‘We can cope with the breakfasts, gal. And we don’t know what’s going to happen after that. They might want them to stay, or they might send them home.’
‘Surely they’ll want them to stay, at least for today, until they’ve interviewed everyone.’
‘In that case you just carry on with your programme, and they’ll let Harry in all right. Or they’ll send someone for the food. Don’t worry. Nothing we can do about it, anyway.’ Hetty shrugged and started cracking eggs.
‘I bet some of the guests won’t see it that way,’ said Libby.
‘Then more fool them. You already got the better of them constables this morning, you can hold your own with this lot.’
Somehow, Hetty and Libby got the breakfast out. The bacon, eggs and tomatoes stood ready in chafing dishes, toast wrapped in napkins on a warming plate and large insulated pots of tea and coffee. Libby made sure all the tables were properly laid and went back to the sitting room to see if any of the guests had reappeared. Only Patrick Joseph and another younger man were there discussing something earnestly by the window.
‘Gentlemen,’ said Libby, ‘breakfast is ready in the dining room. Can I ask you to let the other guests know if possible? We have no staff this morning for obvious reasons.’
‘What?’ said the man who had been talking to Patrick Joseph. ‘Why?’
Patrick looked at him pityingly. ‘The police won’t let anyone in, of course, Nick.’
‘Oh.’ He looked confused, then held out his hand to Libby. ‘We didn’t meet yesterday, not properly. I’m Nick Forrest.’
Libby took the proffered hand, remembering seeing the slight, dark man hovering in the background yesterday. And wasn’t he with Patrick and Lily on their way back from the pub? She smiled.
‘I wish I could say I hope you’re enjoying yourself.’
‘Oh, I was.’ Nick Forrest shot a quick look at Patrick. ‘Lovely place. And I was looking forward to hearing Amanda George speak. She seems very nice.’
‘Oh, she is. And we hope the police will allow us to carry on with the programme as far as we’re able, as I expect they’ll want you to stay around today.’
‘I’m sure they will.’ Patrick gave her a warm smile. ‘And we appreciate all you’re doing.’ He turned to Forrest. ‘Come on, Nick, let’s get to the breakfast before the ravening hordes.’
Libby made her way to the estate office and found Ben and Wallingford peering at Ben’s computer together.
‘Breakfast’s served,’ she said. ‘Did you want some, Ben?’
‘I’ll get something in the kitchen later.’ He looked up at her. ‘Look at this, Lib.’
Libby peered at the screen. ‘That’s my late booking. I told you. And it had been ticked off on the form, don’t you remember?’
‘But have you ever seen her?’ DS Wallingford straightened up from the desk.
‘I – er – I don’t know.’ Libby was bewildered. ‘I assumed she was with the group in the dining room yesterday.’
‘Was there anyone there you didn’t remember having seen before?’
Libby looked at Ben. ‘Honestly – I don’t know. I didn’t greet all the guests myself.’
‘So someone could have slipped through the net?’ Wallingford sounded stern.
‘We did wonder yesterday,’ said Ben. ‘But Lily Cooper would have known if someone was missing or if it was someone she didn’t know.’
‘I’ll go and chase up her list.’ Wallingford started for the door.
‘Do you want a print-out of our list?’ asked Ben.
‘Please.’ Wallingford disappeared. Ben and Libby looked at each other.
‘Rude, or busy?’ said Libby.
‘Busy,’ said Ben. ‘And slightly rattled. He’s nervous for some reason.’
‘Because it’s a murder investigation and he’s only a DS? Wouldn’t it normally be a DI?’
‘That’s always been our experience,’ said Ben, retrieving the list from the printer. ‘But maybe not always.’
‘It’s early days,’ said Libby. ‘I expect a DI will turn up sooner or later. Let’s hope it’s Ian.’
‘It can’t always be him,’ said Ben following her out of the office. ‘It could be old what’shisname from Canterbury.’
‘Murray. Our Donnie, remember?’ Libby grinned over her shoulder.
‘Oh, yes, his dreadful wife. Did they ever come to the panto?’
DCI Don Murray had been the senior investigating officer on the first murder case Libby, Ben and Fran had been involved in, and had been given tickets to the opening production at the Oast House Theatre. The theatre had been transformed from a no longer working oast house by Ben, a former architect, and opened with a play about his family’s history by his cousin Peter. It had caused some distress to the family in the end, which was why Libby had been worried about Hetty’s reaction earlier in the kitchen. She needn’t have worried.
‘Bloody hell, Lib, you ought to know her by now,’ said Ben, when she voiced these concerns. ‘She’s put all that behind her. Now, where’s that Wallingford?’
They found him with Lily Cooper in the sitting room.
‘Here’s the list for comparison,’ said Ben, nodding at Lily Cooper, who was now dressed in an unsuitable pale blue outfit that looked rather as though she’d just got in after a night on the tiles.
The young sergeant bent over the two lists, frowning, then looked up.
‘There’s an extra name here,’ he said to Libby. ‘Do you know who this is?’ He turned to Lily.
Lily looked at the list and scowled. ‘No, I don’t.’ She looked up at Libby as if it was her fault.
‘That’s the late booking I told you about,’ Libby said. ‘Mrs Ann Marsh.’ She put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, God, is it her?’
‘If no one admits to having seen her, we won’t know, will we?’ said DS Wallingford, standing up and scowling in his turn.
‘She was booked into the last Hoppers’ Hut,’ said Libby. ‘Have you looked in there?’
DS Wallingford shot her an irritated glance. ‘No reason to, have we? And which one is it?’
‘I’ll show you,’ said Libby meekly.
‘First, I need to show a picture of the victim to all your guests. When they’ve finished their breakfasts.’
‘Oh, dear,’ said Libby. ‘Couldn’t I show you the hut first? We could find out first if she’s my missing guest.’
Wallingford sighed. ‘All right. Come on. Mrs Cooper, if you would not talk about this to anyone, please. I’ll see you here when I get back.’
Outside, Ben led the way to where the Hoppers’ Huts stood, past the ominous white tent and blue-and-white-suited figures that surrounded it. Libby, after one look, averted her eyes. This was a lot closer than she normally got to murder.
The hut let to Mrs Ann Marsh was a small one in the middle of the row. Ben tried the door and found it open.
A handbag sat on the bedside table, toiletries on the dressing table and in the bin a take-away carton.
‘That’s why she wasn’t at dinner last night.’ Libby frowned. ‘But why not? She was ticked off before dinner.’
‘This,’ said DS Wallingford, who was going through the handbag with gloved hands, ‘is not Mrs Ann Marsh.’
‘Oh.’ Libby was puzzled. ‘But I took her name and that was the name on the credit card she paid with.’
‘In that case,’ said the sergeant, ‘this is a different woman.’ He held up a driving licence. ‘That is the woman we found, but her name, according to this, is not Ann Marsh.’
‘What is it, then?’ asked Ben.
‘Melanie Joseph,’ said Wallingford.
Chapter Four
LIBBY GASPED. ‘IT CAN’T be!’
‘Why?’ Wallingford was looking at her closely.
‘One of our guests is Patrick Joseph. He’s quite a famous writer.’
‘Wife? Sister?’ Wallingford looked at the driving licence again.
‘But why did she say she was Ann Marsh?’ asked Libby.<
br />
‘We don’t know that she did,’ said Ben. ‘Ann Marsh might yet turn up.’
Libby shook her head. ‘No. Ann Marsh was ticked off on the form last night against Hoppers’ Hut five – this one. And somehow she’d got the key. We still don’t know how she managed that, either.’
Wallingford heaved a sigh. ‘Well, we’ll take this and show it to Mr Joseph and get a search party organised for in here.’ He pulled a face. ‘I’ll be glad to hand this one over.’
Libby and Ben preceded him out of the hut. ‘Is someone else coming, then?’ asked Libby. ‘As SIO?’
He sent her a sharp look, then paused. ‘Ah. Now I remember.’
Libby’s heart sank.
‘You’re DCI Connell’s friend. Are you the psychic one?’
‘No,’ said Libby weakly. ‘But she’s here, too.’
‘Saints preserve us,’ sighed Wallingford. ‘Well, you’ll be pleased to know that yes, he was to have been the SIO, but he withdrew when he heard where the case was.’
‘Did you say DCI?’ said Ben. ‘Has he been promoted?’
‘Yes.’ Wallingford strode forward towards the Manor. Libby raised her eyebrows at Ben and they hurried along behind him.
In the sitting room, Patrick Joseph was sitting near Lily Cooper, who looked hunted. Libby nodded. ‘That’s him,’ she whispered.
‘Mr Joseph?’ said Wallingford. ‘Could I have a moment, sir?’
Patrick Joseph looked up with his warm smile.
‘What can I do for you – er – Sergeant?’
Wallingford looked uncomfortable.
‘Would you like to use my office?’ said Ben. ‘You know the way.’
Wallingford gave him a smile which seemed to Libby to hold an appeal of some sort, but she knew neither she nor Ben could go with the two men and offer moral support to either. This was to be Wallingford’s unpleasant job.
‘Well.’ Libby turned towards the kitchen. ‘What happened?’
‘How do I know?’ Ben was frowning. ‘Come to check up on him incognito?’
‘That’s what it looks like,’ said Libby, ‘but would he kill her just for that?’
‘Someone killed her, and I can’t see who else it could have been.’
‘Lily Cooper,’ said Libby with satisfaction.
‘Just because you don’t like her,’ said Ben, moving the big kettle on to the hotplate of the Aga.
‘Don’t like who?’ Hetty appeared from the pantry with her arms full of vegetables.
‘The Lily Cooper woman,’ said Libby.
‘Wandering around at night in something I’d be ashamed to call a nightie,’ muttered Hetty.
‘What?’ said Ben and Libby together.
Hetty dumped the vegetables by the sink. ‘I get up early. I reckoned she’d bin in a room she shouldn’t have oughter.’
‘Where was she?’ said Libby.
‘In the corridor outside my flat. Lorst, I shouldn’t wonder.’ Hetty smirked.
‘You must tell that detective, Mum,’ said Ben.
Hetty sniffed. ‘I will if he asks.’
‘We’ll tell him,’ said Libby. ‘Then he’ll come and ask you.’ She turned to Ben. ‘Pity Ian isn’t coming himself.’
‘Because of “where it is” indeed.’ Ben laughed. ‘Because you’re here, more likely.’
‘He knows too many of us,’ said Libby, ‘not just me. It would compromise the investigation. I wonder who they’ll send?’
‘Might be our first guess, Donnie Murray.’
‘Or someone entirely new. There must be more than two DCIs at Nethergate and Canterbury.’
One of the uniformed constables tapped nervously at the open kitchen door.
‘’Scuse me, but DS Wallingford said could I make some tea and take it to the office? Sorry to bother you.’ He glanced at Libby as if waiting for her to refuse.
‘That’ll be for Mr Joseph,’ she said. ‘It’s all right, we’re just making some. We’ll put it on a tray for you.’
Hetty, looking curious, immediately got out a small teapot and laid up a tray with mugs, milk and sugar. Libby filled the teapot and handed the tray to the constable, who gave her a servile nod.
‘For Mr Joseph?’ asked Hetty.
Libby explained.
‘Poor bloke. Bit up himself, if you ask me, but that shouldn’t happen to anyone.’
‘It might change who they put in charge,’ said Ben, hitching himself onto the corner of the table. ‘He’s quite a famous author. The police might feel it’s a higher profile case.’
‘They won’t put in a superintendent as an SIO,’ said Libby, ‘and they don’t call in Scotland Yard any more.’
‘Well, I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,’ said Hetty. ‘I’m getting on with the lunch.’
Libby, clutching a mug, wandered off to find out what the rest of the house party were doing. She wasn’t surprised to find Rosie calmly giving a talk in the small sitting room which had been allocated for the purpose. All the guests appeared to be there, except Patrick Joseph. Even Lily Cooper was at the back, although she didn’t look as though she wanted to be. Satisfied, Libby went outside to see if the police presence had abated. It hadn’t. In fact, there was a new car there now, a dark, top-of-the-range current model. She wondered if this was the new SIO. The ambulance had gone, but been replaced by what looked like a hearse in disguise. So the body was still there, then. She suddenly realised she had no idea how the woman had been killed.
‘And I suppose we can’t ask,’ she said to Ben on returning to the kitchen.
‘You know more about all the other cases you’ve been involved in, and you’re closer to this one,’ said Ben. ‘It’s a different prospect, isn’t it?’
The young constable appeared in the doorway again.
‘Could you come back into the – er – other room, please. The sergeant would like a word.’
Hetty dried her hands on a tea towel, Ben and Libby put down their mugs and followed the constable to the sitting room, where all the other guests had reluctantly reassembled. Libby went over to Fran and Rosie.
‘Did they interrupt your talk?’
Rosie shrugged. ‘Hardly matters. I don’t think people were attending really. I was just giving them something else to focus on.’
DS Wallingford appeared from the direction of the office followed by another young man with a dark suit and a cheerful expression.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to disturb you again, but the officer in charge has asked that all of you be interviewed individually, as soon as possible, so myself and DC Sharif will talk to you one by one in –’ he looked over at Libby.
‘The dining room?’ she suggested.
‘The dining room.’ He turned to Lily Cooper. ‘Would you come with me, please, and could another of you go with DC Sharif?’
One of the middle-aged ladies got up to follow the other officer, and Lily Cooper reluctantly followed DS Wallingford. Libby filled Fran and Rosie in with everything that had happened so far that morning.
‘But don’t say anything. I don’t know whether they’ll tell people it’s Patrick’s wife or not. Assuming it is.’
‘That’s why he isn’t here,’ said Fran, looking round the room. ‘The new boss is presumably still interrogating him.’
‘Or sympathising.’ Libby sighed. ‘I suppose they’ll want to search all the rooms. What a nuisance.’
‘More of a nuisance for Patrick and his wife,’ said Fran.
‘I know. Sorry.’ Libby drummed her fingers on the back of a chair. ‘Do you think we’ve really just got to stay here until we’ve been questioned? I wanted to bring coffee in.’
‘Ask when the next person comes out,’ said Rosie. At that moment the woman who had been in with DC Sharif came out and Sharif poked his head round the door. Libby put up a hand and went quickly towards him.
‘I’m the host of this conference and I wanted to bring in coffee for everybody, so could you see me now? Then I can get back to
the kitchen.’
DC Sharif looked doubtfully over his shoulder to where Wallingford sat with Lily Cooper.
‘Oh, I expect it’ll be all right,’ he said. ‘Come in.’
Libby followed him to a corner where he had set up two chairs well away from Wallingford.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘Could I have your name?’
‘Libby Sarjeant with a J.’
‘Thank you. And you said you’re the host? What exactly does that mean?’
Libby explained.
‘And when did you last see Mrs Joseph?’
‘Oh, so it is really Mrs Joseph, then? Only she booked in as Ann Marsh.’
Sharif looked up. ‘Oh? And when did you last see her?’
Libby explained about the mysterious signing in. ‘After DS Wallingford found her driving licence I assumed she kept out of sight because she wanted to confront her husband and didn’t want to give him any warning.’
Sharif remained impassive. ‘So you knew nothing about any of the other guests? You’d never met them before?’
‘Only Mrs Wolfe and Mrs George. Mrs George is giving some talks and Mrs Wolfe is a friend of mine and a student of Mrs George.’
‘Student? What does Mrs George teach?’
Libby raised her eyebrows. ‘Creative Writing, of course. She’s a famous author.’
‘Patrick Joseph’s a famous author, too, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, fairly,’ said Libby.
‘Did they know one another?’
‘I believe they’d met before. But all the other guests had met before at a previous writer’s holiday or something. They’d know more than I would.’
‘And you can’t think of anything else you’ve noticed? Anything that would help us? Were you here last night?’
‘No, we went home.’ Libby suddenly remembered. ‘But my mother-in-law was here. That was when she saw Mrs Cooper outside her room.’
Libby and Sharif both looked over at Wallingford, who, somehow sensing their gaze, looked up. Sharif made a gesture and he and Wallingford both rose and went to the window out of hearing. Libby watched Lily Cooper who looked quite beaten, then Wallingford came back and bent towards her, speaking very softly. She reared back and stood up, knocking over her chair. Libby looked uncomfortably at DC Sharif.
Murder at the Manor - Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery Series Page 3
