Death at Rainbow Cottage by Jo Allen (book club books txt) 📗

— for all three of them having a connection with Phil, too, if you took into account the vagueness of his whereabouts on the day that Len had died and the even vaguer possibility that he and George had somehow fallen out over the Rainbow Festival. Doddsy saw that both Jude and Faye had made notes to that effect, though neither of them seemed to want to pick up on it just then. No doubt they’d leave it until Doddsy was absent and chew to over then. He’d feel his ears burning, no doubt.

‘Let’s talk about Claud.’ Faye sighed.

Doddsy liked Claud but he sensed a certain shiftiness behind his bumptiousness. ‘I’ve something to add, too. An update from the CSI team. They gave me a description of the jacket in which the knife had been wrapped. It came from a brown suit. I don’t know the exact measurement, but they said it looked as if it would fit a short, broad-shouldered male.’ He flicked up the picture that had come through on his iPad and laid it on the table.

‘We’ll know for certain when we get the results from the lab, of course,’ said Jude, after a moment’s consideration, ‘but that certainly looks like the suit Claud was wearing for the workshops.’

‘It also ties in with some information I’ve had back from the Intelligence Unit about his laptop.’ Faye wasn’t, Doddsy sensed, a woman who ever took particular pleasure in the process of delivering information, unlike Chris, who had a theatrical streak and liked a bit of drama, or Ashleigh, who uploaded new knowledge as swiftly as possible to the relevant person. Faye’s approach was more measured, more logical, adding information onto a stream where it became relevant, rather than a random fact or where it would distract from something equally important. ‘They were able to retrieve data from the hard drive. God knows how. Claud was a regular contributor to activist forums and some more general ones.’

‘Okay.’ Jude was leaning forward, a look of keen interest on his face. ‘Is there any connection with Len? We don’t know that he used dating websites, but it’s possible. I don’t think we’ve got the full analysis of his laptop yet. It’s unlikely Giles did, under the circumstances, but you never know.’

‘That I don’t know. They sent me that piece of information as soon as they had it. I’ll let you know both minute I hear anything else from them.’

‘I don’t have Claud down as gay.’ Doddsy rubbed his chin. ‘I don’t know why not, because although he’s married that doesn’t rule it out.’

‘And devoted to Natalie,’ contributed Jude, ‘though of course you’re right. Just because he’s fetched up in a stable relationship with a woman doesn’t mean anything, in itself.’

‘He’s so very gay-friendly. I’m pretty damned sure that at one level he’d quite like to be. Although of course it would equally suit his purpose to make a stand for gay rights from the perspective of a straight man. He’s so keen on making out that we’re all equal.’

‘Of course we’re all equal,’ Faye said, accusing him with her gaze.

‘Yeah. Sure. We are.’ And Doddsy shook his head and let it go.

Chapter 22

‘What, is your man off to work already?’ Lisa was in the kitchen when Ashleigh let herself into the house. ‘It’s barely nine o’clock. Still, I’m glad you’re here. I had a couple of sherbets too many last night so you can make me a cup of coffee to kick-start me.’

‘Make it yourself. It’s a matter of boiling the kettle.’

‘Oh, Ash.’ Lisa sank down at the kitchen table, running hands through her rumpled hair, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. A routine hangover acquired the panache of a Greek tragedy. ‘It would save my life. Be a pet. It’s Saturday.’

‘I’m making it for myself anyway.’

‘Great. Lifesaver. Thanks.’ Lisa unfolded the newspaper and leafed through it while Ashleigh filled the cafetière. ‘I see your mate at the newspaper has rumbled your friend Faye. You don’t fancy rustling me up a full English while you’re at it, do you?’ She winked.

‘Don’t push your luck.’ Ashleigh put the cafetière down and tried not to look at the newspaper. ‘I wouldn’t call either of them my pal. Just as well the newspapers are more interested in corpses than scandal.’ She looked out of the window as a jogger ran past, but it wasn’t Natalie.

‘They’re not exactly short of them just now. Three in a week. And bloody ones.’ Despite her self-inflicted misery, Lisa managed to find some sympathy. ‘Gruesome for you. Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ But Ashleigh scanned the newspaper with distaste. ‘I don’t think it’s helpful making a song and dance about it. And Faye’s background has nothing to do with it.’

‘It’s all about bread and circuses. They rely on these things to keep their circulation up.’ Lisa was an archaeologist by profession, but her fascination with history was as broad as the world itself.

‘You think I don’t know that? I suspect this story is a journalist trying to make a name for herself and this is the only angle she can think of that someone else hasn’t covered.’

Lisa looked into the depths of her cup as if she were reading the coffee grounds. ‘It’s just as well you didn't talk to her. At least your conscience is clear.’

‘Faye’s already looking poison at me.’ But then, she looked poison at everyone, with the sole exception of Claud Blackwell. Perhaps, after all, it wasn’t personal. ‘Remember, I did talk to her.’

‘Only because she cornered you, and then again, you gave a flat no comment. It’s hardly the same.’

‘True. But if she does come up with anything else, you can bet your life the finger will point at me. Especially with that call on my phone.’

‘You didn’t answer it. That’ll be logged too, won’t it?’ Lisa was