Lesley Cookman - Murder to Music

Harry arrived in one of his trademark pink shirts and draped himself over his partner at the bar.

‘Customers all gone?’ asked Peter.

‘Only a few tonight,’ said Harry. ‘I let Donna go early. Ad’s got young Sophie stowed away in the flat, so he didn’t mind staying on.’ He turned to the table and swung his leg over a chair. ‘Hello, my little investigator. How’re things with you?’

Libby told him. When she got to Rosie’s defection he snorted.

‘Told you, didn’t I? Right horny old biddy.’

‘I don’t know how you know so much,’ said Libby, on her dignity. ‘You’re gay.’

‘Oh, be still my beating heart! She noticed,’ said Harry, clapping a hand to his head. ‘That’s why, you old trout. They often come on to us. All they see is a nice young man paying them some attention – we’re so kind to our elders, you see – and not being quite as au fait with modern sexual mores as you, petal, they go all unnecessary.’

‘Oh. So that’s what Rosie’s done, is it? Gone all unnecessary?’

‘Course not. She’s not that old, and she’s a novelist, isn’t she? She knows what’s what. I bet she’ll turn up all innocence, wide-eyed because she can’t think what the fuss was about.’

‘There hasn’t been any fuss,’ said Libby. ‘Fran and I came to the same conclusion. I doubt if she’ll tell us what happened, or why, and we can hardly ask.’

‘Shame,’ said Harry. ‘I do love a bit of gossip.’

‘If I hear anything, I’ll tell you,’ said Libby. ‘Although I doubt if I’ll hear from her for a while.’

But in the morning, the phone rang before nine o’clock.

‘Libby?’

‘Ian! What’s up?’

‘Where’s your Rosie? She’s not answering either of her phones, her car’s missing and she’s not at home.’

LIBBY’S HEART SANK.

‘I haven’t seen her since yesterday lunchtime. She stayed behind at Ashton Court with Colonel Weston.’

Ian swore. ‘What was she doing there?’

Libby told him. ‘We felt we had to go over there with her, or she was going on her own. She didn’t listen when we warned her to keep her mouth shut, so Mr Vindari and Weston both know she owns the barn. I don’t know what she thought she was about, asking to see over the Court, but it looked to Fran and me as if she was on a seduction mission.’

‘That woman hasn’t got an ounce of sense,’ said Ian. ‘When you think about her behaviour right from the beginning, when she approached you and Fran. I don’t know what she’s playing at.’

‘Hadn’t you better go and talk to Colonel Weston?’ asked Libby. ‘After all, he can’t deny she was there, when Fran and I were, too.’

‘Of course he can’t, and why should he?’

‘I don’t know. Will you let us know if you find her?’

‘Yes, yes. Do I need to call Fran? She was with you all the time?’

‘Yes, and got the same voice mail messages as me when we got home.’

‘What messages?’

‘I meant, when we tried to call Rosie all we got was voice mail.’

‘So she’s actually been out of contact since yesterday afternoon?’

‘Yes. Have you tried Andrew?’

‘No – I thought they’d had a row.’

‘I’ll call him, if you like,’ said Libby. ‘Oh – and why did you want her?’

‘We’ve broken through into the cellar. You might tell Ben. And you can come and look later, but not until I tell you.’ He rang off.

Libby sat looking at the phone. Ben came down from the bathroom ready to set off for the Manor.

‘Who was that?’

She told him. ‘And now I’m really worried.’

‘Call Fran and Andrew. And don’t go galloping off on your own, either. Ian’s on to it. He’ll do his best.’

But before Libby could call anyone, the phone rang again.

‘Libby, it’s Andrew. I don’t suppose you know where Rosie is, do you? Only I’ve been trying to ring her since yesterday afternoon, and I just went over there and her car was gone.’

With the feeling that the day was going to get much worse very soon, Libby told him, leaving out any reference to the possible seduction of Colonel Weston.

‘So Inspector Connell is trying to find her, too, so we can leave it to him,’ she concluded.

‘I think this is all my fault.’ Andrew sounded miserable.

‘How can it be your fault? For goodness’ sake, Andrew, haven’t you seen through Rosie yet? She’s a thoroughly manipulative woman with an agenda that no one knows.’

Andrew sighed. ‘I know she appears like that, but, believe me, she was very shocked when we found out about Paul Findon, and even more so about the legacy.’

‘How do you know about that?’ asked Libby sharply. ‘You weren’t there, and she had apparently cut all ties with you at that point.’

‘It was temporary. She called me later that night.’

Libby gasped. ‘You see? She’s been leading everyone to believe you were completely out of the picture. She told Fran and me that she’d made a fool of herself with you.’

‘Did she.’ Andrew’s voice was now grim. ‘I wonder why?’

‘I assumed,’ said Libby boldly, ‘that she’d gone to bed with you and regretted it.’

‘Oh, she went to bed with me, all right. But we’d both got rather drunk, all in the name of ameliorating Rosie’s shock, and she was quite mortified at both the drunkenness and the – well – intimacy.’ He sighed again. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this.’

‘So she obviously got over that?’ said Libby, ignoring this last statement.

‘She did. Even suggested that we should try again because…’

‘She couldn’t actually remember it?’ suggested Libby.

‘Yes. And we did. Have.’

‘Right.’ Libby thought for a moment. ‘And have you at any time got the impression that she would try and find out any more about what was going on at either the barn or the house itself? I mean, on her own.’

‘Yes. I thought she was going to ask you and Fran to help her.’

‘She did, I told you. But she was perfectly prepared to go to Cherry Ashton on her own, and both Fran and I thought she was quite likely to barge in where angels and all that, and could conceivably get into trouble.’ She sighed. ‘And now it appears that she has. What about Tybalt?’

‘Eh?’ Andrew sounded startled by the sudden change of topic.

‘Tybalt. The cat.’

‘Oh, Talbot. Of course, he won’t have been fed. What should we do?’

‘We?’ said Libby.

‘Well, I don’t know what one does about cats. Should we phone the RSPCA?’

‘I suppose we could,’ said Libby doubtfully. ‘And I don’t quite know what one does in this sort of situation. Is there a cat flap?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Then he can get in and out. That’s a relief. And if he’s really starving he’ll start catching food. Or you could go and put a bowl of food down near the cat flap.’

‘Me?’

‘You’re the one in a relationship with her,’ said Libby, suddenly irritated with the whole situation.

‘I thought you were her friend.’

‘I only met her a day or so before you did. And I’m not sure I want to be a friend now. I feel a bit used and abused. Although that isn’t poor Talbot’s fault.’

‘I suppose I could go and put some food down for him,’ said Andrew doubtfully. ‘What sort?’

‘Dried cat crunchies, then it won’t go off if the weather suddenly turns warm again,’ said Libby, glancing out at the drizzle.

‘All right. And will you let me know if you hear anything?’

‘I will. And the same goes if you hear.’

‘Yes, yes, of course.’

After Andrew had rung off, Libby sat and thought. It was apparent that something had happened, but quite what was unfathomable. Had Hugh Weston bumped Rosie off because he had something to do with the bodies in the barn? And if so, why? Murdering the owner of the property wouldn’t stop the police investigation. Anyway, how could Weston have anything to do with honour killings, if that’s what they were? Much easier to believe that smooth Mr Vindari had something to do with it. Which was far too convenient. She sighed and punched Fran’s number into the phone.