Murder in Abbot's Folly (15 page)

‘Rubbish,' she retorted. ‘Even supposing she had a yen for Tanner or vice versa, sex as a motive for one murder and greed for another isn't a likely combination. One stems from passion, the other demands calculation.'

‘Don't generalize,' Peter snarled.

Georgia was tempted to shout back, ‘Why not? You do,' but restrained herself just in time. Childishness would get them nowhere, which, she reflected, seemed to be where they were heading, anyway.

Every parking space in Chilham Square, including the disabled ones, had already been taken when Luke drove up into the village for Laura's funeral the following week. Fortunately, Georgia and Luke had brought Peter in their car, which meant he could disembark here and make his own way along the path to St Mary's church, which lay back from the square itself. Luke then parked at the foot of the hill, and they walked back up to the square past Chilham's glorious medieval houses.

At least Jane Austen had known Chilham well, and it was still a lovely village. It was compact, perched at the top of a hill, with its shops, ancient houses, church, castle and pub huddled together around the small central square. Cottages sprawled down the hillside in every direction. It was so unchanged that it was easy to imagine Jane Austen arriving here in the Godmersham carriage perhaps to shop or to visit Chilham Castle.

By the time they had returned, Peter had already taken up a position at the rear of the church where he said he could best keep a discreet eye on the congregation. ‘You never know who might be here,' he told them.

The church was nearly full. To Georgia, it seemed that the entire population of Dunham had turned out together with everyone who had attended the Gala. The press were heavily but discreetly represented, and she had seen TV cameras outside, which made her realize that there might be some sense as to why the burial and gathering afterwards were to be private. Even so, she felt sorry for Dora for being excluded, and it did indeed seem a pity that the service was taking place here and not St Lawrence's, which had such strong Austen connections.

Luke still maintained that families were entitled to plan funerals as they wished, but Peter agreed with Georgia. If Stourdens was to trade on its links to Jane Austen it would seem right for the funeral to take place in St Lawrence's, although she wondered if that were the very reason that Jennifer and Roy wanted it further afield. But who
was
family in this case? Would Esther Wilson, formerly Tanner, count?

She saw Peter's point about his position at the rear. When the funeral procession entered the church, it was hard for her to see through the sea of faces as she was squeezed in with Luke into the far end of a pew and up against the church wall. All that was visible were the large black hats of the women in the funeral party and a few faces she recognized here and there. She spotted Barbara Hastings next to Craig and thought she glimpsed Amelia Luckhurst, now Collier, but could not be sure. She also spotted another familiar face, Alfred Wheeler, and Georgia wondered what his connection with the Fettises was.

The service was a long one, during which Jennifer made a moving tribute to her mother, ending with the wording on Jane Austen's tomb, which she read with a trembling voice, saying that they could easily refer to Laura: ‘The benevolence of her heart, the sweetness of her temperament, and the extraordinary endowments of her mind obtained the regard of all who knew her, and the warmest love of her intimate connections.' Georgia wished she had known Laura Fettis, and the tribute added to her determination to do all she could to help Jennifer.

By the time she and Luke had waited their turn to leave the church and rejoin Peter, she saw that the funeral party was about to depart. Most of the cars ready to follow the coffin looked full, and only Tim and Roy remained to greet the rest of the congregation. As she and Luke waited their turn, she noticed with surprise that Philip Faring and Jake Halliday were getting into one of the cars. Not solely family then, she thought wryly.

Other people had clearly noticed that too. She could see Barbara Hastings staring at the cars with a grim face, and more poignantly Dora and Gerald. Dora's face was puffed and red from crying, and it must be doubly hard for her to see that the family-only rule had been relaxed – but not for them. Funerals roused strong emotions, and not just in the family concerned.

Gerald took Dora's arm, and Georgia heard him say, ‘Let's go to the White Horse, darling. We need a stiff drink.'

Many of the congregation seemed to have the same idea, for the pub, which was on the square and next door to the church, had a steady stream of customers making their way along the path towards it.

‘Shall we go?' Luke suggested.

‘Why don't we try the Bat and Trap?' Peter said, apparently casually.

Remembering that bacon sandwich, Georgia could not believe he was serious. She had assumed he would follow Dora and Gerald to the White Horse because they had agreed it hadn't only been the tunnel preying on Dora's mind. There was something else, but perhaps Peter thought this was unlikely to emerge in pub surroundings. When they reached the Bat and Trap, there were familiar faces here too, including Tom Miller's, whom she didn't at first recognize clad in his Sunday best.

She half expected that the buzz of conversation would abruptly halt as they entered, but she was wrong. Not only Peter, but she and Luke were positively welcomed. Perhaps Peter's liberal offer of drinks had played a part in that. While Peter joined Tom Miller, she and Luke were surprisingly beckoned over to a table with Barbara and Craig, who must be off-duty today.

Georgia trotted out the relevant conversational gambit. ‘I'd expected the funeral to be in St Lawrence's,' she observed to Barbara.

‘So did we all,' was the grim reply.

‘I reckon the family didn't want us yobs there,' Craig growled. ‘That sort likes to keep themselves to themselves.'

‘Don't you go blabbing, Craig,' Barbara said quietly. ‘You know where our bread's buttered.'

‘Don't stop us thinking though, do it?' Craig said.

‘Think all you like, but say nothing,' Barbara told him firmly. ‘We need this catering deal. Just a shame we aren't working for Mrs Laura.'

‘There's Jennifer,' Georgia said. ‘Won't she be involved?'

‘Yeah, but that Tim will steamroller over her. Not got her mother's guts.'

‘But her father wouldn't allow that?'

Once on the subject of Tim, Barbara seemed to have forgotten her own edict. ‘Wouldn't he just. Tim's got him where he wants him. Butters him up so he slips through whatever Tim wants.'

‘It's the wedding soon too, isn't it?' Georgia asked as casually as she could manage.

‘September the seventeenth. Surprised he hasn't rushed it forward,' Barbara replied. ‘Can't wait to get his snout in the trough. There's a way to go yet though. Seven weeks is seven weeks.'

‘I take it you don't like him,' Georgia said.

‘Liking don't come into it with that sort. He's pleasant enough, if you do what he wants. So as long as he doesn't interfere with my job, I'll go along with it,' Barbara generously declared. ‘There's Tom's land to think of too. Wouldn't be surprised if they don't try to wriggle out of that.'

‘Could that happen legally?'

‘Tom says it was agreed, nothing actually signed.'

That sounded bad. ‘And you, Craig?' Georgia asked. ‘Will you be joining the new company?'

‘Give it my best. Build up the drinks side and run the bar at Stourdens. Spruce beer should be a winner.'

The bar? Georgia wondered where that fitted in, but decided not to stop the conversational flow by querying it.

Barbara's face lost its usual impassivity and her eyes brightened. ‘As soon as the word comes we'll get going. The company's all legal now. It'll be good to have my own business at last. All down to Jane Austen, eh? Poor old Max. If only he could have foreseen this. I could have done it for the Edgar Arms, easy.'

A fleeting thought crossed Georgia's mind. Could Craig possibly be Tanner's son? He'd be about the right age. ‘We haven't been able to trace Max Tanner yet. I suppose you haven't had any more ideas as to where he might be?'

Barbara opened her mouth to speak, but turned excitedly to Craig. ‘
That's
who it was. I said I knew that woman walking up the aisle. Her with the big hat. Didn't I, Craig? It was Esther Tanner. I'd swear to it.'

‘The news will have spread,' Peter remarked as they drove him home. ‘The time has come for us to have a word with the power behind Stourdens, Tim. Perhaps he might enlighten us as to where his father is now.'

‘Visitors,' Luke remarked early that evening as she heard a car draw up outside. He went over to peer through the window. ‘Good grief, it's Dora Clackington.'

‘And Gerald, I presume,' Georgia said, leaping to her feet.

‘No. On her own. Why's she driven over here?' Luke took a second look. ‘She seems pretty agitated, Georgia. This is going to be girls' own talk so I'll leave you to it, and vanish.'

‘Thanks a bunch,' Georgia said crossly, although conceding that Luke was right. Dora was more likely to need her than Luke, although she could have done without her company this evening.

Georgia waited until Luke had beaten a discreet retreat through the back door, from which he could reach the safety of his office, and then she went to the front door. Luke's ‘pretty agitated' was an understatement. Dora was white and trembling, her face ashen against the pale brown of her dress and jacket.

‘What's wrong?' Georgia asked in alarm.

‘I need to tell you something, Georgia. Please. I know I can speak freely to you.'

Only so far, Georgia thought. She might be obliged to tell Mike, and of course Peter, but there was no point in scaring Dora still further by telling her so.

‘I can't talk to Gerald,' Dora said, following Georgia into the Medlars living room. She looked around at its comfortable chairs and old sofa, and remarked pathetically, ‘I like this room. So comforting. You are so lucky.'

‘I know,' Georgia murmured awkwardly. ‘Can I get you some coffee?'

This was waved aside. ‘No thank you. I mustn't be long because Gerald doesn't know I've come. I have something to confess, and I know you'll understand. It's how we women work. But you see I should have told the police . . .'

‘About the tunnel?' Georgia asked gently. ‘We've already passed that on to them.'

Words came tumbling out. ‘No, it was telling you about that and realizing how I should have spoken before that meant I simply didn't have the courage to tell you or the police. But today at the funeral Laura spoke to me and I knew I must. So I'm here.'

‘So what is it?' Mad scenarios rushed through Georgia's mind and were dismissed.

‘That day . . . that awful day. The Gala. What I told the police wasn't quite true, though I meant it to be. But somehow it didn't come out as I intended. When I saw Laura that afternoon she was so upset. She hoped I wouldn't mind too much.' Dora stopped and looked at Georgia in appeal.

‘About what?' Georgia prompted her.

‘She'd definitely decided that she wasn't going to let Stourdens be commercialized. She said she'd agreed with the plans because Roy and Tim were so enthusiastic and Jennifer too was in favour, and she too could see the advantages, but she no longer did so. There – I've told you.' Dora looked piteously at her. ‘She said that at four o'clock Roy was going to make her apologies for her non-appearance, but her decision was final.'

The enormity of this disclosure made Georgia forget about discretion. Roy had implied that Laura would make the announcement when she felt she was well enough. In other words, no change to the expected news of great things afoot for Stourdens. ‘But why on earth didn't you tell the police at the time?'

‘Well,' Dora faltered, ‘I talked to Tim after Roy had spoken, and he said Laura was always changing her mind and had swung to and fro for ages on the question of how to save Stourdens. And so I wasn't to worry about it. And then we heard that she'd been killed and I forgot all about it.'

‘Then why are you so worried now?'

‘Because it isn't true,' Dora said miserably. ‘She
had
been unsure about it, that's true enough, but once she had made the decision that would be the end of it. Laura would
never
go back on something as definite as that. Not Laura.'

NINE

G
eorgia hadn't envied Dora her meeting with DI Newton the next morning. She had hoped Mike might have intervened, but there was no sign of him at Charing HQ. Dora had made Georgia promise to come with her, which showed a pathetic faith in the Marshes' powers, and Georgia was waiting with Gerald for her to be released from Newton's tender mercies. At last she emerged, and Georgia's heart sank when she saw her white face. She had clearly not been given an easy ride. Dora rushed straight into Gerald's arms.

‘I said it all, just as you said I should,' she assured Georgia.

Not that that would have done her much good with Newton on her case, Georgia thought, but she soothingly replied, ‘You did the right thing.' She saw Diane Newton leaving the interview room and her expression confirmed her fears, although even Newton could surely not seriously be thinking of Dora as a suspect. She wouldn't have the courage to take a gun in her hands, let alone fire one. Gerald might be a different matter, however, although Georgia could think of no possible motive for his wanting to murder Laura. Because she'd said she was going to abandon the plans for Stourdens? That seemed unlikely, even if Dora and Gerald hankered after Edgar House being included in them. Certainly, the Clackingtons seemed all for promoting Jane Austen, but murdering opponents who got in their way would hardly be their style. Not in a million years.