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

‘Well, lock them away. And it’s not safe for you to be there, Kate, believe me.’

‘The window will be fixed tomorrow,’ Kate said firmly, ‘and I’ll move into the spare bedroom tonight. I’m not moving out.’

‘There’ll be police patrolling the area all night and every night until we catch the killer,’ Woody said. ‘Now, have you been talking to any of the original suspects lately? Apart from Maureen of course. Could you have upset someone? Seymour Barker-Jones perhaps?’

‘No, I only see Seymour occasionally when I walk the dog and we have a chat.’ She decided it wasn’t a good idea to tell Woody that she’d mentioned her list to Seymour. ‘But I think I definitely managed to upset both Sandra Miller and Dickie Payne.’ Kate then proceeded to tell him about her afternoon tea at The Atlantic Hotel followed by her visit to the Paynes. ‘I’m not Sandra Miller’s greatest fan, but she’s the fiery quick-tempered type and I can’t see her waiting a couple of days to get her revenge. I’m not sure about Dickie Payne though; there’s something a little bit menacing about that man.’

‘Don’t let his weird collection of medical stuff influence you,’ Woody said. He withdrew an envelope from a drawer in his desk and placed the note and the rail tickets inside it before placing them carefully into his briefcase. ‘Who have you told about this note?’

‘No one,’ Kate replied truthfully.

‘No one at all? What about Angie?’

‘No, I didn’t tell Angie because I knew she’d likely panic and go running to the police, and then I wouldn’t have been allowed to go to London and bring Maureen and the tickets back. So, you see, there was method in my madness!’

‘Kate, are you working tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘Yes, always on Mondays.’

‘The moment you’ve finished can you please come up to the station here and make a formal statement?’

‘Of course,’ Kate said, ‘but on one condition: that you don’t go arresting Maureen again if and when you release Billy.’

‘Will there be anything else, madam?’ There was a touch of sarcasm in Woody’s voice although he was smiling.

‘Yes, I’d love a cup of coffee.’

Twenty-Five

Kate arrived back at Lavender Cottage to find Angie, still in her dressing gown, peeling potatoes.

‘I’m sorry about last night,’ she said as Kate came in.

‘So you should be. What on earth got into you?’

Angie sighed. ‘I was just feeling a bit low. I know I’m past my prime, Kate, but do you think I’m still reasonably attractive?’

Kate stared at her sister. ‘What’s brought this on? Of course you’re still attractive! This wouldn’t have something to do with Luke, would it?’

‘Well, he seems to have gone off me. This Brett has suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He’s only eighteen, an art student and apparently Luke used to teach him art at school when he was a kid. Did you know Luke used to be an art teacher?’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Now this Brett’s looking for a summer job and somewhere to stay and he’s moved in with Luke. And he’s going to be working with Luke for the next few months.’ Angie sniffed noisily. ‘I seem to have outlived my attractiveness and my usefulness.’

‘I’m sorry about that, Angie. I know you were fond of him. You can’t blame yourself though – sounds like this Brett might be more his type, if you see what I mean.’

There was silence except for the chop, chop, chop as Angie massacred an onion.

‘I’ve prepared some lamb shanks for our supper later,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry about last night but I just felt rejected and discarded and unwanted.’

Kate moved across and hugged her sister. ‘Angie, you’ll never be unwanted or rejected! You just chose the wrong guy. You can’t compete with Brett and that’s that.’

Angie clung on to Kate. ‘I feel a fool. I should have known.’

‘You’re not a fool, Angie. You’re a normal affectionate woman. You’ll meet someone else; you’ve got masses of time yet.’

‘I’m nearly sixty!’ she moaned as she extricated herself.

‘Hey, sixty’s supposed to be the new forty! Remember what our mum used to say? “What’s for you won’t go past you” – she was forever saying that.’

‘Maybe there’s nothing for me. And nobody’s bought my painting yet.’

‘Angie, the season’s only just beginning. There’ll be hordes of people visiting here in the coming months and I bet someone will buy it.’

Angie blew her nose. ‘I hope you’re right. Anyway, what have you been up to in London?’

‘Maureen Grey disappeared and I had a hunch as to where I might find her. And I did.’ She gave Angie brief details of her trip. ‘More importantly, are you quite sure this guy’s coming to fix my window tomorrow morning? And you’ll be here, won’t you?’

‘Yes, I’ll be here. He said he’d be here around nine. What’s the panic all of a sudden? The window’s been like that ever since we moved in and I thought you liked fresh air on your face?’

‘Not as much as I used to,’ Kate said drily, wondering whether it was wise to inform Angie about the intruder. Bearing in mind that the police might well be calling she decided she’d better. Kate tried to sound matter of fact about it for Angie’s sake, but she was feeling more anxious and apprehensive than she cared to admit, even to herself. When she’d finished, Angie sat down on a kitchen chair, ashen-faced.

‘You could have been killed! We could both have been killed! Who on earth would do such a thing? Why do they think you know something?’

‘I really have no idea,’ Kate said.

‘It’s that bloody list of yours! You’ve been chasing after the people on it, haven’t you? And one of them doesn’t like it.’

‘That’s about it,’ Kate agreed. ‘I thought I should tell you because the police may call in from time to time, and the scene of crime officers will be arriving soon to look for clues.’

‘It could still be my serial killer,’ Angie groaned. ‘I think he’s out there looking for someone else