Page 9 of A Very Bookish Murder
‘But,’ Joyce said, ‘the detective is presumably in hospital, if he’s still alive, and so who takes over? And when will the new detective, he or she, get here? And will we have to answer all those questions and give new statements all over again?’
There were groans all round before Brigitte stood up and drained her mug. ‘I am going to bed. Thank you so much, Ally. And, Ross,’ she added, giving him a coy little smile.
This was followed by a great deal of yawning and mug-draining and the other three decided it was time to go to bed too. Ally could hear them talking as they made their way upstairs.
‘What a day!’
‘What happens now?’
‘Do we get our money back?’
Shortly after they’d all disappeared upstairs and Ross had kindly stacked the dishwasher, switched it on and let the dogs out for ten minutes, they too made their way upstairs, to Ally’s room.
‘Who do you think is a likely killer?’ she asked Ross as she got into bed.
‘Let me clean my teeth and we’ll have a chat about it in bed,’ Ross replied.
But by the time Ross had finished in the bathroom and climbed into bed, Ally was already fast asleep.
FIVE
In the morning, Ally’s four remaining guests all arrived in the dining room within ten minutes of each other, and seemed uncharacteristically quiet as they helped themselves to fruit and cereals. Penelope and Millie both opted for cooked breakfasts today, while both Joyce and Brigitte confessed to being ‘not very hungry’. Ally could understand that as she had very little appetite herself.
‘So, what’s our schedule for today then?’ Joyce asked no one in particular as Ally served the cooked breakfasts.
There followed much headshaking and shrugging.
‘Well,’ said Penelope loudly, ‘we still must go to the hotel for lunch and dinner, and I suggest that we try to follow the original schedule as closely as possible, even if Jodi is not around to critique our work.’
‘Perhaps we could mark each other’s?’ Millie suggested quietly.
‘I have decided,’ Penelope said loudly and firmly, ‘that each of us will tell our life story, or talk about incidents in our life, every morning. Then, in the afternoons, we can compose a short story based on what we heard. We can then read them out and, as Millie suggests, critique each other’s writing.’
There were some moans in the background.
‘I’m not happy standing up and talking to people,’ Joyce muttered. She looked unsure and uncomfortable, and Ally wondered why.
‘All I can think of is my life in France before I met my husband,’ Brigitte said.
‘I’m not very interesting,’ Millie said, ‘although I did once, long ago, almost get chosen for the Olympics.’
‘That’s amazing!’ Joyce exclaimed.
‘I would love to hear about that,’ Brigitte said.
‘Good, good! That’s settled then,’ boomed Penelope. ‘Brilliant idea! We’ll go ahead with that then.’
No one argued.
‘My husband will arrive here tomorrow,’ Brigitte said to Ally. ‘Can we talk later?’
Ally nodded, having a fair idea what might be coming. She could hear the phone ringing in the hall and Ross answering it. When she returned to the kitchen, Ross said, ‘That was the police.’
‘Did they say how Rigby was?’ Ally asked anxiously.
‘He’s still alive, but they didn’t have an update on his progress,’ Ross said. ‘His replacement on this case is on his way and wants to talk to you before he interviews the women at the hotel. Incidentally, he wantsallthe women to be at the Craigmonie today, including the four who’re staying here.’
‘They planned to go down there anyway,’ Ally said. She sighed loudly. ‘This is so crazy! I have no idea for how long these women will be here, what they’re going to be doing, or how many husbands and partners are likely to appear. Just as well I haven’t any more bookings for another month or so.’ This reminded her of Brigitte, who was still presumably waiting in the dining room.
