Page 58 of A Village Theatre Murder

‘Oh, yes. There’s a key.’ The girl looked at Julia blankly and went back to chewing her gum.

‘Do you have it? The key?’

‘I think it’s in the drawer.’ She opened the drawer unhurriedly and picked up a key with a red tag, markedSTOREROOM. ‘Here it is.’

‘Let’s get the dog food out then, shall we?’

Julia used the plural, but expected the receptionist to bestir herself and fetch the food. Instead, the girl handed over the key and said, ‘Go through to the back room. The food is in the big cupboard on the right; just open it and see what you can find.’

Julia felt fairly sure this wasn’t the customer’s job, but her interactions with the girl had been so unsatisfactory so far that she thought she might as well just fetch the food herself. She wandered through to the back room, where she came across Dr Ryan at a little table doing some paperwork.

He looked startled to see her. ‘Hello, Mrs Bird. Everything all right? Are you here with Jake? Why are you…?’

She held up the key. ‘Jake’s fine; I’m just here for his food. I was sent back here to get Pheasant Flavour Doggy Chum – there’s none at the front.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, jumping to his feet. ‘Let me get it foryou. This temp is hopeless, I’m afraid. Even so, I can’t believe she is sending the customers to do errands.’

Julia handed him the key with its red tag. ‘I don’t really mind, but I must say it was a bit of a surprise.’

‘Well, she’s been here for a week and today is her last day. Apart from anything else, it turns out she doesn’t like dogs! She’s scared of them. Can you imagine anyone not liking dogs? Let alone not liking dogs and taking a temp job at a vet’s? I’ll have to ask the agency to send someone else. Someone a bit more sensible. Someone who likes dogs.’

Dr Ryan sighed. He went into the storeroom and came out with a bag of dog food hefted under his arm. He looked so unhappy.

‘I’m sure you miss Olga. She was so efficient. And she loved dogs.’

‘I do miss Olga. And Dr Eve. It’s been difficult, actually, getting on with work without them.’

They shared a moment’s silence at the memory of the two women, and then went into the reception area. A woman and a little boy were waiting. The boy had a large rat in a cage on his knee. The rat had a bandage on its leg.

‘Hello, Tom; hello, Ratty. I’ll be with you in a mo,’ said Dr Ryan. To the receptionist, he said, ‘Please ring this up; I’ll take it to Mrs Bird’s car.’

Julia went out to the car with him and opened the boot. Poor Dr Ryan, having to make do with such terrible staff on top of a doubled workload. And now he was carrying dog food to the car. It was a pity he couldn’t find someone permanent to replace Olga. Someone reliable. Someone who loved animals, and dogs in particular. He needed someone young and cheery; but nottooyoung ortoocheery.

Julia was struck by a good idea. Well, she thought it was a good idea. She hesitated, though. It wasn’t without risk. Oh, what the heck, might as well give it a go, she thought. Theevents of the past week or so had made her feel bolder, more eager to grasp the moment, because honestly, who knew what the future held? She addressed the vet: ‘I know someone who I think would be perfect for your reception. He’s a young man who has just moved back to the area and is looking for temporary work to start with. He is quite sensible and absolutely brilliant with dogs. Jake adores him.’

‘Please ask him to phone me. He can’t possibly be as dim as this poor girl.’

‘I can tell you for certain that you wouldn’t have to worry that he’d send a customer to get a big bag of dog food from the storeroom herself.’

‘He sounds like a genius. I look forward to his phone call.’

On the drive home from the vet, Julia thought about Hector, and his recent purchase. She knew he liked his Shakespeare. In fact, hadn’t he boasted that he’d learnt all the lines of all the plays? Something like that. But presumably he already had a copy of theCollected Works. Or at least the individual plays. How would he have learnt them otherwise? And why would he be buying another? Unless…

Unless he’d lost his copy. Julia could still see the scene of Roger Grave’s death, the book lying next to his body, its flattened corner matching a bruise from the blow to his temple. Could Hector have hit Roger Grave over the head with the heavy book? If so, his original copy was in the forensics lab, and he was now in possession of a replacement, purchased at Second Chances.

She reached instinctively for her phone. This was something she needed to tell Hayley Gibson about. While her hand was digging in the well between the seats, her mind was racing to the next logical thought about Hector. A bicycle turned into the road. The cyclist took the turn a little wide and wobbled too close to her. Distracted by her thoughts and the search for her phone, Julia saw him only just in time to avoid him. The nearmiss shocked her into concentration. She abandoned her scrabble for the phone and put both hands on the wheel, both eyes on the road, and her mind on the job of getting home safely. When she got there, she would phone Hayley Gibson and tell her about Hector and the book.

The more she thought about it, the more suspicious she felt, and the more sure she was that Hector had been the one wielding the heavy book. But why? Hector had been disappointed about the casting of the play, but that surely was no reason to kill a person? And where did Graham’s death fit in? Even if Hector had thrown the Shakespeare at Roger in a fit of rage, why on earth would he have killed Graham?

As soon as she parked the car, she found her phone and searched for Hayley’s number. She hit the ‘dial’ button as she got out of the car. Hayley answered before she’d reached the front door.

‘Hello, Julia.’

‘Hello.’

‘I suppose you are phoning about Nicky’s hit-and-run.’ Hayley wasn’t much one for a preamble. Straight to the point, was the DI. ‘Well, you can relax. We watched the tapes. The alleged would-be male murderer was a little old lady swerving to avoid a pigeon. She missed Nicky by miles. It was not an attempt on her life, as she thought.’

‘Ah, well, that’s good news, I suppose, but that’s not why I was phoning…It’s…’

---