He was worried about the old man and that pretty assistant of his, who’d been around the village, asking so many questions. He didn’t really understand why the coroner was still poking around. Surely, now that the verdict had been handed down, his role was over?
And yet, clearly, it wasn’t. So what was going on? Did they suspect something? What did they know that he and the rest of the village didn’t? Was it possible … He paused, swallowing hard. Was it possible that they knew more than he thought they possibly could?
Not that he could see how. As far as he was aware, nobody knew how much he had hated Iris Carmody – or why. But if they were to find out …
Would he be arrested?
And if he was, how could he possibly defend himself?
For a moment, in that beautiful field, surrounded by that beautiful sky, Ronnie Dewberry felt cold, and scared, and utterly alone. His heart beat painfully in his chest, making him feel sick.
Ever since he’d been a kid, he’d sometimes ‘felt’ things. His grandmother had said he was a bit ‘fey’ like her own mother had been. He’d scoffed at her, of course, but still … There had been that time he’d felt so odd all day, and coming home from school had been told that his favourite uncle had just died.
Then, too, that time he’d wanted Bunty to sleep on his bed, holding her close and rubbing her black-and-white fur and feeling so weepy. And then she’d been killed by a kick in the head from a particularly nasty ewe.
And right now, he was feeling that same sense of foreboding – as if something massive and dark was looming ever closer. And he was afraid that he knew what that something might be.
That he could end up hanging by the neck until he was dead, just as his best friend had.
Chapter 27
Duncan Gillingham smiled at the waitress and ordered coffee and toast for both of them. Trudy, who wasn’t allowed to leave the house any morning without two boiled eggs and some bread and butter inside her, opened her mouth to object, and then shrugged.
If her dad and brother were anything to go by, Duncan would have no trouble eating her portion as well!
She glanced a little nervously at her watch. It was still early, and she had plenty of time before she had to report to the station; even so she felt rather uneasy. Not that anyone she knew – either from work or from her neighbourhood – was likely to see her in the smart little café off St Giles.
‘You look just as good out of uniform as you do in it, by the way,’ Duncan said cheekily, eyeing her rather pedestrian, pale blue skirt and white blouse and darker-blue cardigan ensemble with mock appreciation.
Trudy sighed. ‘Don’t play the fool, Duncan,’ she said. The clothes she was wearing were at least three years old. ‘I don’t have all day to sit and spar with you, you know.’
Duncan held out his hands in a pacifying gesture. ‘Fine! I really did want to clear the air between us.’ He leaned forward across the table and his dark hair fell forward across his forehead, making Trudy want to reach out and push it back.
The thought made her feel silly and a little breathless at the same time. What was it about this man that got under her skin so much? Yes, he was handsome, and yes, he could be charming and funny. But she knew it was all calculated. He wanted something from her and she knew it. But instead of all that putting her off, it only intrigued her.
‘Look, I really am sorry things became awkward between us the last time. That wasn’t what I wanted.’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t,’ Trudy said dryly. ‘You wanted me to remain in blissful ignorance of your fiancée so that you could lead me on and use me as a source in the police for your articles.’
She reached for her teacup and took a sip. She was rather pleased with the cool but slightly amused tone of her voice. She sounded, even to her own ears, rather sophisticated. Like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
She thought she saw a spark of surprise mixed with admiration in the look he gave her, and felt even more pleased with herself.
‘That might have been true at the beginning,’ Duncan admitted with a shame-faced smile. ‘But that wasn’t true for very long. I really do admire you, you know. Joining the police, doing the job you do. It can’t be easy.’
Trudy shrugged. ‘They say that nothing worthwhile is ever easy. So, why don’t we change the subject? I accept your apology, no hard feelings and all of that. Now, I really must go.’
Yesterday had been a bit of a nightmarish sort of day. It had taken her a while to realise that Dr Ryder had been right to insist that she make a full disclosure to her superior officer, and after giving DI Jennings a full report, she’d been glad to get home. Not that she’d slept much last night.
Needless to say, the Inspector had somewhat grudgingly praised her diligence, but for once, pleasing her taciturn boss had given her no sense of accomplishment. Now she just wanted to get back into the case and try and make some real progress.
Duncan rose as she stood up, and held out his hand. He knew better than to try and persuade her to stay. Instead, he merely said laconically, ‘Well, be seeing you then. Good luck. Have a nice weekend,’ he added, making Trudy pause for a moment. Then she remembered – of course, it was Saturday tomorrow and her day off. Not that she’d probably take it, with so much going on!
They shook hands like strangers, and Trudy nodded and walked away, feeling on the whole as if she’d acquitted herself rather well.
She might not have
