‘Or thereabouts. Could have been a bit more, but not much less. You know how it goes. It’s impossible to pin the time of death down closer than that.’
‘But it’s got to have been premeditated,’ said Jessica. ‘Wouldn’t the killer need cables and stuff?’
‘I haven’t got that far yet. Presumably one cable, a couple of those clips they use, and maybe a bit of sticky tape. Not the sort of thing you’d carry around with you. I don’t think anyone’s going to argue that it was a spur-of-the-moment attack.’
‘Doesn’t that sound like some business thing, then? Somebody with a grudge, wanting revenge? Catching him when he’s relaxed in the run-up to Christmas, luring him into the woods somehow?’ Thea’s mind was working fast. It seemed to matter a lot that no suspicion would fall onto the Frowses. But even as she spoke, she could hear a voice saying, Yes, but Ant and his parents had a massive grudge against Blackwood.
Jessica and Finch were sitting together on a window seat that was very seldom used. Mostly it was stacked high with magazines, toys, work in progress, so there was never any room to sit on it. The window looked onto a thick hedge at the side of the house. They were facing each other awkwardly, with a gap of a foot or more between them, but the message was clear that they had opted to withdraw from the main conversation.
‘What did you bring him for?’ Thea asked Gladwin in a whisper. ‘You won’t need any more metal detecting now they’ve found Blackwood’s missing necklace.’
‘Pardon?’ Gladwin blinked in puzzlement.
‘You know – the gold necklace that Blackwood was accusing Beverley of taking. They found it, apparently.’ She clamped her mouth shut, wondering if she’d been a complete fool to mention it. ‘I got a text a little while ago, from Ant. I haven’t spoken to him today,’ she added defensively. ‘It’s not as if Finch was actually searching for that, was he?’ she finished weakly.
Gladwin looked over to the detective sergeant. ‘Have you any idea what she’s talking about? Because I haven’t.’
‘Come on,’ Thea urged her. ‘Somebody must have told you. That was the whole reason why Beverley went off when she did – or so they think. Back on Wednesday or Thursday, or whenever it was. Blackwood accused Bev of taking it.’
‘Gold necklace?’ Gladwin was still showing every sign of confusion.
‘Nobody told you?’ Thea concluded. ‘Well, fancy that. Cock-up on the communication front, because I seem to recall that Carla reported it to the police.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Who knows? I haven’t seen it. And now they’ve found it, so I suppose it was just a red herring all along.’
‘What’s the latest on that car crash?’ Jessica called from the far side of the room.
‘Five fatalities, all needing the pathologist. Everything got shifted up to make time for it.’ Gladwin was clearly pained by the accident.
Thea did a rapid automatic survey of the people she held most dear. No – none of them could possibly have been on the A44 on Christmas night. ‘Five?’ she echoed. ‘How terrible. The poor things.’
‘It hardly bears thinking about,’ nodded Gladwin. ‘Except of course I’ve got to, because it’s my job. And now I’ve got to figure out who killed our famous local plutocrat with an electric cable.’
‘And it’s still only Boxing Day,’ said Finch from across the room.
Jessica giggled briefly, but the others did not react.
‘I’m going over to Crossfield now, to see where things stand. We’ve got people there already, of course,’ said Gladwin. ‘Any chance of a coffee first? I missed breakfast.’
Thea got up and looked at Finch. ‘You want one as well, do you?’
‘If it’s no trouble. Thanks.’
In the kitchen, Stephanie and Timmy were sitting at the table doing nothing. There was no sign of Drew. It was obvious that Thea had interrupted a conversation that the children did not want her to know about. ‘What are you two plotting?’ she asked. ‘You look terribly guilty.’
‘They’re going to arrest Ant, aren’t they?’ Stephanie burst out. ‘They think he killed that horrible man.’
‘Whatever gave you that idea? Were you listening to us in the sitting room?’ She realised it would not have been difficult for the children to hear what had been said. The doors had both been open and nobody had thought it necessary to lower their voice.
‘Some of it,’ Stephanie admitted.
‘Well, you heard wrong. If you ask me, it’s far more likely to have been Mr Blackwood’s wife, or some businessperson he’s cheated or bullied – something like that. The man’s incredibly rich, and rich people nearly always have enemies. It’s probably bad news for Ant and his parents, as well, though. If the estate’s sold, there’ll be even more pressure on them to move out.’ This thought had only just struck her and she paused to examine it. ‘So that would give them the opposite of a motive, don’t you think?’
Timmy was looking very unsure about the whole conversation. His friendship with the Frowses focused mainly on the dog. Stephanie, however, was keeping up admirably. ‘But they do hate him. Everybody knows they do. And where is Mrs Frowse? How could she just disappear and leave them on Christmas Day? Poor Ant!’ She sniffed back a flurry of sympathetic tears.
‘Hey, Steph! Don’t get upset. It’ll turn out all right, you see. And it’s not such a big deal about Christmas when you’re a grown-up. I don’t suppose they minded as much as all that. They know Beverley’s okay, because she phoned them on Saturday. At worst, she’ll have had a bit of a funny turn and decided she needed to get away. A sort of panic attack, probably.’ Thea was convincing herself rather more successfully than she was convincing the child. ‘I bet you that’s all it was.’
Stephanie sniffed again. ‘Are you going out now?’
‘Me? No – this is strictly police business. I’d only be in the way. But we could walk over there this afternoon, maybe, when things have settled
