mardle, looking unconvinced. ‘Only you hear such things.’

  The other three exchanged glances over her head.

  They walked slowly down Allhallow’s Lane, Mrs Mardle clinging on to Colin’s arm. Yesterday’s rain had disappeared, and the sun shone brightly on lush green foliage, having already dried up the puddles.

  ‘I don’t know why they wanted to talk to me,’ Mrs Mardle went on. ‘You could have told them anything they wanted to know about the old Garden, dear, couldn’t you?’

  ‘I’ve told them all I could, Nanny,’ said Colin, ‘but you were there after I went away, so you probably know more than I do.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know anything about any bodies,’ she said querulously. ‘The idea.’

  Ben and Libby grinned at each other.

  The high street was busier than it had been yesterday, and Mrs Mardle was greeted by several people as they made their way along towards Maltby Close. As they turned into it, Flo appeared at her door.

  ‘Jinny!’ she said, removing the cigarette from her mouth. ‘Where are you off to, then?’ She gave Libby a suspicious look.

  ‘The police dear,’ said Mrs Mardle, a little proudly.

  ‘Blimey! What you done?’ Flo came forward and stood in their way.

  Libby sighed. ‘We’ve all got to give statements, Flo.’

  ‘Oh, about the new body, then, is it?’ she said, nodding knowingly. ‘Knew you’d be mixed up in it.’

  ‘Everyone knows about it, do they?’ said Ben. ‘Can’t keep anything quiet round here.’

  ‘Course not,’ Flo scoffed. ‘Anyway, it was on the local news last night. That mate of yourn – what’s ‘is name?’

  ‘Campbell McLean,’ said Libby resignedly. ‘And he’s not a mate.’

  The TV journalist had become acquainted with Libby and Fran some years before, and had, in fact, given them some help.

  Flo sniffed. ‘Yeah, ‘im. All right, then, s’pose you’d better get on.’ She stepped back and allowed them to carry on towards the church. They skirted it and waved at Beth, hovering outside.

  ‘See you when we’ve finished,’ called Libby.

  The church hall had been converted into an incident room before, so was familiar to Libby and Ben, but Mrs Mardle looked terrified. Rachel Trent came forward, assessed the situation and, with a friendly smile, held out her hand.

  ‘Mrs Mardle? How kind of you to come and help us.’

  Mrs Mardle gingerly took the proffered hand, looking surprised.

  ‘Mrs Sarjeant and Mr Wilde, the officer over there will take your statements.’ She nodded towards a desk on the other side of the room. ‘And Mr Hardcastle, DCI Connell will be along in a minute.’

  She led Mrs Mardle away towards her own desk and left Ben, Libby and Colin looking at one another.

  ‘Why -?’ began Colin.

  ‘I’m afraid the situation has become rather more serious, sir,’ said Inspector Maiden, appearing on one side of Colin.

  ‘The body,’ said Ian, coming up on the other side, ‘now appears to be over twenty years old. Dating from the time that you still lived here.’

  Chapter Twenty One

  Libby opened her mouth, but Ben’s hand on her arm kept her silent.

  ‘Sir?’ said Ian, gesturing Colin in front of him.

  DI Maiden turned away from his senior officer and gave Ben and Libby a friendly smile. ‘Perhaps you’ll come with me?’

  ‘I thought Rachel said that officer over there,’ said Libby.

  ‘Yes, he’s coming, too.’ Maiden ushered them towards a corner of the room partially screened off by movable notice boards. Ian had by this time piloted Colin into the kitchen area and closed the door.

  Libby and Ben took seats one side of a table, while Maiden and the other officer sat on the other. Maiden placed what looked like a fat mobile phone between them. Libby looked at it as though it might bite.

  ‘New interview recording equipment,’ said Maiden. ‘Quite a bit better than the old tape decks. And easier to set up in incident rooms.’

  ‘Er – yes.’ Libby cleared her throat.

  The interview began as most did, with the introduction of persons present, time and date. Then Maiden began.

  ‘Can you tell me exactly what happened yesterday at the Garden Hotel site? Mr Wilde?’

  Ben described their visit the previous day until the arrival of the first officer on the scene.

  ‘Do you agree with that, Mrs Sarjeant?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Nothing to add?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And what about Mr Hardcastle. How did he seem?’

  ‘Seem?’ Libby looked bewildered.

  ‘Yes. Was he behaving normally?’

  ‘He was exactly as we’ve come to know him,’ said Libby.

  ‘He was looking forward to getting the bat and trap pitch up and running again,’ said Ben. ‘Why?’

  ‘Ah, yes. The bat and trap pitch. Why was he so interested?’

  Ben frowned. ‘The same reason we all are. If it was restored, we could bring the game back here, as it’s being brought back all over Kent.’

  ‘Really?’ Maiden looked unconvinced.

  ‘You’ve heard of it, surely?” said Libby.

  Maiden shrugged.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said the other officer, earning himself a severe look from his superior. ‘I’ve joined my pub team.’

  ‘So Hardcastle had no other reason for wanting to join your expedition yesterday?’ persisted Maiden.

  ‘Why on earth should he?’ said Ben. ‘In fact, we decided together. He’s only here for a short time, so we wanted to see if we could get the pitch clear enough to have a scratch game before he headed back to Spain.’ Ben sighed. ‘Of course, we realise we won’t be able to do that now.’

  Maiden looked down at the desk. ‘Very well,’ he said after a moment. ‘That’ll be all. Interview terminated at...’ he glanced at the clock, ‘11.18.’

  ‘What do we do now?’ Libby asked Ben.

  Maiden and the other officer stood up.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said M
aiden, ‘but it had to be a formal interview.’

  ‘But I don’t understand,’ said Libby, although she was terribly sure that actually, she did, ‘why were you so interested in Colin?’

  The other officer excused himself and Maiden sighed. ‘It’ s what DCI Connell said. Forensics have confirmed that the body is female and over twenty years old - I mean it’s been hidden for over twenty years.’

  Libby nodded.

  ‘And do we know how old the female was?’ asked Ben/

  ‘The nearest that the pathologist would commit to was between eighteen and thirty.’

  Libby looked at Ben, who nodded.

  ‘What?’ Maiden said sharply.

  Libby tried to look innocent.

  ‘Just that it probably didn’t have anything to do with Colin Hardcastle,’ said Ben, who had obviously thought quickly, ‘because he’s gay.’

  ‘ What?’ said Maiden again.

  ‘Oh, didn’t you know?’ said Libby, still innocent.

  ‘No.’ Maiden frowned. ‘Right. Can you see yourselves out?’

  ‘We should probably wait for Mrs Mardle,’ said Ben. ‘Can we do that, do you think?’

  ‘Er – yes.’ Maiden looked round and failed to see a waiting area. ‘By the door.’

  Ben and Libby watched him go quickly to the kitchen area, knock and go in. A few seconds later he re-emerged followed by Ian, who glanced towards them and frowned. They began moving over to DS Trent’s desk, where Mrs Mardle sat with a cup of tea.

  ‘Finished?’ said Rachel. ‘Would you like to see Mrs Mardle home?’

  ‘We thought we would,’ said Libby.

  ‘What about Colin, dear?’ asked Mrs Mardle.

  ‘I think he’s still busy,’ said Rachel, just as Ian arrived at her desk.

  ‘Just a moment, please, Mrs Sarjeant, Mr Wilde,’ he said formally. ‘A word?’

  Libby sighed.

  Ushering them politely but firmly away from the desk, Ian said ‘Now.’

  ‘Now?’ echoed Ben.

  ‘You knew I knew Hardcastle was gay.’

  ‘Well, I thought you did,’ said Libby.

  ‘So what was it you thought you knew?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Inspector Maiden says you looked at each other and nodded. Then came up with this statement that he was gay. What was it you really meant?’