Page 65 of A Very Bookish Murder
‘Of course not,’ Penelope snapped, ‘but it’ll take all my willpower.’ She took Ally’s arm and wobbled her way up the final stretch of road to the malthouse.
When they finally got into the hall, Ally stood by to ensure that they all got up the stairs safely and waited to hear the sounds of the bedroom doors closing. There would be a few sore heads in the morning, that was for sure. She wondered briefly what time George would get back.
She let an overjoyed Flora out for a run in the garden, then went back into the kitchen. She was about to switch off the kitchen lights and go up to bed when she suddenly decided it was time to adjust the board. She would never sleep unless shealtered it in line with this evening’s revelations. She removed the picture from the wall and stared blankly at the fluttering Post-its for a moment.
Her mobile rang. She knew it couldn’t be anyone but Ross at that time of night.
‘How did it go?’ he asked cheerfully.
‘You would not believe!’ Ally replied. ‘I’ll tell you all in the morning. Have your guests arrived yet?’
‘They should be here in the next twenty minutes or so. By the time I get them settled in it’s going to be too late to come round, but I’m longing to hear all about it in the morning. I’ll be with you early to help with breakfast; the last one for this lot, eh?’
‘The last one,’ Ally confirmed before she switched off her phone and returned to the board. She thought about her original line-up and how she’d only been able to remove Joyce and Della. She felt strongly now that Laura should be removed from the twelve o’clock spot, and yet… After all, she had no evidence to do so, just that damned gut feeling. Logically though, she knew she couldn’t remove Laura altogether, but perhaps lower her down a bit, say to nine o’clock? And Brigitte was hardly likely to have murdered her husband’s mother, was she? She must certainly have felt like it at times, but there was no doubting that she adored her husband and so would not have wanted to hurt him. Surely it would be safe to move her right down to six o’clock?
Ally studied the remaining three: Penelope, Millie and Morwenna. Penelope must now be at the top position at twelve, because Ally had seen the violent streak she’d displayed in attacking Laura. That left Millie and Morwenna currently at seven and five respectively, mainly because they had to gosomewhere. But when she considered it more deeply, she realised she had no evidence against Millie, and Morwenna’s story was completely plausible. But, then again, they were both there and could have done it. She moved Millie up to eight andMorwenna up to four. She then replaced the picture back on the wall.
She made herself a coffee and sat down, absently stroking Flora’s head. One of these women just had to have killed Jodi Jones, and she still had no real idea who that could be. She’d see Amir at the funeral tomorrow, and perhaps he might have discovered something of relevance. She had a feeling in the pit of her stomach, something akin to dread, about tomorrow. After the state they’d got into at the dinner tonight, what on earth were they going to be like at the funeral?
At least she and Ross would be able to have a quiet evening later, with no guests!
Sighing, Ally drained her coffee, then heard George come back in and go upstairs. She checked the locks and went up to bed.
When Ally woke up at five the next morning, as she frequently did, her first thoughts were that somebody was downstairs. There was a creaking of floorboards, which could always be heard when someone entered or left the kitchen. The sound only lasted a few seconds, and Ally convinced herself that she’d imagined it before she turned over and went back to sleep.
TWENTY-FIVE
Sunday dawned with a fine drizzle and grey clouds scudding across a leaden sky. An apt day for a funeral, Ally thought, as she pulled back the curtains.
Ross arrived about eight o’clock, just as Ally had begun to set up everything for breakfast. As they worked together, Ally gave him a detailed account of the previous evening’s shenanigans.
‘George?’ he kept repeating. ‘George is Jodi Jones’sson?’
‘Yes, I do wonder why he didn’t tell us though. But I should have realised as there’s quite a strong resemblance.’
‘Not having seen Jodi, apart from occasionally in the media, I can’t honestly comment on that,’ Ross said. Then he grinned. ‘I know I shouldn’t laugh, but I’d have given a lot to witness that scene last night with big, stroppy Penelope hitting out at what’s her name…?’
‘Laura,’ Ally provided, ‘and punching poor little Millie, who was only trying to hold Laura back. She’s going to have a real shiner this morning!’
‘I should think there’s probably going to be a few sore heads this morning too,’ Ross remarked. ‘Do you think there’ll be many takers for a full Scottish breakfast?’
Ally shrugged. ‘No idea. But don’t forget they’ll all be heading home after the funeral so they’d be wise to have a decent breakfast.’ She popped some sausages into the oven on a low heat. ‘Could you halve these tomatoes for me, Ross, if you don’t mind? You’re so much better at slicing evenly than I am!’
Ross looked around. ‘Where’s that brilliant, big, sharp knife I normally use?’
‘Isn’t it in the drawer?’ Ally asked.
‘Nope.’
‘Probably still in the dishwasher then. I usually leave something in there,’ Ally said.
Ross slid out the dishwasher racks. ‘No, not in here.’
‘Oh,’ Ally said, ‘I expect it’ll turn up eventually. Use the serrated knife. Can you keep an eye on these sausages while I check the sitting room for anything anyone’s left behind before they all leave today?’
She didn’t really expect to find anything, but it was best to make sure.
It was while she’d slipped her hand down the side of the sofa that she found a bunch of keys, on the fob of which were the initials C and H, twisted together. Who on earth was H.C.? Or C.H.? Ally tried to think of everyone she could remember having sat in there, including the present and past clientele, but no one seemed to tally with either variation of the initials.
