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leave the area so, technically, I’m not off the hook yet. And neither is your precious Maureen, or Seymour Barker-Jones, or Dr Dickie.’

‘It’s just that Kate’s fascinated by crime,’ Angie piped up apologetically. ‘Watches too much of that sort of stuff on TV.’

Sandra narrowed her eyes. ‘And that is why you’re here,’ she said to Kate, ‘because you can get a perfectly good afternoon tea down at Lower Tinworthy, right on your doorstep, at half the price.’ She squared her shoulders and folded her arms across her bust. ‘Sue said you were interested in finding the killer. Well, you can get off my back, madam. And pay at reception as you go out.’ And with that she swept out the room.

Angie broke the short silence. ‘So, that went well, didn’t it?’

‘Don’t be sarcastic!’ Kate snapped. ‘And it all started to go wrong when you said I was fascinated by crime. Why the hell did you have to say that?’

‘Because you are. Anyway, it got her going and from the way she reacted I definitely wouldn’t be removing her from your list just yet.’

‘You wouldn’t?’

‘I wouldn’t,’ Angie confirmed. She withdrew a plastic carrier from the depths of her shoulder bag and pointed at the platefuls of cakes and scones. ‘What I am going to do is take this lot home with us, and then let’s pay and get out of here.’ She placed everything in layers in the bag.

As they left the hotel they saw a busload of elderly people pull up outside, and heard Sandra say sweetly, ‘Welcome back! Have you had a lovely day?’

Eighteen

It was shortly after Kate got home from work on Tuesday that the woman arrived at her door. She’d just sat down with a cup of tea when she heard the doorbell. Immediately Barney went into paroxysms of barking. Glancing out of the side window she decided there was something vaguely familiar about the small dark woman on the doorstep. ‘Shut up, Barney,’ she said to the excited dog, then padded to the door in her stockinged feet.

‘Are you Kate Palmer?’ the woman asked.

Kate reckoned she’d definitely seen this woman somewhere before. Was she press or something?

‘Yes,’ Kate said warily.

‘I’m Jess Davey,’ said the woman and then Kate remembered seeing her in the pub with Kevin. She noticed the circle of Celtic tattoos round her wrist, which appeared to continue up her arm, disappearing under the sleeve of her red fleece. Jess Davey! What on earth…?

‘I’m sorry to bother you, but it were you that found Kevin’s body, weren’t it?’ she asked.

‘Yes, it was,’ Kate replied.

Jess stood silently for a moment. She avoided Kate’s eye and glanced around nervously as if to check that no one was watching her.

‘Do you want to come in?’ Kate asked, aware that this could be her only opportunity to get to know another of the suspects on The List.

‘Yeah, thanks.’

Kate led the way into the kitchen. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I was just wonderin’,’ Jess Davey replied hesitantly, ‘how he was? How he looked… you know?’ Her voice tailed off and Kate could see tears in her big dark eyes.

Kate thought it best to deflect this question with another. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, thanks, that would be good.’

Kate boiled up the kettle again. ‘You were Kevin’s friend, weren’t you?’

‘Yeah,’ Jess said sadly. ‘And he weren’t no killer. Just cos he took the rap for killin’ that kid. He should’ve killed bloody Fenella years ago, but he didn’t.’ She sat down at the kitchen table as if exhausted by her little outburst.

‘I reckon it was Seymour Barker-Jones wot killed her, cos Kevin was meeting him in the pub and you know what men are – in and out every five minutes for a fag or a pee? Seymour could easily have popped out for a minute or two.’

Jess seemed agitated so Kate thought it best to keep things as calm as possible. ‘Milk? Sugar?’ she asked as she fished the teabag out of the mug.

‘No milk, two sugars, please.’ Jess stroked Barney’s head. ‘Nice dog.’

‘Yes, he is a nice dog. Here you are, Jess.’ Kate placed the mug in front of her and sat down opposite, pushing across a box of biscuits.

‘Oh thanks,’ said Jess, taking two chocolate ones. She sipped her tea and munched steadily for a minute, then said, ‘Did he look like he’d suffered? I mean, they say he got bashed on the head and that’s what killed him.’

‘I know no more about that than you do,’ Kate replied. ‘And yes, there was a nasty wound on the side of his head. But he looked quite peaceful.’

‘Thank God for that. So why was he in the water?’

Kate shrugged. ‘I really don’t know.’

‘Seems funny cos Kev didn’t like water much,’ Jess remarked.

‘Well, he didn’t exactly choose to go in for a swim, Jess.’

Jess took another sip. ‘Bleedin’ police have been all through my place.’

‘Maybe they thought they’d find a clue as to who killed him?’ Kate suggested.

‘Well, we know now who killed him, because Billy Grey’s confessed, hasn’t he?’

‘Do you think it was Billy, Jess?’

Jess shrugged. ‘I dunno. Like I say, I think it was that Seymour and that’s why the police was lookin’ for Kev’s phone.’

‘The police were looking for his phone?’ Kate asked.

‘Yes, they was, and they found it.’ Jess sniffed. ‘See, Kev recorded everything Fenella said, so now the cops know that it was Fenella Barker-Jones what killed that kid. And that’s why they thought Kev killed her, cos she didn’t want to give him the money she’d promised.’

Kate didn’t comment because she was none too sure if she was supposed to know about this or not.

‘We planned a new life with that dosh,’ Jess went on after a moment, her face a picture of utter misery. ‘We’d have got out of Tinworthy and bought a nice little place down in Spain. In Marbella, maybe. We went there for a holiday once. Yeah, Marbella.’

‘So your dreams won’t come true now…’

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