‘Watching the –’ Max shook his head.
‘And the Manor, of course. Sadly only after Wednesday, or we might have found him a lot earlier.’
‘But how –?’
‘Why –?’
‘When did he –?’
The questions were coming thick and fast.
‘Not now,’ said Ian. ‘I’ll be able to tell you a lot more later, but meanwhile, enjoy your last night tomorrow dancing to Sergio Padista’s music.’
Libby and Ben followed him out into the hall.
‘Thank you, Ian, that was nice of you to drive all the way out here,’ said Libby.
‘I had to collect something from his room, anyway,’ said Ian. ‘The original score that Sergio had sent Max a year ago.’
‘How would Max have not recognised it, then?’ asked Ben.
‘He never saw it,’ said Ian. ‘Oh, yes it’s all come pouring out, now. And the fact that he actually saw Stan Willis putting the cockerel in Tom Matthews’ locker in London and threatened to tell Max. He says he was actually going to, but Stan countered by knowing about the music. Stan was a snoop, apparently, and poked his nose in everywhere. He found the score and recognised it and that was that.’
Ian opened the door. ‘I’ll tell you as much as I can when I can. Meanwhile go and calm those boys down.’
Fran and Guy, with Sophie, arrived in time for an early dinner the following evening with Ben and Libby.
‘So it was Damian all along. Nothing to do with witches or black magic,’ said Fran, sipping a glass of Sancerre.
‘Not in Damian’s case, although it was in Stan’s,’ said Libby, placing an enormous bowl of chilli on the table. ‘And, of course, young Paul’s. He was a member of a witch cult, as we thought he might be, not a religious cult. He was terribly muddled about it, but even so, he had nothing to do with the incidents in London or the attacks down here. Stan, though, was, as we thought, completely against the whole witchcraft thing after his father’s involvement with the fake Medmenham movement. Damian was scathing about Stan, Ian said. He blamed him for not facing up to his sexuality and for hating his father, yet using him.’
‘Using him?’ asked Guy.
‘Yes, to get people off young Sebastian’s back after he got into trouble over drugs,’ said Ben. ‘They kept tabs on each other, Stan and Wally Willis.’
‘So what about the rat?’ asked Fran.
‘And the knife in the curtain?’ said Guy.
‘That was Damian. Max forgot to tell us he’d lent keys to Damian to “pop back” to the theatre on Sunday evening.’ Libby shook her head. ‘He completely fooled us, yet Ian said each attack was completely unplanned and panic-driven.’
‘What was the reason for Max’s attack?’ asked Guy.
‘Damian had got paranoid by this time, and was expecting to be found out and exposed all the time. When Max went to the theatre on Sunday and up into the box he was sure he’d found something. So he followed him in, hit him over the head and damaged the equipment, hoping they wouldn’t be able to use the music.’ Libby poured herself more Merlot.
‘But I thought Sebastian had breakfast with Damian that morning?’ said Fran.
‘Damian was already there, and left almost as soon as Max had gone. That was one of the things Seb was hiding. He’d begun to suspect Damian. Why he didn’t say anything, heaven knows. I suppose he was scared,’ said Ben.
‘And as far as Paddy was concerned,’ said Libby, ‘they were talking in the interval on Wednesday – I saw them. Paddy told him Sergio had been supposed to come down with him and commented how like Sergio’s compositions the score was. That was enough for Damian. Complete panic again. How he lured Paddy outside we’ll never know.’
‘Cigarette?’ suggested Sophie.
‘I don’t think either of them smoked, but maybe,’ said Libby. ‘Anyway, again it was a spur of the moment thing.’
‘And by Thursday night he was in a complete funk,’ Ben went on. ‘If Paddy came round he’d identify him, unlike Max who never saw him, and on Saturday Sergio would identify the score. So he ran.’
‘Where did he run to?’ asked Fran.
‘The bus stop on the Canterbury road.’ Ben looked amused. ‘He was apparently going to curl up in the shelter until the first bus came. He thought no one would notice he’d gone.’
‘But Ian was already suspicious of him, and the officer set to watch the pub called it in and followed. A patrol car came and collected them and that was that.’
‘So he was safe in police custody all day and you didn’t know?’ said Fran. ‘That was a bit mean of Ian, wasn’t it?’
‘I suppose there was no need to let us know. He said he would have told us before the performance, but we called him first.’
‘But he still didn’t tell you.’
‘He didn’t want to worry anybody, he said.’ Libby snorted. ‘I think he just wanted his dramatic moment.’
‘So that’s that,’ said Guy. ‘Another adventure over.’
Libby sat back in her chair and lifted her glass. ‘And I’m –’
‘Never going to get involved again,’ chanted everybody else.
END
Other titles in the Libby Sarjeant Series
by
Lesley Cookman
Shadows and Sins
by
Andrea Frazer
The thirteenth in the best-selling Falconer Files by Andrea Frazer.
The body of a woman has been discovered in Castle Farthing Woods, and it appears that although she had been dead for years, nobody had ever reported her missing. DI Harry Falconer of the Market Darley police is perplexed – and not only in his working life. He has recently resumed his relationship with Dr Honey Dubois – but in the course of his investigations, unsettling memories of a former love are revived.
Then the bodies start to come thick and fast…
As Falconer’s sidekick DS Carmichael is coping with the early birth of his twins, the DI is forced to form a closer bond with his new constable, as they try to solve a nightmare conundrum. For Falconer is forced to confront the fact that someone has been committing these murders his very nose: he is forced to acknowledge that, in the midst of beautiful countryside and quaint market towns, there is a serial killer on the loose…
For more information on Lesley Cookman
and other Accent Press titles,
please visit
www.accentpress.co.uk
Published by Accent Press Ltd 2016
ISBN 9781783756902
Copyright © Lesley Cookman 2016
The right of Lesley Cookman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Accent Press Ltd, Ty Cynon House, Navigation Park, Abercynon, CF45 4SN
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