Just as Kate was thinking up a suitable comment, in walked a large noisy family. Taking this as her cue to leave, she said, ‘Well, I’d better be off.’ She’d have liked to extract some more information out of Bobby but, bearing in mind his reputation for gossip, decided it was, on this occasion, better to keep her nose out of it, publicly at least. But she knew now that she had to devise some way to meet Stan Starkey, Sharon’s husband. There was a very good chance he might know something that the others didn’t – or wouldn’t – divulge.
As she untied Barney from where he was tethered to the post outside, Kate decided she’d forget about making lasagne. She’d do spaghetti bolognese instead.
Fourteen
‘I’ve got some news for you,’ Woody said as he stepped inside the door of Lavender Cottage.
‘Good news or bad news?’ Kate asked.
‘Both,’ Woody replied. ‘The good news is that you were right. The bad news is that the meals were found to have been tampered with, pumped full of digoxin, meaning we now definitely have a murder inquiry on our hands. You were right, Kate! And I think I’ve convinced your friend, Bill Robson, that it wasn’t you who did it!’
‘I should hope you did!’ Kate retorted. ‘And, if he’d listened to me in the first place, he could have started this investigation a week ago.’
‘This is serious police business, Kate. They are going to be going through Edina’s flat with a fine-tooth comb, questioning everyone, searching everywhere. You must keep well out of it now. I know you don’t like Robson, but he is in charge. Not only that, your life could be in danger – again. You should know never to get on the wrong side of a killer. And, once again, a killer is who we’re looking for.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Even so, Kate felt a tiny frisson of delight that all her hunches had been right. Not that she need ever expect any kind of apology from that wretched detective inspector of course.
‘The press will be back, no doubt,’ Woody warned, ‘because the police station have had a call from the Post asking if it’s true that there’s been another murder in Tinworthy. God knows how they found out so quickly.’
‘I can tell you that. According to Bobby in the shop, Stan Starkey got in touch with his mate on the Post,’ Kate said.
‘And they’ve only just recovered since the last load of crimes!’ said Woody. ‘At least this one was a tad more subtle,’ he added, obviously recalling the crudity of the previous methods of killing. ‘Now, promise me you’re going to behave yourself? Kate, you could get yourself killed this time. Please leave it to the police.’
Because Kate had been so directly involved at the time of the previous murders, she wasn’t altogether surprised to find a couple of reporters in the lane the following morning, a few yards from the cottage.
‘They’re out there like vultures,’ Angie said. ‘What do you suppose the group name for reporters is? A posse? A gaggle? A clutch?’
‘A pest,’ Kate muttered as she prepared to go to work. When she opened the door of her car they both accosted her.
‘More murder in Tinworthy!’ one of them exclaimed. ‘Any idea what’s happening, Mrs Palmer?’
‘None at all,’ Kate replied shortly. ‘Nothing to do with me.’
‘Stan Starkey tells us you were the last person to talk to her,’ one of them said. ‘And I thought you were friendly with the inspector,’ he persisted, ‘so thought you might have heard something.’
‘Detective Inspector Forrest is retiring, as you must be well aware,’ Kate said, ‘and I know no more than you do so there’s no point in hanging about round here. I suggest you contact the police in Launceston.’
There followed some grunts of dissent before they finally shuffled off down the lane. Kate sighed and wondered if they’d discovered where Woody lived and were heading over there.
She arrived at the medical centre a little early to find Dr Ross standing outside the door. ‘Just thought I’d get a breath of fresh air,’ he said, ‘before the rush begins and everyone comes in convinced they’ve been poisoned. There were three of them yesterday, clutching their bellies.’
‘Yes, I had a couple yesterday too,’ Kate said.
‘I read an article not long ago,’ he said, ‘about a poisoner – I think it was in France – who decided to kill off all the old people in his village. So let’s hope that hasn’t given anyone round here any ideas.’
‘I’m sure it’s a one-off,’ Kate said, mentally crossing her fingers.
‘Well, let’s hope so,’ Andrew Ross said with a grin, ‘or there’ll be a few flats available up there at Seaview Grange!’
Although Kate realised he was joking and knew this to be a highly unlikely scenario, she also knew she’d think about it every time someone elderly came in with tummy problems.
Gossip was rife in Tinworthy; Edina was probably foreign after all, the villagers said. Kate had been in Cornwall long enough to know that anyone not born in the county was regarded as foreign and therefore suspect. In addition, Edina had been a singer and who knew what transpired backstage in the opera world? Opera heroines were no strangers to being poisoned either, falling dramatically to the floor in the final act. And she was bound to have had lovers in the past, they said, and
