A Body in Seaview Grange by Dee MacDonald (jenna bush book club TXT) 📗

boarding school in Devon when we were five, and only allowed home for the long summer holidays. I was mostly ignored by my half-brothers and I never saw my natural mother again. She probably was sent to work elsewhere, but I’ve no idea why I was kept in the family.’

Kate couldn’t help but feel moved. Here was a lonely man who most likely had never fitted in anywhere, who’d immersed himself in his writing, and who was offering to cook dinner for her.

She cleared her throat. ‘I’m truly sorry, Cornelius, but I’m in a relationship so I don’t feel I can accept your kind offer. But I am very flattered that you should ask me. Perhaps we can have a coffee together occasionally when I visit here?’

He shook his head. ‘I thought you’d refuse. Never mind, I shan’t detain you any longer. I’m sure you have many patients awaiting your attention.’

As Kate stood up and headed towards the door she tried hard to think of something else to say, to lighten the mood. But, before she had the opportunity to say anything, he’d opened the door and was ushering her out, saying loudly, ‘Thank you for calling in, Nurse. I’ll take your advice.’

And with that he shut the door firmly behind her.

For a moment Kate stood still, trying to digest what had just occurred. He had actually asked her to dinner, which he himself was presumably going to cook! Then he’d taken no for an answer and rapidly shown her the door. As she walked down the stairs Kate had already begun to worry. Had she offended him? But surely he must have known that she was in a relationship with Woody Forrest, since everyone else on the planet seemed to know.

As she crossed the deserted hallway she checked the table, where only a few letters lay on the undusted surface. The table looked empty without the two serpentine carvings, which were still presumably in police custody.

Should she have accepted his invitation? Kate then had another thought; perhaps he intended to poison her! Did he think she suspected him? Had he, in fact, poisoned Edina’s ready meals? And had he killed Sharon?

Her head buzzing, Kate returned to the medical centre. Cornelius Crow’s fathomless dark eyes haunted her for the rest of the day. Did he really fancy her or was he merely intending to finish her off? In which case was he guilty of the two killings? She’d been so convinced it had to be David Courtney. And now this.

Woody appeared later in the evening and suggested a drink at The Greedy Gull. As they seated themselves at a corner table Kate told him about her visit to Cornelius.

‘First of all, he got me there on false pretences by saying he’d got a rash,’ Kate told him, ‘and I don’t know what he’d have done if Elaine went instead of me.’

‘Perhaps he’s just got some sort of fetish about nurses,’ Woody suggested.

She described the dark, gloomy room and the horror-film posters decorating the walls. Then she told him about Cornelius’s invitation to dinner.

Woody took a hefty swig of his pint. ‘Let’s face it, you’re not a bad-looking old broad!’

‘Old broad!’ Kate spluttered. ‘Rinse your mouth out, Abe!’ She knew how much he hated to be reminded of his real name. ‘Just watch who you’re calling an old broad!’

‘Less of the Abe!’ he instructed. ‘Anyway, I like old broads and you’re probably the best old broad around here. And seems like our friend Cornelius reckons that too.’

‘Do you think he planned to poison me?’ Kate asked.

‘Possibly,’ Woody said with a grin. ‘We can’t rule it out. On the other hand he might have cooked you a cordon bleu meal and completely won you over. Just be flattered, my love!’ He peered at her over the rim of his glass. ‘Not everything the residents say up there makes them killers. But, on that subject, what about the Pratts? After all, he was the person who supposedly “found” Sharon Starkey at the foot of the stairs.’

‘But he was never a suspect. Gloria Pratt was the suspect.’

‘They’re all suspects,’ Woody said, ‘every single one of them, including the three old girls downstairs, not to mention Stan Starkey himself.’

‘But Stan, according to Hetty, was at the far end of the garden at the time Sharon was killed,’ Kate pointed out.

‘Stan was at the far end of the garden after Sharon was killed,’ Woody corrected. ‘He could have had time to get out there before all the dozy oldies emerged from their apartments.’

‘But why on earth would he have wanted to kill his own wife?’ Kate asked. ‘He was distraught when her body was found.’

‘That could have been an act, Kate.’ Then Woody, seeing Kate’s horrified expression, added, ‘I’m not saying it was. I’m just saying that some of the killers I’ve met over the years would have earned Oscars for their performances, for the weeping and the wailing. You’re too trusting.’

‘I just don’t think Stan would have done it,’ Kate said firmly. ‘They were a nice ordinary couple.’

Woody shook his head. ‘That’s what I mean when I say you’re too trusting. But that’s one of the things I like about you.’

‘Now you’re being patronising,’ Kate snapped. ‘And don’t forget, I’m a pretty good judge of character.’

‘Yes, you are. Believe me, I want this thing done and dusted just as much as you do. If we don’t get it sorted out soon I’m in danger of having to cancel my trip to California. I’m supposed to have retired but I’m up there every damned day at the moment. OK, can we change the subject now? How’s that sister of yours making out with her business project?’

Kate sighed. ‘She’s obsessed with the idea of this bar. And of course Fergal is over the moon, but why wouldn’t he be when he’s going to be ensconced in a nice little flat? Anyway, the transaction appears to be going through and Angie has swapped being an artist and is