Page 31 of A Very Bookish Murder
Ally giggled. ‘Are you trying to tell me that he just walked into the Craigmonie, made his way to the ladies’ cloakroom at the exact moment that Jodi was there, strangled her and walked out again, without ever bumping into any of the women who were having a pee or powdering their noses?’
‘One of them was his wife, Brigitte,’ Ross remarked. ‘She could have been in on the act. In fact, she could be the killer.’
‘I’ll tell you something interesting,’ Ally said. ‘When we all got back from the castle, Joyce took me aside and told me she was pretty certain she knew who’d done it. She said she’d come down early in the morning to tell me, after she’d “slept on it”, and she didn’t want to be seen talking to me now.’
‘Well, Ally, she could be trying to put you off the scent if it was herself. Who does she share a room with?’ Ross asked.
‘Millie, the little stocky one.’
‘You’ve got to look out for little mousy ones! Appearances can be deceptive.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Ally admitted. ‘I saw her swimming in Loch Soular and had no idea she was such a powerful swimmer.’
‘There you are then,’ said Ross.
‘Then, of course, there’s Laura, my main suspect. The one who’s having it off with Owen Jones and who suddenly appeared in the garden when everyone got back. What was that all about?’
Ross shook his head. ‘Seems strange. What about Della?’
‘Shewasthe main suspect,’ Ally reminded him.
‘And then there’s the Cornish one…’
‘That’s Morwenna, who’s actually Welsh by birth. Her husband and Jodi had an affair years ago, but I think she was quite pleased to be rid of him.’ Ally looked at her watch. ‘It’s nearly eight o’clock and I imagine they’re all inside now, so I’ll go and put the cushions away in case it rains overnight.’
Ross stood up. ‘Let me help you.’
A couple of the roses, which had been in bud this morning, had now exploded out in all their beauty, one pink and one yellow, filling the air with their scent.
‘Ooh, that perfume!’ Ally said, sniffing the pink one. She looked around the garden and was about to pick up the first mattress when she was astonished to see Joyce fast asleep on one of the loungers underneath a rowan tree. ‘Would you look ather!’ she exclaimed.
‘She looks very comfortable,’ Ross agreed.
‘She can’t stay there all night,’ Ally said, ‘so I’m going to have to wake her up.’
She crossed the lawn to where Joyce was lying. ‘Joyce?’ she said quietly. Then, ‘Hey, Joyce,’ more loudly.
There was no response.
‘A deep sleeper obviously,’ Ross said, bending down and shouting, ‘Wakey, wakey.’
There was still no response nor a glimmer of any reaction.
Ally was becoming concerned. ‘Do you suppose she’s all right?’
‘Maybe her hearing’s not good,’ Ross said, looking a little worried too. ‘Let’s give her a shake.’ He began to shake her gently, then more strongly.
They exchanged glances.
‘I don’t think this is normal,’ Ally said. ‘She should have woken up by now, for goodness’ sake.’
Ross gently lifted one of her eyelids. ‘Bloody hell,’ he said, ‘I think she’s in a coma. We need an ambulance, Ally!’
THIRTEEN
The three Craigmonie residents had returned to their hotel, Brigitte and George had gone out somewhere or other, and the other two women had retired to their rooms to watch TV but now came rushing downstairs when they heard the ambulance arrive with sirens blaring.
‘What do we know about this lady?’ one of the paramedics asked as they lifted Joyce onto the stretcher.
