Galen shrugged.
“All I can say is that they must be wrong on their time. I was in and out of the church in five minutes. I had plenty of time.”
“And you’re going to stick with that story?” asked Frances.
“It’s the truth,” he said.
“The truth as you see it to protect your children,” she said.
Galen shrugged.
“I’ll not be changing it.”
“How did you know Father Fannon would be taking confession at ten at night?” asked Frances.
“Because I’d rung him up earlier in the evening and asked him to hear me,” said Galen.
“But you said you pretended to be Colin Lewis,” said Holme.
“That’s right, I did.”
Frances shook her head and turned to look at Holme and Harmonie. She was quite cross.
“I hope the two of you don’t think you’ve gotten away with anything,” she said. “I know you did it, even if it can’t be proven, and I can understand why you did it. But if I catch wind that the two of you have committed any crime whatsoever, I’ll be sure that the full weight of the law is put upon you like a ton of bricks. Am I clear?”
Holme held her gaze, Harmonie couldn’t, but neither of them said anything.
“They haven’t done anything, Frances, in spite of what you might like to believe.”
“I think I’m finished here, Chief Inspector,” said Frances to Pearce. He nodded at Sergeant Noble who arrested Galen Teel.
Frances and Florence walked out of the pub into the dimming light of the coming night.
“You all right with that, Frances?” asked Pearce.
She looked across at the first twinkling stars visible in the sky of this not yet packed away day.
“I suppose I have to be. Justice has been served, hasn’t it? In more ways than one.”
“I’m quite happy with the outcome, Devlin,” said Florence. “I’ve known the Teels for a long time. Even though Holme and Harmonie may have committed murder, they’re not criminals. They’re good children.”
“Let’s hope you’re right about that,” said Pearce. “One would hate to have to ruin a whole family.”
“How about joining us for a pint at The Wet Whistle?” asked Florence.
“I’d love to, but the work for me has just begun on this case. Enjoy yourselves.”
Frances and Florence got into Florence’s car and started off for the other pub in Puddle’s End.
“I feel as if justice was served, Fran. I really do,” said Florence, glancing over at her friend as she drove leisurely towards their destination. Frances turned and looked at her. She smiled.
“Yes it was, Flo. Yes it was.”
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I write two mystery series. A cozy mystery series and a hardboiled detective mystery series.
Lady Marmalade Mysteries:
The charming and warm Lady Marmalade is the Baroness of Sandown. But don’t let that full you, she also loves solving crime and crafting the best ever marmalade jam you’ll taste.
Check her out for some cozy, warm mysteries set between the two World Wars. You’ll find cameos by some of history’s greatest characters like Gandhi and Lord Mountbatten!
Anthony Carrick Mysteries:
The tough drinking, hard talking Anthony Carrick is an ex-LAPD homicide cop with a conflicted past. From the same mold of Sam Spade and Mike Hammer, he enjoys seeking justice for the downtrodden. Sometimes that means using his fists.
He’s a painter in his spare time and lives with a one-eyed rescued cat called Pirate. For fans of noir and hardboiled fiction, this is your stiff, tall drink of fun.
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