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

The telephone rang just as Kate had got up to change out of her uniform. She picked up the phone. ‘Hello?’

She recognised the mellow American voice of the detective inspector she’d met the night before.

‘May I speak to Mrs Kate Palmer, please?’

‘Speaking,’ said Kate, aware that her heart was beating a little faster and hoping that her voice hadn’t squeaked.

‘I’m talking to all the ladies who were at the WI last night. Would it be possible for you and your sister to come up to the station in order to answer a few questions?’

‘Yes, of course! When?’

‘Could you both be here at Launceston Police Station about seven this evening?’

Kate had had a day discussing it all, listening to the patients’ endless chatter and their lists of suspects, and all she wanted to do now was relax with her feet up and have a pub meal and a glass or three of wine. But it would be interesting to get a professional perspective and, not least, she was looking forward to seeing the attractive American detective again.

‘You are kidding!’ Angie said to Kate. ‘What the hell do they want with us? We were in the hall listening to that old crone rabbiting on about carrots.’

‘I know, I know,’ Kate replied, ‘but they want us to go and that’s that. We can stop by the pub on the way back.’

They set off up the narrow winding road from Lower Tinworthy to Middle and Higher Tinworthy on the road to Launceston, and Kate noticed the blossom coming on the blackthorn trees and the swathes of primroses coming into flower. It was all the more beautiful in the spring evening light.

Detective Inspector Forrest looked to be about sixty. Kate guessed he’d be around six feet tall, and he looked as tired as she felt.

‘Very fanciable,’ Angie commented as they sat in the waiting area with a horde of other women from the previous evening. She breathed in Kate’s face. ‘Would you know I’d had a gin?’

‘Yes,’ Kate replied, ‘I would.’

Just at that moment Angie’s name was called and she disappeared into the little office where the interviews were taking place. Five minutes later she emerged, eyes sparkling. ‘Yes, I could really, really fancy that man,’ she confirmed.

A few minutes later it was Kate’s turn. The detective inspector shook her hand and signalled for her to be seated. Kate looked around at the stark walls painted in grey. It was obviously not a room intended to put a person at their ease. However, DI Forrest smiled at her and she began to relax a little.

‘Before we begin,’ he said, sounding a little weary, ‘I know you were inside the hall at the time of the incident and I know you’re not a suspect, but I have to ask you a few questions anyway. You were one of the first on the scene and you checked to see if Mrs Barker-Jones was still alive or not. What about Mrs Calder who, I understand, was the first person to enter the kitchen?’

‘Well, I believe she’d gone out to help Fenella with the refreshments but she got as far as the door and screamed. She was quite faint by the time I reached her. I believe she’s a very nervous little lady at the best of times.’

‘Yes, we’ve already had a word with Mrs Calder. Now, can you be absolutely sure that Mrs Barker-Jones was in fact dead when you approached her?’

‘Definitely,’ said Kate.

‘Can you recall hearing any other noises at all? A car pulling up, perhaps? A rustling in the trees? Footsteps outside? Anything?’

Kate shook her head. ‘To be honest I was almost asleep. Growing vegetables isn’t really my sort of thing.’

He grinned at her. ‘OK, so did you notice anyone around or anything unusual as you entered the hall earlier?’

‘Nothing at all.’ No wonder the man looked exhausted; he must have got to bed very late, if at all, and now here he was having to spend the day interviewing, only to hear the same story over and over again.

‘There’s always the chance that somebody might just have heard or noticed something unusual,’ he said. Then he cleared his throat. ‘I believe you’re the new nurse at the medical centre?’

‘Yes, I am,’ Kate replied. ‘We only moved down here a few weeks ago so I’m still finding my way around.’

‘Does it seem a little provincial?’ he asked with a grin. Dear Lord, he was very attractive! Was it the brown eyes, the golden skin or what?

Kate laughed. ‘Sometimes, but charmingly so, and I like it for all that.’

‘I may have to interview you further, Mrs Palmer, in the coming days. I understand you’ve bought Lavender Cottage?’

‘How did you know that?’

‘I’m a detective,’ he replied with a wink.

An hour later Kate and Angie finally got to the pub. The Greedy Gull was a three-minute walk down the lane from Lavender Cottage and, in Kate’s opinion, much too convenient as far as Angie was concerned. The building itself was around three hundred years old, two storey, with a rag-slate roof, ivy-clad walls and leaded light windows. A collection of rustic tables and chairs had optimistically been left out over the winter, and doubtless would be occupied when the tourists arrived in force again in the coming weeks.

The landlord was in chatty mood; Des Pardoe was tall, skinny and almost completely bald on top, his remaining grey hair yanked back into a sparse ponytail. He looked pale and sad but was, Kate had discovered, quite a wit.

‘Good evenin’, ladies! What can I get you? A little gin and tonic for you, Angie?’

‘Definitely,’ said Angie, ‘but not so little, if you please.’

‘I’ll have a glass of white, Pinot Grigio would be perfect,’ Kate said, sitting up on a barstool.

The building was old, but not as ancient as The Tinners Arms up in Middle Tinworthy. Des had whitened the walls, blackened the beams, polished up the brass and had had a large blue and white