‘Oh, not until eleven thirty,’ said Jane. ‘Just once round the island. People want to see it, so both boats are doing trips round it, one after the other. Ridiculous, really.’
‘Well, I’ll come, thank you,’ said Fran. ‘I’ll ring Libby and ask. What’s happened about your tenant?’
‘Oh, she told you, did she?’ Jane looked excited. ‘Well one chap produced references immediately, apparently, and paid by credit card, so that’s it, he’s coming on Monday.’
‘References can be forged, you know,’ said Fran.
‘Oh, no, I asked about that, as it seemed suspicious if he had them with him. Apparently he told them to look up some firm or other and ask for someone. Wouldn’t even give them the number in case it was a false one with someone primed at the other end. And they did, and that was that. I call that honest.’
And I call that over-prepared, thought Fran.
‘Well,’ she said out loud, ‘I’m very glad for you. What did your friend Terry think of him?’
‘I don’t really know,’ said Jane; her colour was beginning to rise, Fran noted interestedly.
‘How did you like the audition the other evening?’ she asked, deeming it wise to change the subject.
‘Oh, it was great! Libby showed me round the theatre and everyone was so nice to me. Some of them are really good, aren’t they?’
‘Certainly are,’ said Fran with a grin, wondering who the “some” were, and whether the rest would agree.
‘Well, I must get off,’ said Jane. ‘I promised I’d get some stuff for George. Bert’s already gone out on the first trip round the island, so I haven’t got to get anything for him.’
‘I hope you’re not letting them take advantage of you?’ said Fran as she held the door open for the girl.
‘Oh, no. They were both so kind to me when I was first here, I couldn’t do enough for them.’ Jane smiled and almost skipped off towards the town. What a transformation, thought Fran. And all because Libby interfered. But, nevertheless, a girl who was far too trusting to be a reporter.
Libby was delighted to be asked to go on the Dolphin and promised to be with Fran by eleven fifteen at the latest. In fact she arrived at five past, so they strolled down to have a coffee at The Blue Anchor.
Mavis came out to present Libby with one of her battered tin ashtrays. Libby beamed at her.
‘So,’ she said, when they’d given their order. ‘Are we looking for anything special?’
‘What?’ Fran looked startled. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, clues.’ Libby lit a cigarette. ‘On the island.’
‘Of course not,’ said Fran. ‘This is just a pleasure trip.’ She looked out to sea. ‘I decided to give it all a rest. I’m not even going to think about it this weekend. And if nothing comes up then I shall tell Ian on Monday and he can call Kent and Coast off.’
‘Won’t you tell McLean yourself?’
Fran shook her head. ‘He’d only badger me into it. I want it official, from the police. Even if it isn’t strictly official, if you know what I mean.’
Libby nodded. ‘Thanks,’ she said, as Mavis set down two large steaming mugs. ‘That’s lovely.’ She turned back to Fran. ‘Well, I can’t say I’m sorry.’
Fran laughed. ‘That’s not like you! You’re the one raring to get your nose stuck into someone else’s business usually.’
‘I know, but this one’s nothing to do with us, we’ve got no personal interest and it looks pretty unsavoury. Murder of an illegal immigrant.’ She shuddered. ‘Sounds so serious.’
‘Murder’s always serious,’ said Fran, amused. ‘It’s also always unsavoury.’
Libby sighed. ‘I know. But somehow this one’s different. Right outside the comfort zone.’
‘Which one of the others has been inside, then?’ said Fran.
Libby pulled a face. ‘Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, there doesn’t seem to be any way of identifying our body, unless the police have had a bit of luck, and until that’s done there’s nothing anyone can do, so we might as well give it up and enjoy the weather.’
Fran smiled and raised her mug in a toast. ‘Cheers,’ she said. ‘And speaking of enjoying the weather, here comes young Jane with a basket of goodies.’
‘Just like Red Riding Hood,’ said Libby, watching the small, brown haired figure coming towards them at a trot.
‘Hi,’ said Jane, slightly out of breath. ‘Glad you could come, Libby.’
‘Do you want a hand onto the boat with that?’ asked Libby, surveying with interest the basket full of fresh French sticks and greaseproof wrapping which betokened an exciting selection of items from the local deli.
‘No, it’s fine,’ said Jane, shaking back her brown bob. ‘I’ll take it over to George. We always give passengers a little something to eat.’
‘That’s more than a little something,’ said Fran. ‘I hope he’s not running at a loss.’
‘Oh, I shouldn’t think so,’ said Jane. ‘He’s quite a canny old bird.’
‘What a quaint expression for a modern young woman,’ said Libby, watching Jane climb down the steps on to the Dolphin.
‘She’s a very quaint modern young woman,’ said Fran. ‘I thought that when she turned up on my doorstep that day. And you can’t tell me it’s normal that she hasn’t made any friends except those two old men since she’s been here.’
‘I can understand it,’ said Libby. ‘It made perfect sense when she explained it to me.’
Fran sighed. ‘I still think she’s a bit of an oddity.’
Libby laughed. ‘And you’re not, I suppose?’
Fran looked affronted. ‘Only in one respect,’ she said. ‘Otherwise I’m quite normal.’
‘OK.’ Libby stood up. ‘Come on. It looks as though we ought to be getting on.’
‘Embarking,’ said Fran, standing up. ‘I’ll go and pay Mavis.’
George welcomed them aboard with an indifferent nod, and Jane smiled nervously.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘He’s not usually grumpy.’
‘You haven’t made him take us for nothing, have you?’ said Libby.
Jane’s variable colour went up a notch. ‘Um,’ she said.
‘Either that or you’re paying for the trip.’ Libby frowned at her.
‘Stop it, Lib.’ Fran tapped Libby on the arm. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Why didn’t it matter?’ Libby asked when they were settled on bench seats on the starboard side.
‘You were embarrassing her. I think she arranged for us to come to say a sort of combined thank you and apology. And you were practically throwing it back in her face. Tact isn’t always your strong point.’
Libby was horrified. ‘Oh, bugger,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean it.’
‘I know you didn’t, but she might not.’
Libby looked down at her lap. ‘Should I apologise?’
‘No, leave it. Just be nice to her.’
Libby looked up again. ‘I have been! That’s why she’s making a thank you gesture.’
Fran sighed. ‘Oh, Lib,’ she said.
The Dolphin swung out into the bay and began a wide sweep towards the island. Libby leaned over the side to catch the spray on her face. Fran sat and stared across the water towards the island, and Jane came towards them with a tray loaded with food.
‘Wow!’ Libby took a chunk of bread and some olives. ‘This is great.’
Fran was still looking at the island. Her heart thumped inside her and she felt a familiar wave of blackness descend. From a distance she heard Libby asking if she was all right and then, nothing.
Chapter Twelve
‘WHAT WAS SO ANNOYING,’ said Fran, sipping at a glass of water, ‘was that it didn’t mean anything. We already knew someone had been left dead on the island – it was hardly news.’
‘It was a bit frightening,’ said Jane, who still looked pale. ‘I’ve never seen anyone keel over like that.’
‘It could mean something,’ said Libb
y, looking thoughtful. ‘And at least it’s settled one thing.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Fran.
‘You’re still functioning.’
‘Oh.’ Fran looked uncomfortably towards Jane.
Libby gave her a disarming smile. ‘Fran wasn’t going to have anything to do with any more so-called psychic investigations, you see,’ she said. ‘Pity she can’t switch off.’
‘Exactly,’ said Fran with relief. ‘But perhaps it wasn’t that. Perhaps it was just a sort of strange sea-sickness.’
‘Do you feel sick?’ asked Jane, moving backwards.
‘Not in the least,’ said Fran cheerfully.
‘Well, if you’re OK now, I’d better go and hand round some more bread.’
‘Yes, I’m fine, Jane. Thank you for the water,’ said Fran, looking round briefly at the curious faces of the other passengers and giving them a small smile.
‘You nearly dropped me in it,’ she said, turning back to Libby. ‘She’s not to know I’m doing anything.’
‘All right, all right, I covered it up, didn’t I?’ Libby wiped her olivey hands on a tissue.
‘I suppose so,’ said Fran. ‘And you said it could still mean something. What?’
‘As far as I remember, from what you’ve told me, you only get those feelings at the actual site something’s happened.’
‘Mostly, but not always.’
‘Yes, but you also felt it in Aunt Eleanor’s room, didn’t you? And at The Alexandria.’
‘Yes.’ Fran looked doubtful. ‘So what you’re saying is that the murder could have taken place on the island? But that’s impossible.’
‘Three impossible things before breakfast,’ grinned Libby. ‘Anyway, bet you that’s what it means.’
‘Hmm.’ Fran frowned down at her glass.
‘So now you’ve got to decide whether you tell Ian or not.’
‘Or Kent and Coast.’
‘No, they’re only supposed to be giving you cover for investigations. Not to be told the results.’
‘That’s true,’ said Fran, looking much struck by this. ‘But do I tell Ian or not?’
‘Is he going to take any notice? They thought the body had been dumped there, didn’t they?’
‘Yes, and that was forensic evidence, so I don’t see how it could be wrong.’
Libby thought for a moment. ‘No, I don’t either,’ she said finally. ‘But I still think you ought to tell Ian. Then you can decide whether you want to stop altogether after that.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Fran looked over at the island, which now reared up looking quite forbidding as they passed across the back where the body had been found. ‘Just there, I think,’ she said, pointing.
‘Yes,’ said Jane from behind. ‘That’s exactly where it was.’
‘Right.’ Fran took a shaky breath. ‘Not that I really wanted to know.’
‘Can you really not switch off?’ asked Jane curiously.
Fran looked across at Libby and made a face.
‘I think things just pop into her head whether she wants them to or not,’ said Libby, coming to the rescue. ‘Annoying, I should think.’
‘Mmm.’ Jane studied the back of Fran’s head.
‘It’s a lovely trip.’ Libby smiled brightly. ‘I love being out on boats.’
‘This one’s not very interesting really, just an opportunity to see the back of the island.’ Jane sat down on Libby’s bench. ‘The other one which goes out of the bay is better.’
‘Where exactly does it go?’ asked Libby.
‘Round the point and along a little way to where there’s a cove. You can’t get to it from the landward side, so it’s always deserted. They stop there and people picnic on the sand.’
‘A real smugglers’ cove?’ said Libby.
Jane looked doubtful. ‘I don’t know how any smuggled stuff would get off the beach again, though,’ she said.
‘Oh, there’s bound to be a secret passage through the cliffs!” Libby’s eyes shone. ‘Shall we go on one of those boat trips, Fran?’
Fran at last turned back to them and laughed. ‘Is this Rupert Bear or the Famous Five, Lib?’
‘Bit of both. I used to love those illustrations of cliffs and boulders in the Rupert stories, and I always believed you could actually have the sort of adventures the Famous Five had if only you lived in the right place.’
‘Did you go exploring when you were here on holiday?’ asked Fran.
‘I tried,’ Libby laughed. ‘Round the other headland, but all that was there was another beach with a lot of people on it. You couldn’t get any further, so I used to fantasise that there were all sorts of caves and tunnels just out of sight that ran up to the top of the cliffs.’
‘But the top of the cliffs are built over,’ said Jane.
‘Not then, they weren’t,’ said Libby. ‘There were fields all the way along the coast.’
‘We used to walk along The Tops,’ said Fran. ‘That’s what they were called, weren’t they?’
‘That’s the name of an estate up there now,’ said Jane. ‘If you go right to the end of my road you come to the back of it.’
‘Doesn’t the town look different from out here?’ said Libby, leaning over the rail. ‘Much more picturesque. I can see your cottage.’
‘I should think so, seeing as it’s on the harbour wall.’ Fran leaned over too. ‘And there’s your house, Jane. It’s closer than I thought to The Alexandria.’
‘And that’s where The Tops were.’ Libby pointed. ‘Close to The Alexandria, too.’
‘Who’s working on The Alexandria, Lib?’ Fran turned suddenly to her friend.
‘Eh?’
‘The builders. Who are they?’
‘How should I know?’
‘I thought Ben was involved?’
Libby frowned. ‘I believe he was consulted.’
Jane looked from one to another. ‘Is that the Ben I met the other night? He’s involved with The Alexandria? What’s happening to it?’
‘I told you last week, I have no idea,’ said Libby. ‘If Ben was consulted, it was in his capacity as an architect. I wouldn’t know about any of that.’
Fran, looking chastened, had sat down again.
‘So, Jane, when can we go out on the other trip?’ said Libby.
‘Most days, really. It’s just that the body seemed to make everybody want to go round the island,’ said Jane.
‘Ghouls,’ said Fran.
‘Well, yes, but good for business. It’s a shorter trip, so they can do more. Normally George would go round the island a couple of times, while Bert would go to the cove once, then the next day they’d change over.’
‘So somebody goes every day?’
‘Unless the weather’s bad. Sometimes if there aren’t many people about they’ll have a day off, or one of them will.’
‘Look we’re nearly there, now,’ said Libby. ‘Any more of those olives left, Jane?’
‘So what was all that about The Alexandria?’ said Libby, as they walked back along Harbour Street after thanking Jane and George. ‘You know it’s supposed to be under wraps.’
‘Sorry,’ said Fran. ‘I just had an idea.’
‘One of those special ideas? Or just an idea?’
‘Just an idea.’ Fran looked up at The Alexandria. ‘I just wondered if any of the Polish community were working there.’
‘Oh.’ Libby looked up too. ‘Actually, that is a good idea. I suppose Ian’s made enquiries among all the immigrant workers in the hotels? Wouldn’t he have done the same with any builders? They’re supposed to be very good, aren’t they?’
‘As builders? I think so.’
‘Well, wouldn’t he have asked them?’
‘I suppose so.’ Fran took out her key. ‘Are you coming in?’
‘No, I’ll get back home,’ said Libby. ‘But I really want to go to that cove. When do you want to go?’
‘I’m not sure I do,’ said Fran, unlocking her door. ‘Won’t Ben go
with you?’
‘Spoilsport. Oh, I’ll get someone. And will you ask Ian about the builders? And your sea moment?’
‘Yes, yes and yes,’ said Fran with a sigh. ‘Just give us a chance.’
Libby drove home to Steeple Martin in a thoughtful frame of mind. She had thoroughly enjoyed the boat trip and wished it could have been longer, but what was worrying her more was Fran’s state of mind. From warning Libby that she had nearly put her foot in it at the beginning of the trip to doing it herself at the end, she had been most unlike herself. Her “moment” had been the most dramatic Libby had witnessed, and was worrying in itself, but it was Fran’s apparent searching for other ideas that had her friend puzzled.
Libby fully believed in Fran’s intermittent psychic predictions as they had been proved right every time, but she was convinced that being put under pressure by the police in the shape of Ian Connell was forcing Fran to come up with ideas for which there was no evidence, psychic or otherwise.
‘So what exactly is going on at The Alexandria?’ she asked Ben a little later. ‘It all seems to be so hush-hush.’
Ben shrugged. ‘It’s because it’s still legally owned by Bella,’ he said. ‘although that lawyer Robert Grimshaw’s formed a trust to administer it, according to Bella’s wishes. He thinks it will be adverse publicity if any of the details come out. And he’s got a soft spot for Bella.’
‘Right. And the builders? Are they Polish?’
‘Some of them, why?’ Ben eyed her for a moment. ‘Oh, I see. The body on the island again. Well, nobody’s been reported missing, so I doubt it’s one of them. Anyway, there are loads of immigrant workers in Nethergate this year. Could be any one of them.’
‘Fran’s got farms in her head.’
‘Well, yes, fruit pickers. Although the numbers are down this year because of the new government legislation.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Libby sighed. ‘More restrictive laws.’
Ben grinned at her. ‘Absolutely. When are you going to cut and run, Lib?’
Libby sighed again. ‘If it wasn’t for you and the children, I’d go now.’
‘Where to, though? Everywhere in Europe is subject to the same laws.’
‘And not the same interpretation,’ said Libby. ‘You know that full well. And I’m not going to get into an argument with you, so that’s that.’
Murder by the Sea - Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery Series Page 9
