A Body in the Village Hall by Dee MacDonald (best business books of all time .txt) 📗

you,’ Kate said, ‘but I really want to see Maureen Grey. She left a message on my phone while I was at work and she was in great distress. Please!’

Woody opened the door to what was obviously his office and stood back to let her in.

‘Take a seat,’ he said.

Kate sat down in front of a desk strewn with paperwork and gazed at the wall, on which was tacked a huge map of all the Tinworthys – with various areas highlighted – and photographs alongside: Fenella, Seymour, Kevin, Maureen, and three others who she didn’t recognise.

Woody sat down behind the desk and shuffled some papers to one side.

‘She is here, isn’t she?’ Kate asked.

‘Yes, she is. We’ve had to keep her here for the moment.’ He looked directly at Kate. ‘Five minutes,’ he said. ‘I can let you have five minutes.’

‘Thank you,’ Kate said. ‘And, tell me, did you arrest Maureen purely on account of my telling you about her arguing with Kevin in the churchyard?’

‘Not just that,’ he said. ‘We had several reasons to question her, not least the fact that she’s now the person with the greatest motive to have killed both of them. She’s not been arrested as such; she’s helping us with our enquiries. I know you probably mean this kindly but––’

‘Woody, please!’ Kate interrupted.

He looked at his watch. ‘Like I said, five minutes.’

‘Thank you,’ Kate said, standing up.

‘And I’d like to speak to you afterwards,’ he said as he led her along a short dark corridor, unlocked an unmarked door and ushered her into a room – or was it a cell? – about nine feet square, with a narrow window high up in the wall and a bed in the corner. On the floor rested an empty plastic cup with what looked like the dregs of some tea in the bottom. Sitting on the bed, looking tear-stained and tired, was Maureen in a black jumper and grey slacks.

‘Oh, Maureen!’ Kate said, sitting down beside her as Woody disappeared back into the corridor, locking the door again behind him. ‘I’m truly sorry if what I told them has resulted in your being in here. But surely that’s not enough to keep you in for long?’

Maureen sniffed and fumbled up her sleeve, withdrawing a tissue. After a hearty blow she said, ‘It didn’t bloody well help – that and the letter.’

‘What letter?’

‘The letter Kevin Barry wrote to me while he was in jail, saying it was Fenella who’d been driving when Lucy was killed.’

‘But surely that doesn’t prove anything?’ Kate asked.

‘Well, if I believed him, I suppose it might have made me want to kill Fenella. I might have wanted to kill them both, come to think of it! But I couldn’t kill anybody, and they have to believe that.’

‘I believe you, Maureen,’ Kate said.

‘You do?’

‘Yes, I do. I’m a pretty good judge of character. Anyway, how on earth would you have managed to bash Kevin on the head and then chuck him in the sea?’

Maureen sat up straight and stared at Kate. ‘Is that what happened? They wouldn’t tell me anything other than that his body was found on the beach.’

‘I found it,’ Kate said.

‘Oh my God! What a nightmare! You’ve really got yourself involved in all this one way or the other, haven’t you?’

Kate grimaced. ‘You’re right, I have. But I’ll tell you what, Maureen, I’m going to see it through. I’m going to prove your innocence by finding out who did kill Fenella and Kevin.’

‘How do you plan to do that?’

‘I don’t know yet, but I’ll find a way.’ She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

Just at that moment the door was unlocked and the young constable said, ‘Time’s up, Mrs Parker!’

Kate gave Maureen a tight hug. ‘It doesn’t fill you with confidence when they can’t get your name right! But don’t worry, Maureen, it’ll all be OK.’

She headed towards the door. ‘Palmer,’ she said to the constable, ‘not Parker.’

As he led her back along the corridor, Woody appeared. ‘Can I have that word, please?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Kate followed him into his office and sat down opposite him again.

‘How did it go, Kate?’ he asked from behind the desk.

‘Well, five minutes isn’t very long,’ Kate replied. ‘But I’m more sure than ever that she’s not involved with these murders. Apart from anything else, how could a slim person like her possibly clobber a man and then chuck him into the sea?’

Woody regarded her steadily. ‘No,’ he agreed, ‘she probably couldn’t on her own, but she may have helped, aided and abetted.’

‘What do you mean?’ Kate was genuinely astonished.

‘What I mean is that her husband could have done it. Did you know he’d come back on the scene?’

‘Yes, she told me. But she didn’t want to know and she shut the door in his face.’

‘That’s not strictly true,’ Woody said, ‘because he’s been seen going into and coming out of the house, according to the neighbours anyway. But he’s never there when we go looking for him of course.’

‘So where is he now?’

Woody sighed. ‘You tell me. His mother says he’s not with her. They’re looking for him as we speak, but your friend Maureen’s giving nothing away.’

‘Perhaps she’s still loyal to him despite everything that’s happened,’ Kate said.

‘Could be misplaced loyalty. And just one more thing. When you found Kevin Barry washed up on the beach, did you remove his mobile phone by any chance?’

‘His mobile phone?’ Kate stared back at him. ‘Why would I do that? I didn’t touch him apart from turning him over.’

‘And you don’t remember seeing a mobile phone anywhere around?’ Woody persisted.

‘No, of course not! Not that I was looking for one.’

Woody smiled. ‘It was just a thought, something Maureen said. Apparently, he was thrilled with the phone Jess gave him and carried it with him everywhere, twenty-four/seven, so it seems strange that it wasn’t in any of his pockets. We may, of course, find it where he was staying.’

‘What’s so important about a mobile phone?’

‘Only