Page 11 of A Death in Cornwall

“Who?”

“Vera and Dottie and the usual crowd down at the Lamb and Flag.”

“How could they possibly forget us?”

Chiara fixed him with a stare of mild rebuke. “You were so very rude to them, Gabriel.”

“It wasn’t me,” he said defensively. “It was only a role I was playing at the time.”

“Giovanni Rossi. The temperamental but gifted Italian art restorer.”

“His wife was quite lovely, as I recall.”

“And much beloved by the villagers.” Chiara returned the phone to her handbag. “It’s a shame we didn’t stay in Gunwalloe longer. If we had, we would have known Charlotte Blake.”

Gabriel considered this notion as they approached the exit for Heathrow. “You’re quite right, you know.”

“I always am.”

“Not always,” said Gabriel.

“When have I ever been wrong?”

“Give me a week or two. I’ll think of something.”

“You should be asking yourself why Timothy Peel wants you to come to Cornwall to help with the investigation into Professor Blake’s murder.”

“He knew I was in the country.”

“He follows news from the art world?”

“No,” said Gabriel. “He follows news about me.”

“Surely he must have given you at least some idea of what it was about.”

“He said he didn’t want to discuss it on the phone.”

“What could it be?”

“Something art related, I suppose.”

“Something Professor Blake was working on at the time of her murder?”

“An interesting theory,” said Gabriel.

“Could there be a link?”

“Between Charlotte Blake’s hypothetical research project and her subsequent murder by an axe-wielding maniac?”

“The Chopper uses a hatchet, you dolt.”

“A most inefficient murder weapon, if you ask me. Effective, yes. But quite messy.”

“You’ve never used one?”

“A hatchet? I’m quite certain that I have never once utilized a hatchet for any purpose whatsoever, least of all killing someone. That’s what guns are for.”

“I think I’d rather be shot than hacked to death.”

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