Murder in Bloom (3 page)

‘Oh, it was from an old lady in a home, saying that it was an abomination against the Lord, or something,’ said Libby.

‘Don’t be dismissive, Lib,’ said Fran. ‘She was expressing the view that the Bible says it’s illegal and marriage was for the procreation of children.’

‘Oh, I hope not,’ said Guy, making a face at her.

‘I know, bless her, and unfortunately, you can’t argue with someone like that, who’s so entrenched in her own views that she can’t appreciate any other, and certainly wouldn’t want to discuss the truth or authority of the Bible.’ Libby smiled. ‘I can just see her sticking her fingers in her ears and going “La-lala-la!”, can’t you?’

Fran sighed. ‘I know what you mean. It’s such a shame that devotion to religion like that is so blinkered and nothing to do with reasoned argument.’

‘That’s why it’s called “blind faith”,’ said Guy.

‘Anyway,’ said Libby, gathering up her basket, ‘I meant to leave ten minutes ago. I shall be late for Ad, especially as I don’t know exactly where I’m going.’

‘Coast road out and turn left after Canongate Drive instead of straight on to Steeple Martin,’ said Guy. ‘Takes you right along the coast to Creekmarsh.’

‘Oh, you know it, too?’ said Libby, stopping at the door.

‘Of course. Creekmarsh Place was used as a military base or something during the war, like Anderson Place was.’

‘That’s what Lewis wants to do with it,’ said Libby. ‘Turn it into a venue.’

Guy looked at Fran. Fran looked back at Guy. Libby looked at both of them.

‘But not yet,’ she said, ‘it won’t be restored for ages.’

‘Oh,’ said Guy and Fran together.

‘And they’ve got to sort out this body first, anyway.’ Libby opened the door and grinned over her shoulder. ‘Bit gruesome for a wedding, wouldn’t you say?’

Chapter Three

THE ROAD ALONG THE coast twisted and turned, alternately hiding and revealing glimpses of the sea. Banks clothed thickly in cow parsley, campion, bent and windblown hawthorn and elder crowded in on either side, until the road widened and turned sharply to the right. A pub stood on the right-hand side, and a heavily wooded lane led off to the left, with an old signpost pointing to ‘The Church’ and a small wooden finger post announced ‘Creekmarsh Place’. Libby braked suddenly and with a hasty look in her mirrors swung into the lane.

The trees overhung the lane, blocking out the sunlight, before opening out to show the little church on the left. To the right, all Libby could see was thick woodland, part of which, no doubt, Adam had been clearing. Finally the lane began to slope down and she could see the sea. Now there was a lawn to her right, an old wall and what appeared to be gateposts. Adam stood beside them in very grubby jeans and a shirt, looking forlorn.

‘Hello, darling,’ said Libby. ‘Hop in.’

‘Thanks, Ma.’ Adam stopped looking forlorn and came round the other side of the car. ‘You can turn round on the drive there.’

‘Through the gateposts?’

‘Yeah. Lewis is having new iron gates made by some blacksmith who’s won awards. We park on the drive.’

Libby drove carefully between the gateposts and began to manoeuvre the car. A figure appeared in the

mirror and she stood on her brakes.

‘Shit,’ she muttered.

Adam swivelled round.

‘Oh, that’s all right, Ma,’ he said. ‘That’s just Lewis.’ He wound down the window and waved. The figure came round and leant in.

‘Whatcher, Ad,’ said Lewis Osbourne-Walker. ‘This your mum?’

‘Yes. Ma, this is Lewis, Lewis, my mum, Libby Sarjeant.’

‘Howjer do?’ Lewis stuck his hand across Adam. ‘Bit of a detective, Ad says.’

‘Hello,’ said Libby, awkwardly shaking his hand.

‘Just off home, then?’ Lewis withdrew his hand.

‘To Ma’s,’ said Adam. ‘Give Mog’s pregnant missus a bit of a rest.’

‘Your mum looks as though she didn’t know about that,’ said Lewis.

Libby laughed. ‘I didn’t, but he’s welcome.’

‘Can always stay here, y’know, Ad. Plenty of bedrooms done up already.’

‘’S OK, thanks, Lewis,’ said Adam. ‘Don’t see enough of Ma, anyway.’

‘Right.’ Lewis stood away from the car, his spiked blond hair glinting in the sun. ‘Don’t forget to tell her all about our body.’

‘He seems nice,’ said Libby, as she drove back down the lane.

‘He’s a great bloke,’ said Adam. ‘I never thought a celeb would be an OK person, but he is.’

‘What did he mean, tell me all about your body?’

‘Oh, the police were back again today, doing more searching, and some woman came to talk to us

all.’

‘Woman?’

‘Policeman. Well, police person, I suppose. Higher up than your mate.’

‘Chief Inspector?’

‘No – Superintendent. That was it.’

‘Really?’ Libby turned back on to the coast road. ‘So it’s become a big thing, then? Have they released details to the press?’

Adam shrugged. ‘There haven’t been any of the vultures around, so no, I don’t think so. We’ve been told to keep quiet.’

‘So why did Lewis say tell me?’

‘’Cos I told him all about your cases.’

‘They aren’t my cases!’ Libby was exasperated. ‘I was just a bit involved.’ ‘Oh, yeah?’ Adam turned and grinned at her. ‘I couldn’t help it,’ said Libby grumpily. ‘Anyway, when we get home I’ll tell you what Big Bertha said.’

‘Big Bertha?’

‘The super Super.’ Adam grinned again. ‘She’s scary.’

However, Libby had to wait for her explanation, as Adam demanded a shower before he did anything else, so she made tea and phoned Ben to tell him Fran’s news.

‘Hmm.’ He was non-committal.

‘What’s the matter? Aren’t you pleased?’ Libby frowned.

‘Of course. Good luck to them.’

‘Well, you don’t sound pleased,’ said Libby.

‘I said, I
am
.’

‘Oh, well,’ said Libby with a sigh. ‘Just thought I’d tell you, and that Ad’s here for supper. I had to pick him up today.’

‘Had to?’

‘He had no transport.’ Libby frowned again. ‘Ask him if you don’t believe me. What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing.’ There was a pause. ‘I’ll see you later – if you’re still expecting me?’

‘Of course,’ Libby’s voice rose in surprise. ‘Come when you like.’

Ben’s voice softened. ‘About six, then,’ he said.

Libby was still frowning when Adam came downstairs in a clean T-shirt and jeans.

‘What’s up, Ma?’ he took his mug of tea and sat down at the kitchen table.

Libby sat opposite him. ‘I think you’d better tell me about your body now, and then not mention it when Ben comes round.’

‘Aha!’ Adam laughed. ‘Getting shirty about the detective business, is he?’

‘Suspicious, anyway,’ said Libby, with an unwilling smile, ‘so please tell him it was your idea that I picked you up.’

‘’Course I will.’ Adam took a mouthful of tea and reached round for the biscuit tin on the dresser. ‘And now I’ll tell you all about our body.’

‘Go on, then,’ said Libby, and settled back in her chair.

‘Well, apparently, they found about seventy per cent of the skeleton, and the scientist bloke –’

‘Pathologist?’

‘That’ll be the one. He thought the body was only a few years old, not ancient, like we thought at first. So they did some tests, and he’s right. They’re doing more, but it looks like murder.’

‘And not very old?’

‘Well, not brand new, but only perhaps three or four years old. They’ve found some bits of stuff that might help identify him –’

‘It’s definitely a him, then?’

‘Oh, yeah, didn’t I say? Yes, a him. So Big Bertha comes along and interviews us all about how long we’ve known the place, and how long Lewis has been here. Daft, isn’t it? As if we’d dig up someone we buried, or Lewis would ask us to do it.’

‘Yes, but she’s got to ask,’ said Libby. ‘She’s the SIO is she, then?’

‘SIO?’

‘Senior Investigating Officer.’

‘Like that Inspector who fancies Fran?’

‘No, Ian Connell is only an Inspector, and he works under an SIO who directs operations from the office. Chief Inspector Murray is often SIO.’

‘That’s the bloke who did Paula’s murder, isn’t it?’

‘Nicely put,’ said Libby. ‘He was in charge of the investigation, yes. But a superintendent – that means it’s a bit higher profile. Because of Lewis, do you think?’

‘Don’t know,’ said Adam with a shrug. ‘Maybe.’

‘I’d wondered if it was really old, from when it was occupied during the war.’

‘Didn’t know it was.’

‘Guy told me. Oh – and I meant to tell you – Guy and Fran are getting married.’

‘Wicked!’ Adam laughed. ‘That’s one in the eye for old Ben, then, isn’t it?’

Libby went cold. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’ve been refusing him all this time. He’s not going to take kindly to this, is he? You’ve been together longer than Fran and Guy.’

‘Ah.’ Libby understood. So that was why Ben hadn’t sounded like himself. This was going to take careful handling.

It wasn’t until after supper that either the body or Fran and Guy were mentioned. Ben and Adam discussed ground management, to Libby’s amusement, followed by the difficulty of getting a job and, finally, sailing.

‘Who was this Basil, then?’ asked Adam.

‘I went to school with him back in the dark ages,’ said Ben, leaning back in his chair and twirling his wine glass.

‘Where is he now?’

Ben raised his eyebrows. ‘Why? Fancy a sail?’

‘Well, yeah,’ said Adam, with a grin, ‘but I just wondered if he might know anything about Creekmarsh before Lewis bought it.’

‘I expect the police will have done all that,’ said Libby.

‘Just wondered,’ said Adam. ‘Like you do.’

Libby shifted in her chair. ‘Not this time,’ she said, deliberately not looking at Ben.

‘Bas is still around, actually,’ said Ben, ignoring this exchange, ‘but I haven’t seen him for ages. Not since he came back to the area, in fact.’

‘What about his dad? He still alive?’

‘No idea. I would have said no, but both my parents are still alive, so perhaps he is.’

‘Why, anyway, Ad?’ asked Libby. ‘He wouldn’t know anything about this body.’

A small silence descended as all three realised that they were actually discussing the murder despite Ben’s reluctance. He sighed.

‘Sorry, Ben,’ said Adam. ‘But honestly, Ma hasn’t tried to find out anything. I’m interested – perhaps it’s in the genes – but it was Lewis who told me to tell her all about it.’

‘Why?’

‘Because when we found the skeleton I told him about her murders.’

Libby winced.

‘And did you also tell him how much trouble she got into?’

Adam looked at Libby in apology. ‘No,’ he said.

‘That’s why I don’t want to know about this one,’ said Libby firmly, ‘unless it affects Lewis’s ambition to turn Creekmarsh into a venue.’

‘It might put a damper on a wedding,’ said Ben, with a degree of relief at the change of subject.

‘That’s what I told Fran and Guy,’ said Libby, and could have bitten her tongue out.

‘That’d be cool, wouldn’t it?’ Adam rushed in to cover the awkward moment. ‘D’you reckon Lewis would let Harry do the catering?’

‘I’m sure he’d
love
Harry,’ laughed Libby, ‘but I doubt that Fran and Guy want veggie food.’

‘What
do
they want?’ asked Ben.

‘No idea.’ Libby shrugged. ‘I didn’t discuss it with them.’ ‘I bet,’ said Ben, and stood up. ‘Shall we clear

away?’

Adam and Libby exchanged a complicit glance. ‘OK,’ said Libby.

Ben left an hour later, saying he knew how much Libby wanted to have time with Adam.

‘Honestly, Ad,’ she said, coming back into the sitting room and removing Sidney from the sofa. ‘Whatever is the matter with him? He practically lives here, and now he’s behaving like a mere acquaintance.’

‘You know what’s the matter with him. I said earlier. He wants to marry you, or at least put your relationship on a firmer footing so he has the right to protect you and share in your life properly.’

Libby looked at him admiringly. ‘Gosh, Ad, you are grown up,’ she said. ‘But what you don’t realise is that the tax position would change radically if we moved in together. And if we got married. And not to our advantage.’

‘So why do people ever get married, then?’ asked Adam, slinging long legs over the arm of the armchair. ‘I thought the older generation were supposed to be in favour of it and encourage us lot to stop living in sin.’

‘I don’t think it means very much any more,’ said Libby, leaning over to top up his wine glass. ‘It didn’t stop your father or Ben’s wife from going off with someone else, did it? What price marriage vows, then?’