‘I saw that. We’re being watched. Which means they’re waiting for us. Are you certain we’re not in for a grilling ourselves?’
‘That’s the routine,’ Alex said, waving at Harriet in the window of their upstairs sitting room. ‘But no, I’m not sure they aren’t just popping to find out something about us. We’re old enough to manage that without having nervous breakdowns.’
The window opened a crack. ‘Door’s open. Come on up. Tea ready when you are. Battenberg and Eccles freshly delivered. And some of your Bourbon biscuits, Tony.’
‘Thank you,’ Alex and Tony called back together.
‘Bag of books at the bottom of the stairs. Take them or leave them. Up to you.’ Harriet snickered as she shut the window again.
‘That had better be as snide as it gets,’ Tony said, although he couldn’t suppress a grin.
Inside, the two cottages had been knocked into one. The small kitchen was only intended for making hot tea and coffee and heating pies or occasionally soup. A great array of cakes and pastries was delivered fresh from George’s Bakery each day.
Decorated with a crocheted antimacassar that dipped to many points, a shelf ran around the walls to hold books, mostly used, hand-knitted items, teapots complete with cozies used as occasional bookends, knitted animals and dolls, and myriad small china or glass ornaments. Every table was different, antique and for sale, as were the tablecloths made by local needle workers. The place did a brisk business every day from three to six although appointments could be made to view items on sale at other times.
‘What’s keeping you,’ Mary called down. ‘Oliver’s getting impatient.’
Their rangy tabby cat didn’t give a fig for anyone but the sisters. ‘Coming,’ Alex said and picked up the promised bag of books before climbing the stairs with Tony behind her.
As usual, Mary sat in an armchair facing the window. All of the overstuffed furniture, mostly in shades of deep pink or red, was covered with slightly faded velvet. The couch sagged in each of its three possible seats. A fire brightened the room.
‘Sit down,’ Mary said. ‘Tea’s on its way.’ She was looking the wrong way to see her younger sister roll her eyes while carrying a teapot in one hand and dangling a tiered cake plate by its top ring with the other.
Harriet set her burdens on a much polished tea trolley and started pouring milk into the bottoms of cups. ‘This is as pleasant as our meeting is likely to get,’ she said, ignoring the cat, Oliver, who had appeared from deep in the fireplace nook when he heard the approach of potential nibbles.
Alex looked at Tony who shook his head, she presumed because he thought it best to let Harriet continue without prompting.
Tea was passed around, cakes and biscuits selected for tiny plates to balance precariously on the knee.
‘Now,’ Mary said. ‘How much do you know?’
‘About what?’ Tony was quick to respond.
Let him think he was in charge. She knew how to pick her battles.
‘We’ve got a murderer on the loose again.’
‘We certainly do.’ Oliver had arrived to swish around Tony’s legs. Despite much tutting, he gave the cat a crumb.
‘Now Vivian Seabrook’s gone.’ Harriet lined up tiny morsels of Eccles cake along the side of her plate. No mystery about who those were intended for.
‘Who came up with this brilliant deduction?’ Alex said. Her stomach had already knotted despite skepticism at the announcement.
Mary took off her thick glasses and polished them with a lace-edged handkerchief. ‘We think it’s starting all over again. We even wonder if there’s some connection to the other murders.’
‘Not possible.’ Tony finished his cake and picked up a biscuit. He faced them all. ‘If anyone goes off in that direction it’ll only muddy the waters.’
‘That’s what I said.’ Harriet didn’t look at her sister. ‘I said the only disturbing thing – apart from the obvious – is that here we are again with people dropping like flies around Folly.’
‘One person.’ Alex put her teacup and uneaten cake aside. ‘So why do you think Vivian’s missing?’
‘She isn’t around here, that’s all.’ Mary raised her shoulders in a decidedly huffy way.
‘What’s being done to find her?’
‘Well,’ Mary said. ‘That’s the other thing. Winifred … someone said the police won’t take any interest at all. They’re ignoring the whole thing.’
Sighing hugely, Harriet went to the window and looked toward St Aldwyn’s Church. ‘They aren’t ignoring it. They’re trying to keep their movements a secret.
They probably have Vivian themselves. There’s a rumor she was seen in the back of one of those horrid police cars being driven out of Folly.’
‘She could have been arrested,’ Mary added with gusto.
‘Why didn’t you say that first?’ Tony’s words hung for a long time.
TWELVE
They had taken over the snug at the Black Dog again, although since they couldn’t kid themselves they were off duty, and it was too late for lunch, Dan O’Reilly and Bill Lamb made do with coffee.
‘I could kill a beer,’ Bill said. ‘How long d’you think it’ll be before someone thinks up an excuse to come in here?’
‘Any time now, we can hope.’ Dan had let the two resident dogs in from their spot by the bar fire. ‘I’d rather be out there but we’ve got more privacy here. If someone wants to talk to us, they’ll be more likely to approach us in here. Anyway, anything’s better than that parky parish hall. I’d hoped never to see the inside of the place again. I keep expecting rain to come through the roof. Can’t even get any peace from the local plods. In and out and arguing about who’s on break.’
‘If it wasn’t cold and wet all over the country, I’d say this place was cursed with foul weather.’ Picking up his mug, Bill drank his cooling coffee morosely. ‘You don’t think we’re looking at any connection to the bother earlier in the winter, do you?’
They had closed the hatch to the bar but Dan still glanced at it. Bogie had managed to maneuver himself onto the detective’s lap but that suited Dan. If he ever had a home he could really call a home, with a garden – and someone there to share things with again – he’d have a dog.
‘I’m not ruling anything out, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit the old saying that lightning doesn’t strike twice, is starting to ring hollow. I hope Tony Harrison gets our message soon. I’d like to see him show up. I do have some questions for him.’
‘Bloody hell, I could kill a beer.’
With a sigh, Dan said, ‘You already told me that.’
‘Yeah, sorry. Do you think Vivian Seabrook could have done it?’
‘No, not really,’ Dan said, ‘but we had reason enough to take her in and she could shake someone else loose.’
‘Like Harry Stroud?’
‘Careful what you say. Seems safe enough in here, but you can’t be sure.’
Bill pushed his coffee aside. ‘If there’s any question, I’m off duty boss, right?’
Dan shrugged and Bill went to raise the stained-glass hatch and get himself a pint of Double Donn. He raised a brow at his guv’nor who shook his head.
When Bill returned, he said, ‘Did we miss something the first time around? Were Tony and Alex deeper in than we thought – I don’t mean they did the killings, we know all about that, but could they have known more than we ever realized. They have a way of showing up at crime sites.’
What he couldn’t say, Dan thought, was that he liked, more than liked, Alex Duggins too much to even consider she’d been involved in a crime. ‘Nope. Reckon not. But I don’t think we can afford to forget the story about Tony Harrison and his wife. I checked with the Aussies. They don’t have any more definite information about the wife’s death than they did last time.’
Bill looked pensive, which was unusual.
‘What is it?’ Dan said.
‘This is one of those times when I wish we were more
of a mind to use a shrink. How would a man pull off the death of his wife and come back here smelling like a rose? How would he convince everyone he was innocent?’
‘He was found innocent in Australia, Bill. I don’t think we can believe what happened there is salient to what’s happening here. This time God knows what the motive is – but we’ll find it. And it’s going to be different from the first time around. That was all about hiding another crime, an old one.’
‘How do you know this isn’t the same?’
‘Think about it.’ He skewered his sergeant with a stare. ‘As far as we know the dead woman doesn’t have any significant history in the area. She’s an incomer. Know what that makes me think?’
A long quaff of his beer and Bill narrowed his eyes in question.
‘This one’s going to be tougher,’ Dan said. ‘No obvious local drama going on. Finding the events that led to this killing will take patience and sharp ears. I’ve got a feeling this killer thinks he’s got us by the short hairs.’
Bill grunted and shrugged. ‘He probably does – or she. We haven’t got anywhere. The house-to-house seems to be taking forever considering there aren’t that many houses. Let’s hope everyone doesn’t stick together and not tell us if they know something.’
‘I can’t see them trying to hide this.’ Bill’s beer was starting to look good to him and he didn’t even like the stuff much. ‘You can be pretty sure the tea and biscuits at every house are responsible for a lot of the time the PCs are taking.’
He glanced up from his cold coffee to see Tony Harrison looking at him around the door. ‘You called?’ Tony said. ‘We heard you were here. Hope you don’t mind us interrupting your meeting. It’s all over Folly that you’ve got Vivian Seabrook under arrest. Does that mean she’s a suspect?’
‘Either get in here or get out,’ Bill said. ‘Every busybody in the place is trying to pick up bits of gossip. Gossip can ruin an investigation.’
Tony stood back to let Alex in. Pale and obviously anxious, she slipped into the snug and sat down. Bogie promptly abandoned Dan’s lap for hers and she snuggled him close. Dan studied her and saw all the signs of extreme tension, not that he was surprised.
‘Ms Seabrook is helping us—’
‘Helping you with your investigations,’ Tony finished for Bill who shied a beer mat across the little room at him.
‘Right,’ Dan said. ‘We hoped you’d get our message. Although Alex doesn’t really need to be here for what we’d like to talk about.’
‘I want to stay with Tony.’ Her voice was firm now, and the way she looked at the vet suggested she’d have to be thrown out if they wanted to talk to Tony alone.
Tony said nothing but Dan sighed.
‘I was there the whole time,’ she added. ‘I might remember some little thing he forgets. It’s hard to remember everything when you’ve been in such a horrible situation. I’m getting a Bitter Lemon, what will the rest of you have?’
Her take-charge manner made Dan smile. The woman had chutzpah, even under pressure. ‘Sit where you are,’ he said. ‘I’ll get it. What’ll it be, Tony?’
‘What have you got, Bill?’ That kind of cheerful approach didn’t make it easy for Bill to be churlish. ‘Double Donn and it’s good,’ he said.
‘A half for me,’ Tony said, settling himself in another chair. His dog stood with her head on his knee and adoring brown eyes watching his face.
‘What made you decide to take Vivian in?’
Bill could deal with that, Dan decided.
‘That’s privileged information. I doubt you’d be pleased if we discussed your business with anyone who asked.’
‘You can’t blame me for trying.’
‘I frickin’ well can,’ Bill sputtered on a swallow of his beer. ‘We had this problem with you two before. You don’t see yourselves as Joe Public. You’re special. Well, you can forget that. We’ll do the questioning.’
Tony’s pleasant smile only deepened Bill’s frown.
Dan delivered the drinks, including a fresh coffee for himself. ‘Why didn’t you stop if you thought you saw someone crouching beside the road at night? Didn’t it occur to you that whoever it was might have been in trouble?’
‘I think it would be more useful to find out if that was Pamela rather than asking for a bunch of hypothetical answers.’ Tony didn’t sound as relaxed as he looked.
In the following silence, voices reached them from the bar. As it got a bit later, more customers were arriving. Lily Duggins must be guarding the snug door to keep anyone from wandering in.
‘What you think,’ Dan said to Tony, ‘may be true, but I’ll have your hypothetical answers just the same. And do your best to make them useful.’
Alex responded to a tap on the hatch window and took two plates of sandwiches from Hugh. ‘Thought you might all have a use for these,’ he said and closed the window again.
‘Thank you,’ Dan said. They might have to go back to the parish hall. This could get a bit too cozy. He winced at the thought of the draughty old hall with its sputtering radiators reeking of cooked dust.
‘Cheese and tomato,’ Bill said, having taken a huge bite of a sandwich. ‘My favorite food.’
‘I should have stopped,’ Tony said. ‘Of course I should. But instead of trying to signal me, the person crouched lower. I thought he or she was hiding and I didn’t want to interfere. I was wrong. That was a bad call.’
‘You might have saved a life if you had stopped.’ It was Bill’s way to call a spade a shovel and he went for the kill every time. He chomped steadily through his sandwich.
‘There’s no reason to suggest that,’ Alex said. ‘It isn’t fair.’
‘Is there any way to find out who it was?’ Tony said. He looked knackered.
Another rap, this one on the door, brought a sigh from him. ‘Come in,’ he said and the pathologist, Molly Lewis, joined them. Her greetings were brief and she sat at the table, put a briefcase on the floor.
‘I’ve got some interesting bits,’ she said, reaching into her briefcase and passing a sheet of paper to Dan. ‘This falls into your bailiwick.’
‘Should we leave?’ Tony said, starting to rise.
‘Mm, no,’ Dan told him, realizing he was famished and reaching for a sandwich himself. ‘Who knows if you can help us with this?’
Alex took a sandwich. They all took it in turns to spread some pickle relish inside the bread, including Molly.
‘Now can we concentrate?’ Dan said. ‘So the glass wasn’t there very long?’
‘No.’ Molly slid photographs from her briefcase and glanced at Tony and Alex, then, with question, at Dan. ‘And it was from a small piece in the first place.’
‘Tony’s going to have to help us out with this,’ he said. ‘At least he’s going to have to give us some honest answers. Let’s see those.’
The stark pictures left nothing to the imagination. Pamela Gibbon’s deeply discolored face had a number of short, mostly curved cuts. Caked blood remained, although in all but two photos, the glass had been removed.
He passed the photos around and didn’t feel good about Alex’s intake of breath. But what he needed were some leads, and treading lightly on people’s feelings wouldn’t get him those. And she’d insisted on staying although he had given her an opportunity to leave.
‘What do these tell us, doctor?’ Tony asked Molly. ‘The wounds bled so Pamela wasn’t dead when she landed on the glass?’
‘We got an early break,’ Molly said in her dry, Oxford accent. ‘The glass is from a flashlight. Must have broken before she fell.’
‘Pamela’s flashlight?’ Alex said. ‘She dropped it?’
Dan held up a hand. ‘Molly, what about fingerprints? Any on the glass?’
She shook her head. ‘But plenty on the rungs of the ladder. All Pamela Gibbon’s and Tony Harrison’s, apart from some old smudges.’
‘Tony went down to see if he could help,’ Alex said at once.
‘But I co
uldn’t.’ Tony drained his glass and went to get another beer, a pint this time. Back in his chair, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. ‘You know why I was down there and it had nothing to do with how Pamela died. If you’re going in that direction, you’re wasting good time.’
Dr Lewis look a plastic evidence bag out and put it on the table. ‘That was in the victim’s pocket.’
They all leaned closer to see a steel encased torch. The lens was still intact.
‘So the glass was from another torch,’ Bill said. ‘Was it there?’
Molly shook her head. ‘No. And it makes sense to assume that someone went down and retrieved it.’
‘So where are their fingerprints?’ Alex said. Damn her loose lips.
THIRTEEN
At ten the following morning, after spending the night with her mother at Corner Cottage, Alex walked over to Tony’s surgery and found he was already seeing patients.
Radhika put her in a tiny sitting room behind the area where owners waited with their pets.
‘This is a horrible time,’ Alex said.
‘Yes.’ Radhika didn’t smile. ‘I can’t be gone more than minutes. When I hear Tony coming out, I’ll have to get back. I’ll let him know you’re here. Tell me what’s going on. You talked to the police at the Dog yesterday. Did they tell you anything?’
Nothing was missed by the sharp-eyed people in Folly. ‘I did talk to them.’ Every word spoken, every move was as clear as if she watched it all over again on a screen. ‘Pamela died because she fell down that shaft and smashed her head.’ The photos were something she would never forget.
‘I heard the grate was back over the top.’
‘Radhika, I shouldn’t talk about it. I was told to be quiet.’
The beautiful woman inclined her head in acceptance but her eyes were deeply sad.
‘You can’t repeat anything I say,’ Alex said. ‘The grate was back over the hole. I don’t know for certain what that means but I can guess. So can you. They don’t seem to have any real leads although they’re starting to push at Tony which infuriates me. He couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with it but they’re pushing him because they don’t know what else to do.’
Out Comes the Evil Page 8