A Body in the Village Hall by Dee MacDonald (non fiction books to read TXT) 📕

‘So how long will you keep Maureen here?’

‘No longer than we have to,’ he replied, ‘but we’ll be keeping a close surveillance on the house. In the meantime I’d ask that you keep your distance from the Greys.’

Kate was still shocked that Maureen’s husband had been seen going into the house when Maureen had been so dismissive of him. Could they have killed Kevin together? And Fenella too? As a couple surely they had every reason to hate both Fenella and Kevin – but enough to kill them both?

‘To change the subject,’ Woody said, smiling, ‘how do you fancy a meal out tomorrow night? And well away from here? And’ – he looked serious all of a sudden – ‘no talking shop of course. Officially I shouldn’t be socialising with any witnesses.’

All thoughts of Maureen were suddenly washed away. ‘That’s a lovely idea!’

‘So, how about I pick you up around seven?’

‘That’s fine. I’ll be ready.’

Ten

As she drove home Kate’s mind was in turmoil, not least because of her forthcoming date with Woody and what Angie might have to say about it. But, more than anything, she wondered if she’d misjudged Maureen. Could she possibly be the killer? Then, almost immediately, she thought, No, I’m still sure she’s innocent.

When she got home she saw Angie painting away in her ‘studio’, so she sat down beside the log burner with a mug of coffee.

And she renewed her promise to herself that she’d do her best to try to solve this thing because she needed to prove Maureen’s innocence. She felt responsible for the suspicion falling on Maureen because of what she’d told Woody. Was she capable of solving a crime like this? But, she thought, as a nurse she always had to follow clues from patients’ symptoms to diagnose and solve problems. She was good at extracting information from people because she was naturally interested and curious, she had an analytical brain and she could more easily integrate and ask questions than a detective might be able to. And surely all these years glued to Agatha Christie, Morse, Midsomer Murders and the rest stood her in good stead! She felt sure she must have picked up some ideas.

She’d make a list of all the possible suspects and, by hook or by crook, she’d get to know them all. And, with a bit of luck, she might get a few pointers from Woody if she could only extort some information from him.

There was still no sign of Angie, who was plainly engrossed in her latest masterpiece. Kate only needed a sheet of paper on which to make her list. She grabbed a notebook from the desk drawer in the hallway and then sat down by the log burner again, pen poised.

She had to list Maureen, if only because her husband seemed to be such an elusive character, and she couldn’t remember his name. Did she call him Mr Grey, M’s husband, or what? She wrote, the Greys; it was indeed a grey area. Each of them had every reason to hate both Fenella and Kevin if there was some doubt as to who was driving on that fateful day. And neither Maureen nor the husband had been at the WI meeting. Furthermore, their house was a mere ten-minute walk away from the village hall.

Next was the pair from The Atlantic Hotel – Ed and Sandra Miller – neither of whom she’d yet met. That would have to be rectified somehow or other. They might never come to the surgery but at least she could access their records so she might find some excuse to contact them. Kate felt it was unlikely Mr Miller was a suspect but – from what she’d heard – Sandra Miller was a hot-tempered, passionate sort of woman who certainly had a motive for killing Fenella, if not Kevin. And she had been outside at the time of Fenella’s murder.

The retired doctor, Dickie Payne, with the disabled wife was another matter. She could almost certainly exclude the wife, assuming that she was as frail as everyone said she was. She might have reason to visit this lady, but what about her husband? And, being a doctor, he was unlikely to visit the surgery for any minor ailment he could diagnose himself. Kate left a space on the sheet of paper for any ideas she might have there.

Seymour, of course, could not be excluded. Yes, it was common knowledge that his wife was having it off with every Tom, Dick and Harry, but everyone agreed that he’d been aware of that for years. Why – after leading such separate lives for so long – would he become sufficiently incensed to kill her? Seymour was a man of considerable status. She’d heard from several sources that he had an important job with the government; one or two even suggested that he was connected with MI5. What would suddenly make him risk all that? She couldn’t rule him out, but mainly because she couldn’t rule anybody out.

Who else? Kate chewed her pen for a moment. Then she remembered Kevin’s so-called girlfriend, Jess Davey. Had she been so very jealous of Fenella? And, if she had, why would she have waited ten years for Kevin to reappear before she murdered her one-time rival? And did she kill Kevin as well? Like the Greys, it could have been a joint effort as far as Fenella was concerned, but Kevin?

And Kevin could, Kate supposed, have murdered Fenella, although he had an alibi, but she’d have to look into that. It came back to the question: was there one killer, or two?

Kate hadn’t heard Angie coming in as she was so engrossed in her list.

‘What on earth are you scribbling there?’ Angie asked, kicking off her shoes.

‘Just toying with a list of possible suspects for these murders,’ Kate replied.

‘Why would you do that?’

‘Because it intrigues me.’ Kate