Page 27 of Death on the Rocks

Chapter Eighteen

When Oscar moved awayto potter around the far end of the garden, Lily remained on the patio to make her phone call. Annoyingly, all she got was an automated message telling her there was no one to take her call and advising her to call 999 in an emergency. Her other options were to send an email or call back later. The matter wasn’t an emergency, but she felt it warranted more urgency than sending an email.

She supposed the dead body had caused a lot of admin work for the small police force. Even if she did get through to them on the phone, they might not be able to come out immediately.

The solution she came up with was to retrieve the camera herself and take it to the police station. That way she could be sure the matter got the attention it deserved.

Her eyes landed on Oscar, cutting back a bush. She’d have to wait for him to leave, so she could go back into the shed unnoticed. Maybe the subterfuge wasn’t necessary but she couldn’t shake the notion that if there was a killer at large, it was surely better not to alert them to the fact that she was on to them.

The thought that someone at the B&B might have killed Vinny gave her a chill. She couldn’t comprehend that any ofthem could really commit murder. Perhaps it had been an argument that got out of hand. That seemed more likely than anything premeditated. Except, they’d stolen his camera first, so it clearly wasn’t entirely impulsive.

As far as Lily could tell, Oscar was regularly in and out of the shed. Also, she could have sworn she saw a look of panic in his eyes at finding her in there. Equally, he could just have been confused about finding a guest in the shed. He’d also been quite open with her about being shaken up by Vinny’s death, so maybe that was what she’d seen in his features, rather than anything to do with the missing camera.

The Millers also had access to the shed. In fact, given that it was only secured with a sliding bolt, anyone could’ve hidden the camera in there. Maybe whoever did it, had done so entirely impulsively, and the shed was merely a convenient place to stash it in the short term.

Then again, the photos suggested whoever had stolen it hadn’t done it purely on impulse, but with a motive. Surely it would be a strange coincidence if the theft had nothing to do with the lewd pictures.

It occurred to her that if she’d known what was on the camera maybe she’d have stolen it too. Perhaps whoever took it had intended to pass it on to the police to investigate its contents.

Which begged the question of why they hadn’t done that. Had they been deterred by his death? Or had they broached the matter with him and the conversation had ended up with him dead?

That was, of course, if whoever took it was as repulsed by the photographs as she was. It was hard to imagine anyone not being, but it was also hard to imagine what kind of person took those kinds of photos in the first place.

One like Vinny, apparently.

“Are you sure you don’t want another coffee?” Oscar asked, appearing before her and breaking her thoughts.

“No, thanks.”

“I’m more than happy to grab you one before I head out… or something else to drink?”

She smiled politely as she declined again. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes. I’m done for the day. At least at this job. I have a shift at the Star Castle Hotel in an hour.”

Lily’s eyebrows rose. “You’re busy.”

“Keeps me out of mischief,” he said with a cheeky smile. “Anyway, I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

She said goodbye and watched him disappear around the side of the house. Intently, she listened to him returning his gardening tools to the shed. As soon as it went quiet, she’d fetch the camera.

With a rush of adrenaline, she took tentative steps to the side of the house and caught sight of the back of Oscar before he disappeared along the lane.

Now was her chance. She’d grab the stolen goods and hand them in to PC Grainger with no one noticing.

“Hello, dear!” a friendly voice greeted her.

Turning, she tried to keep the disappointment from her face. “Hi, Mrs Miller.”

“Please…” She waved a hand in front of her face. “It’s Flora. I see you’re enjoying the garden.”

“Yes.” She took steps back towards the table and chairs.

“It’ll do you the world of good being out in the fresh air, even if it is such a miserable day. Best not to keep yourself hidden away in your room. Not after yesterday. We all need to keep our spirits up.” She smiled sadly. “That sounds harsh, doesn’t it? But life is for the living, isn’t that what they say? And seeing death so close puts life into perspective. We need to make the most ofevery moment. Don’t let what happened yesterday stop you from enjoying your holiday.”

“I’ll try not to,” she said, deciding not to mention that she wasn’t really on holiday.

A holiday implied some sort of break from everyday life. She didn’t have a normal life to take a break from. It occurred to her briefly that inheriting enough money that she might never need to work again may not be quite the luxury it sounded. Having to work would probably be a good thing. It would give her life some structure at least.

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