Page 12 of A Very Bookish Murder
‘That’s what police do!’ said his stand-in. ‘As you know the area so well, I might need you to work with me on this, but for the moment, could you just direct me to Miss Jones’s room, please?’
As Ally led the way upstairs, still trying to digest what the inspector had just said, she encountered Morag and the vacuum cleaner on the landing, staring open-mouthed at the handsome visitor.
‘This is Detective Inspector Kandahar, Morag,’ she explained, ‘who’s come to check out Room One.’
Morag nodded wordlessly as Ally unlocked the door and ushered the detective in.
‘I’ll leave you to it then, Inspector,’ she said.
‘Thank you, and please call me Amir,’ he said.
‘In which case I’m Ally.’
He’d hardly gone through the door before the phone rang again. This time it was her daughter Carol calling from Wiltshire.
‘Mum, what on earth’s going on in that village of yours?’
Ally sighed. ‘Yes, very unfortunate.’
‘Unfortunate? Mum, you could be in danger. I know we’ve had this conversation before, but I really mean it! Look, we have a lovely spare room, with an en suite and everything, so why don’t you come down for a few weeks and let them all get on with it?’
‘You’re very kind, darling. But I have the remaining ladies staying here, and I’m running a business, like it or not. Anyway, I’ve got Ross with me a great deal of the time, and I feel safe with him.’
‘You could bring him down too. It’s a double bed. I shouldn’t say that, should I? Dad would probably spin in his grave!’
Ally smiled. ‘I don’t think Dad would. I think he’d most likely be pleased for me. But, Carol, double bed and en suite or not, I’mnotcoming. I can’t at the moment anyway, but it’s kind of you to worry about me.’
‘You’re mymum!’ Carol exclaimed. ‘Of course I worry about you. If it wasn’t for the kids, I’d be right up there.’
‘Absolutely no need,’ Ally said firmly. ‘And I think this will be solved quite quickly.’
She only hoped she was right.
SIX
Morag untied the pinny from around her ample curves, wiped her brow and sat down with a cup of tea in the kitchen, as she did every morning when she’d finished doing the bedrooms. She was a small, plump woman of sixty with permed, not-very-well-dyed greying hair and bright-blue eyes.
‘Well I never!’ exclaimed Morag. ‘A detective.’
‘He seems really nice,’ Ally said, listening out for her new friend coming down the stairs. Then, aware of footsteps on the stairs, she said, ‘Excuse me for a minute, Morag.’
She met Amir in the hallway, where he handed her back the key to Room 1.
‘I’ll let the husband clear her personal effects,’ he said, ‘when he arrives tonight.’
Ally nodded as she showed him towards the door.
‘I’ve no doubt our paths will be crossing from time to time,’ he said, bestowing her with another dazzling smile. ‘Thanks for your cooperation today, Ally,’ he added.
Ally smiled. ‘It’s been a pleasure, Amir.’
Back in the kitchen, Ally replaced the key to Room 1 in the drawer of the dresser.
‘He called yeAlly!’ Morag exclaimed.
‘Well, that’s my name,’ Ally replied. ‘And I called himAmir.’ She poured herself a cup of tea, still reeling with the shock that Rigby had considered her to be a ‘good sleuth’ – Rigby, who’d questioned and doubted everything she’d ever suggested on previous occasions. Did Amir think she was some sort of expert then? She’d hate to disillusion him. And they’d already got on to first name terms, unlike Rigby, who had always called her Mrs McKinley.
‘Well I never!’ Morag repeated, draining her mug. ‘Wait till I tell Murdo.’
