‘You were ages!’ complained Libby. ‘What did you find?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Fran with a frown. ‘Well, I am sure, but I’m not sure what it means.’
‘Oh, come on! What did you see?’
Fran fastened her seat belt and started the engine. ‘A basket of washing,’ she said.
‘A basket –? Well, what’s wrong with that? Where was it?’
‘In a sort of porch at the back. There’s a washing line in the back garden, and it looks as though this washing had been taken off it.’
‘So? Maybe he thought it would rain before he came back?’
‘Whenever have you known a man do that? They usually forget all about it and let it stay out all night.’
‘That’s true,’ acknowledged Libby, ‘at least, the ones I’ve known do. But I don’t suppose they’re all the same.’
‘The washing in that basket was folded,’ said Fran. ‘And on top was a bra and a pair of tights. David Fletcher is not alone in that house.’
Chapter Twenty-eight
‘Estelle?’ said Libby.
Fran shrugged and turned left on to the Nethergate Road. ‘It would explain where she was.’
‘On the other hand,’ said Libby, ‘it could simply be that he’s brought a girlfriend down here for a spot of non-connubial bliss.’
‘Could be,’ said Fran. ‘I take it you don’t want to tell Ian about it?’
‘No, I don’t!’ said Libby. ‘I’m not getting into more trouble.’
Fran gave her an amused smile. ‘That’s not like you.’
‘I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m such an idiot,’ said Libby self-righteously. ‘I’m perfectly normal and well-behaved.’
‘You make yourself sound like a puppy,’ said Fran.
Libby pondered on the twin subjects of Estelle’s ancestry and David’s living arrangements as she drove home. She decided that Fran’s theory of Dominic knowing about the reliquary and therefore getting in touch with his ex-wife when he found out it was going to be at the Abbey was sound, but David’s connection with Estelle, particularly if she was hiding out in his cottage with him was a complete mystery. Unless – she swerved slightly as a thought struck her. Unless David and Estelle were related.
She thought back to Andrew’s revelations. He was going to look into the rest of Albert and May Glover’s descendants. Estelle didn’t appear to have any siblings, but she could have cousins. And those cousins could well know about the reliquary and feel they had a right to it. Excited, she pulled the car into the side of the road and found her mobile.
‘Fran, what about cousins?’
‘What?’ Libby could hear clattering in the background and assumed Fran was preparing dinner. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Cousins. Could David be a descendant, too? A cousin or something?’
‘Hell, I don’t know! And where are you?’
‘Going home. I’m almost opposite the turning to the Tyne Chapel. I just thought it could explain everything.’
‘Go home, Libby,’ said Fran wearily. ‘I’m sure Andrew will find out if David has any connections to the family. And at the moment I’m more worried about why I felt it was so urgent to go to that cottage.’
‘OK, sorry,’ said Libby. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow evening.’
‘I’ll come early,’ said Fran.
Libby cast a glance to her left, where, across the fields and at the top of a small hill, stood the infamous Tyne Chapel. She shuddered, put the car into gear and set off for home.
She found Ben chopping vegetables in the kitchen and relayed the events of the afternoon while making herself a cup of tea.
He threw the contents of his chopping board into a sizzling pan and frowned.
‘Not like you to want to stay on the side of the law,’ he said, ‘but you can’t help but be worried about Fran.’
‘What, her feeling that it was urgent?’
‘Exactly. Look how many times those feelings of hers have been right.’
‘We can hardly go to Ian with that sort of information,’ said Libby. ‘But I’m going to ring Andrew and find out if he can look David Fletcher up and see if he has a connection to the family.’
While Libby rang Andrew, Ben finished his stir-fry and dished it up. ‘TV dinner?’ he suggested when she came back into the kitchen. ‘The news will be on.’
They took their plates into the sitting room and settled down to watch the news just as Libby’s mobile rang.
‘Where are you?’ asked Ian peremptorily.
‘Eating my supper,’ said Libby, with a mouthful of bean sprouts.
‘Oh.’ There was a pause. ‘Sorry – I don’t know why, but I thought you might be out somewhere.’
‘What is it, Ian?’
‘Since we heard from Andrew earlier we’ve been searching for Estelle Butcher and she’s completely vanished from the face of the earth. We even went to Fletcher’s cottage in case she was there, but there was no one there at all.’
‘David’s at Susannah’s rehearsing and having supper,’ said Libby. ‘I spoke to him this afternoon. Did you go round to the back of the cottage?’
‘What? What do you mean, the back? I sent a couple of officers out there, I assumed they knew what they were doing. Why do you ask? Oh, no. Don’t tell me you went?’
‘No,’ said Libby hastily, hoping she wasn’t about to get Fran into trouble. ‘But Fran had one of her feelings so we went out there. And Fran went to look round. I stayed in the car,’ she added virtuously.
‘And? What then?’
‘Fran saw a basket of laundry with women’s clothes in it. At the back of the house.’
‘Good God!’ exploded Ian. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘That’s rich!’ Libby was indignant. ‘Think what you would have said if we just phoned up and said we saw women’s clothing at David’s cottage. It’s only because you can’t find Estelle and you know there’s a link between them that you’re angry.’
‘Sorry.’ There was a pause. ‘So, anything else?’
‘No. Except that I asked Andrew if David Fletcher could be another member of the Beaumont-Tollybar family. He’s going to look into it. Listen, Ian, you won’t go and drag David out of Susannah’s house, will you? The poor girl has nothing to do with any of this.’
‘After what you’ve told me, Libby, I can hardly wait around until he decides to go home. I shall ring him and ask him to meet me at his cottage.’
‘I suppose that will do,’ said Libby. ‘I hope you don’t find anything sinister.’
‘Like Estelle Butcher’s body, you mean?’ said Ian. ‘So do I.’
‘Oh, bugger,’ said Libby, as she ended the call. ‘I’d better warn Fran.’
‘Send her a text, then you can at least eat a bit of your supper while it’s hot,’ said Ben.
But Fran, of course, wasn’t content with a text, and called back immediately.
Libby sighed, put down her fork and explained.
‘Well, at least he’s looking into it. I shall be prepared for a telling-off,’ said Fran.
‘Come off it, he never tells you off.’
‘We’ll see,’ said Fran, and left Libby to eat her rapidly cooling supper.
All evening Libby waited for Ian to call and tell her what had happened, but both phones remained silent.
‘I doubt if he feels he needs to let you know,’ said Ben. ‘You aren’t on the “need to know” list, even if you did give him the information.’
‘I feel used,’ said Libby.
Ben kissed her cheek. ‘Never mind, love. Would you like a hot chocolate or a whisky?’
‘What do you think?’ Libby punched him on the arm.
Wednesday limped by twice as slowly as it should. Libby heard from neither Ian, David or Susannah. She called Fran at lunchtime, who hadn’t heard either.
‘Not even the telling-off?’ said Libby.
‘No, nothing. I’ll call if I do, otherwise I’ll see you at
half past seven. You did phone some of the others, didn’t you?’
‘Oh, hell, I forgot. I’ll do it now. Do you think I need to, though? David might have been locked up by now.’
‘I’d do it, in case. Susannah might turn up on her own.’
Duly summoned, several soloists, mainly the comedy performers, turned up just before half past seven. Libby sat on the edge of the stage anxiously staring at the auditorium doors. At exactly seven thirty, they swung open and Susannah came in, chatting brightly to David. Libby exchanged glances with Fran and stood up.
‘This really good of you,’ she said, ‘I hope it wasn’t any trouble, Susannah?’
‘Not at all. I’m enjoying this, you know.’
‘Thank you, too, David, and for bringing Susannah.’ Libby swallowed nervously, hoping she sounded normal.
‘Pleasure. As I told you, we did a bit of rehearsing yesterday and she and Emlyn gave me supper, so the least I can do is give her a lift.’
‘Even if supper was curtailed somewhat?’ said Susannah with a laugh.
Libby’s insides clenched. ‘Oh?’
‘The police rang me,’ said David, taking the covers off the drum kit. ‘There was an intruder at the cottage I’m renting. I had to go and check.’
‘And was there?’ asked Fran, who had come up beside Libby.
‘No. They made me open up and check all through, but nothing.’
‘So who reported it?’ asked Libby.
‘No idea. Someone had been seen prowling around the outside and in the back garden,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Nothing to steal, anyway.’
‘That was kind of Ian,’ muttered Libby, as she and Fran moved to seats in the auditorium.
‘Kind?’
‘I asked him not to pull Ian out of Susannah’s and involve her. And he didn’t.’
‘Quite clever, really,’ agreed Fran. ‘And they got the chance to check the inside of the cottage.’ She shook her head. ‘And I don’t get any sense of impending doom hanging around him.’
‘No. He seems very cheerful. Perhaps we were wrong.’
‘About him and Estelle being in cahoots?’
‘Well, yes, in a way. After all, he could have simply linked up with her because her husband had been killed at the same time as the attack on his wife.’
‘Ex in both cases, and how could he have linked up with her?’
‘Oh, I don’t know! I’m talking rubbish, aren’t I?’
‘I don’t know,’ sighed Fran. ‘After misreading the signs yesterday, I don’t know what to think.’
Libby turned to look at her friend. ‘You felt it was urgent to go there right at that moment, didn’t you. It could easily be that something was happening then, but it was gone before we arrived.’
‘David killed Estelle and got rid of the body in about fifteen minutes? Not very likely.’
Libby frowned. ‘You still think it was to do with Estelle?’
‘It’s the only thing that made any sense.’ Fran turned her attention to the stage. ‘Look, he’s really fitting in up there.’
David was following Bob the Butcher’s performance of a comic song intently, putting in sound effects at the appropriate moments.
Libby shook her head. ‘I can’t believe he’s mixed up in anything.’
‘No.’ Fran sighed again. ‘If only I could get rid of this niggle in my head, I’d like to forget all about it.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said Libby, ‘but don’t forget Andrew’s still trying to find out about the families for us.’
‘And for Ian.’ She laughed. ‘How many times have we said we’ll bow out of one of Ian’s cases and then been tempted back in?’
‘A lot. Because we’re nosy. At least, I am,’ said Libby, standing up. ‘Come on, let’s go and do our stuff.’
At the end of the rehearsal, Susannah called over to Libby.
‘Don’t you all go for a drink after rehearsal? I’m sure Jane told me.’
‘Yes,’ said Libby warily.
‘Can we join you? I’ve got a late pass.’
‘Of course,’ said Libby.
‘The more the merrier,’ said Ben. ‘I expect Harry will come in if he’s finished at the restaurant. You remember Harry? Peter’s partner?’
‘How could I forget,’ laughed Susannah.
‘We’ll see you down there,’ said Libby. ‘Most of the others go, too. We’ve just got to lock up.’
With a wave, David and Susannah left. Peter, Ben, Fran and Libby looked at each other.
‘Is he still trying to find things out?’ asked Peter. ‘Do we still need to be careful?’
‘I think so,’ said Fran. ‘After all, we know now there’s some kind of link with Dominic’s wife.’
‘But he still doesn’t know anything about Martha,’ said Ben. ‘Only that she was attacked. But not who she is.’
‘We think so, but does Estelle know? Would she have told him?’
‘Estelle only knows about Dominic, nothing else,’ said Libby. ‘And whatever it is she was trying to find.’
‘We’ll just have to keep quiet, then,’ said Peter.
‘Oh, my God!’ said Libby. ‘Patti and Anne will be at the pub!’
‘And they know all about it,’ said Fran.
‘But he wouldn’t talk to them, would he?’ said Peter.
‘You never know,’ said Libby. ‘We’d better get down there and warn them.’
Chapter Twenty-nine
Libby’s heart sank as she walked into the pub and saw David and Susannah at the same table as Patti and Anne, deep in conversation.
Anne looked up with a wide smile on her face. ‘Libby, isn’t this amazing? Susannah and I used to be in the same choir when we were at school!’
‘Really?’ said Libby weakly. ‘Did you know one another well?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Susannah, smiling fondly at Anne. ‘Best friends, although we didn’t go to the same school, just the same choir, but the choir was quite well known, and we used to go abroad and tour the country, so we spent most of the school holidays together.’
Ben appeared with drinks and bent to kiss Patti’s cheek.
‘How was the holiday?’ he asked.
‘Wonderful,’ sighed Patti. ‘But very hot.’
‘Where did you go?’ asked David.
Patti launched into a description of the villa, the estate and the food which kept the conversation away from dangerous areas, while Susannah and Anne caught up on each other’s lives.
‘And you met Patti when you were at uni?’ asked Susannah, when they’d almost come up to date.
‘Before she did her theology course, yes,’ said Anne.
‘Theology?’ Susannah’s eyebrows rose, and David turned his head.
‘Yes.’ Anne grinned mischievously. ‘My Patti’s a vicar.’
Libby shot a warning look across the table to where Peter was sitting next to Patti.
‘A vicar!’ David looked at Patti. ‘Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever met a lady vicar before.’
Suddenly, there was tension round the table. Susannah and Anne were obviously oblivious, but Libby could see the signs in everyone else. Fran, who was sitting between Peter and Ben, caught her eye and gave a minute shrug.
‘So, were you involved in the play at the Monastery?’ David asked.
‘Er – not directly,’ said Patti, looking across at Libby with a plea in her eyes. ‘Was I, Libby?’
‘No,’ said Libby, thinking frantically. ‘Only that you told us the story that formed the basis of it.’
‘And I was very grateful,’ said Peter, taking over smoothly. ‘I haven’t written a play for the theatre for years and it was a great opportunity.’
‘So none of you were actually involved with the Monastery beforehand?’ said David.
‘No,’ said Ben, watching David’s face. ‘And of course, the Monastery is a ruin. It just happens to be attached to an Abbey.’
Libby held her breath.
‘Oh, yes, the
Abbey. That was where someone was attacked wasn’t it?’
‘I believe so,’ said Peter, ‘but as I’ve said before, we’d finished by then.’
‘But it was one of your actors who was murdered?’
‘Sadly, yes,’ said Libby, ‘but we know very little about either him or the murder.’
Susannah had clearly picked up on the atmosphere and pushed her chair back.
‘I’m sorry to be a party pooper, folks, but I don’t want to push my luck and stay out too late. Do you mind, David?’
‘No, of course not.’ David swallowed the last of his drink and stood up. ‘Good to meet you, ladies,’ he said to Patti and Anne, and smiled round at the rest of them. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Silence fell as they watched him leave with Susannah.
‘What was all that about?’ asked Patti, as the door closed behind them.
A collective breath was let out.
‘He’s the ex-husband of Martha,’ said Libby. ‘And he’s in touch with the ex-wife of Dominic.’
Patti looked horrified. ‘Oh, my God! Did I say anything wrong?’
‘No, because you very sensibly realised there was an issue and passed it to Libby,’ said Fran. ‘And we don’t know why he’s so interested, just that he tried to see Martha in hospital and has made enquiries about her under her real name of Cornelia Fletcher. He doesn’t know about her new name or occupation.’
‘Complicated,’ said Anne. ‘So in future, we don’t talk about the Abbey, the Monastery or Catherine?’
‘Not when he’s around,’ said Libby. ‘Ian’s looking into it.’
‘He’ll get to the bottom of it,’ said Patti. ‘As long as you give him a hand.’
Ben and Peter laughed. ‘He doesn’t have an option,’ said Peter.
Everyone left soon after that, and Ben and Libby strolled back up the high street arm in arm.
‘He was really pushing tonight, wasn’t he?’ said Libby. ‘What is it that he’s after?’
‘It couldn’t be the reliquary itself, could it?’ said Ben, rather diffidently.
‘But it wasn’t stolen!’
Murder in the Monastery (Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery series) Page 21