Murder to Music

‘Maybe, but he also owns the pub. Although a lot of landowners owned the whole village, didn’t they, so I suppose that’s not all that odd.’

‘Perhaps we ought to go back and have a word with Colonel Weston,’ said Ian.

‘Or it could have been Mr Vindari,’ said Libby. ‘He saw me when I first went there, and when we went with Rosie. He obviously watches what’s going on.’

Ian sighed. ‘They’ll all have to be talked to again,’ he said and stood up. ‘Thanks for the coffee and cheese, Fran.’ He turned to Sophie. ‘And thanks for coming down, Sophie. I’ll try not to involve you any more.’

‘Well,’ said Libby, when he’d gone. ‘He’s never normally that forthcoming, is he?’

‘He is when he’s stumped,’ said Fran. ‘It does look bad for Rachita, Sophie.’

‘I know.’ Sophie shook her head. ‘I can’t bear it. How do you two cope when you’re involved in these awful cases?’

‘It’s not so hard for us,’ said Libby. ‘It’s not usually people we know.’

‘You knew a lot of people over at Creekmarsh,’ Adam reminded her.

‘Yes, but we didn’t know the victims, did we?’ said Fran.

‘No, but -’ began Adam grudgingly. His mother interrupted.

‘It doesn’t matter, Ad. It’s just very hard for Sophie because her friend’s family are involved. Maybe not in this case, but certainly something, or they’d have admitted they didn’t know where Rachita is.’

‘You don’t think it’s an honour killing, do you?’ asked Sophie in a small voice.

‘I’m sure it isn’t.’ Guy went and sat on the arm of the sofa, his arm round his daughter’s shoulders. ‘I think she’s run away and they’re ashamed to admit it. Especially if she’s gone with a boy.’

Sophie’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. ‘But I wouldn’t have said she was like that. She was so focussed on her work. She wants to be a scientist – or a biologist.’

‘And she’s a seventeen-year-old girl,’ said Fran. ‘All hormones and emotion. And if she sees her family as a barrier to going to university, she’s bound to see them as a barrier to everything else, too, especially love. Doesn’t that make sense?’

‘Except that she would want to go back to school, as I said earlier, to get her A levels. And knowing the family, if she goes back to school, they can get her back home.’ Sophie laid her head on her father’s arm. ‘Thank goodness for enlightened parents.’

‘What will Ian do now?’ asked Ben, as he helped Libby and Fran to clear the table.

‘What he said, I suppose,’ said Libby. ‘Wait for dating evidence from the experts. And follow up any missing person reports that might be relevant. I don’t envy whoever has to do that.’

‘And meanwhile, he still has the other enquiry.’ Guy came into the kitchen.

‘Well, at least that’s not murder,’ said Ben. ‘And he knows who the victims are.’

‘Not exactly who they were,’ said Libby, ‘just what they were.’

‘But there’s murder there, too,’ said Fran from the sink.

‘Well, mistaken murder,’ said Libby. ‘More manslaughter, I would have thought.’

‘Not them,’ said Fran without turning round. ‘Paul Findon.’

Chapter Twenty-nine

‘I’M SURE OF IT.’ Fran turned round, wiping her hands. ‘I don’t know why, but it’s just one of those inescapable facts.’

‘Is this why the cellar’s important?’ asked Ben.

‘I think we’d established that,’ said Libby, still looking at Fran. ‘You’ve been telling Ian to look into Findon and the cellar from the minute we found out about him.’

‘And the estate agent,’ said Fran, ‘but from what we saw this afternoon, it looks as though he’s already doing that.’

‘Except that whoever was involved in letting White Lodge after Findon died won’t still be around.’

‘But they’re still involved in selling the property, so they must know something,’ said Ben. ‘We should have asked him.’

Libby grinned at him. ‘You’re getting as interested as we are.’

‘It has a certain appeal as a puzzle.’ He grinned back.

‘But it’s the human cost,’ said Fran, turning back to the sink.

‘I know.’ Libby went across and gave her a hug. ‘Sophie’s right. We mustn’t forget the real people.’

Soon after this conversation, Ben and Libby left.

‘When do you think we’ll hear anything more about it all?’ asked Libby, as they drove through the quiet night.

‘I don’t know. Ian might let me know of the results of my report and Sophie will hear about Rachita.’

‘But how? If Rachanda can’t speak to anyone and is confined to the house…’

‘Ian’s quite kind-hearted. He’d tell her, I’m sure. Or at least tell Guy to tell her.’ Ben reached across and patted her knee. ‘Don’t worry about it. Get back to painting and working out what we’re going to do at the theatre this Christmas.’

‘Hoy! We know what we’re going to do,’ said Libby. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t mean the panto, idiot! I mean the party. We said we would have a Christmas party.’

‘Oh, yes, so we did.’ Libby thought for a moment. ‘Are we going to do it for the whole village, or just for our members?’

‘We haven’t got members as such,’ said Ben. ‘But we should send an invitation to all the people who’ve worked with us. We’ve got most people’s email addresses, haven’t we?’

‘I suppose we can’t really have any more people than that, we haven’t got room. Pity we can’t take the auditorium seats out.’

‘I would definitely put my foot down at that,’ said Ben.

Tuesday morning was still pleasant and summery, and after gloomily pottering around the cottage after Ben had gone to the Manor, Libby took his advice and went into the conservatory to continue with the painting that sat waiting on her easel. She’d got no further than sorting out the paints and brushes when the landline rang.

‘Hello, Libby,’ said Campbell McLean.

‘Campbell,’ said Libby, furiously trying to remember how much information had leaked out about the White Lodge case.

‘I wondered if you had anything for me yet.’

‘For you?’

‘Come on, Libby. I told you I knew what was going on at White Lodge over a week ago. And now they’ve started work at the other end of the estate. I must say, I never knew that barn was there.’

‘I don’t know anything about it, Campbell. If you want to know any more you’ll have to ask the police.’

‘Libby.’ Campbell made an exasperated sound. ‘You, Fran and Ben were seen yesterday being let into White Lodge by DI Connell. So you must know something.’

Oh, bum, thought Libby. ‘Obviously I can’t tell you anything about that,’ she said. ‘And it’s really nothing to do with you.’

He roared with laughter. ‘That’s the most naive and ridiculous statement I’ve ever heard you make. I’m a journalist!’

‘Well, I’m still not telling you anything,’ said Libby, ruffled. ‘Ian would know immediately where a leak came from, and if you print anything about the case he’ll still think it came from me, even if it didn’t.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m going now. If I am allowed to talk to you, I will. All right?’

She switched off the phone and immediately re-dialled Ian’s private mobile number.

‘Campbell McLean just phoned me. He knows about us going to White Lodge yesterday,’ she said when he answered, sounding exasperated.

‘Shit. Oh, well, to be expected. They’ve been very good about keeping quiet so far. I suppose it’s press conference time.’