Page 61 of Murder in the Winter Woods
‘And they wanted him to agree to try and pull their money out of the scheme.’
The kettle whistled, and Julia got up to set a tea tray.
‘Yes. He refused, as you know,’ Hayley said. ‘The way they tell it, they weren’t pleased. In fact, Coral said she was furious and has sent him an email just this morning giving him a good piece of her mind.’
‘She’s quite a livewire, is Coral,’ said Julia, pouring the boiling water into the teapot. ‘But if she’d killed him, she probably wouldn’t be telling you that, or leading you to the evidence of conflict.’
‘I read the email. It wasn’t threatening. And if she sent it this morning, she wasn’t expecting him to be dead.’ Hayley paused. ‘Unless that’s what she wants me to think.’
Despite the unfolding drama, Julia’s mind kept returning to her stomach, which had that hot, empty feeling. She opened the breadbin, and took out half a loaf of seeded wholemeal. She held it up to Hayley with an inquisitive expression. ‘Toast?’
‘Yes please. Anyhow, they said that they saw him yesterday, and then set up a meeting with the lawyer. I expect that’s what Hester could have meant when she told you that they had done what they needed to do.’
‘Did you tell them about the poisoning?’ Julia cut two slices of bread and put them in the toaster.
‘Eventually. Once they’d told me all they knew about Ken. They seemed genuinely surprised and horrified to hear about it. And of course, they denied having anything to do with it.’
‘Did you believe them?’
‘They were pretty convincing. I could probably get a warrant to search their kitchens, and test for poisons and so on, but I doubt I’d find anything.’
‘Well, that leaves you looking for a poisoner, doesn’t it?’ Julia said. She poured the tea, adding a drop of milk, as Hayley liked it, and handed her the cup. The toast popped up. ‘Marmalade?’
‘Thanks. And yes, I’m still looking for a poisoner with something to gain from Ken’s death. This whole business is just so strange,’ Hayley said. ‘I feel as if I’m missing a great big piece of the puzzle, but I can’t see what it is. Or where it fits.’
Julia brought the butter and marmalade to the table. ‘I know what you mean, Hayley. There are lots of bits that might sort of fit, but it’s not coming together. Let’s go back to Lewis and Matthew’s murders – if they are murders. What do the victims have in common with Ken?’
Hayley sighed, and said: ‘They grew up in the village. They went to school together. They knew each other as young men, and played in a band. Most recently, all three of them invested together with Anthony Ardmore.’
The toast popped up. Julia put a piece on each side plate and handed one plate to Hayley. ‘It’s not poisoned, I promise.’
Hayley gave her a reluctant twitch that passed for a smile.
‘And we know that with the brand-new car, and the kitchen still to pay for, Anthony Ardmore would do just about anything to keep that money invested…’ Julia continued. ‘But Hayley, would he stretch to murder?’
‘That’s a question one can never really answer,’ said Hayley thoughtfully, spreading butter onto her toast. ‘But he didn’t doit. Walter Farmer checked his alibi for Matthew’s death. He was home with his girlfriend, Clarissa.’
Julia felt a jolt of realisation so strong that it was almost like an electric shock: ‘Oh my word, Hayley! I’ve just realised, his alibi doesn’t hold. Clarissa bought honey that day.’
Hayley frowned at her in confusion, or perhaps irritation. ‘What are you talking about? What’s honey got to do with it?’
‘Anthony said he was at home with Clarissa, and not at the market, when Lewis died. But I know for a fact that he and Clarissawereat the Christmas market. Or at the very least, Clarissa was at the market, so Anthony wasn’t at home with her. I know, because she ordered honey from Hester that day. I was helping Hester with the orders and I delivered it to Clarissa yesterday. Which means Anthony must be lying.’
Julia hadn’t got to the end of the story before Hayley was on her phone: ‘Walter,’ she snapped. ‘Anthony Ardmore…’
29
‘Take your pick,’ said Flo, waving across the tea room, where only two tables were occupied. ‘As you see, it’s very quiet, even for a Tuesday. Not that I’m complaining, I’ll be run off my feet by the end of the day, I’ve no doubt.’
‘Here’s nice,’ Julia said, and sat down at a table that gave her a clear view down the main road towards the centre of the village. She mused that she must have sat at every table in the place, in her time in Berrywick. For preference, though, she usually took a window table. It suited her inquisitive nature.
‘You can keep an eye on the road from that window table. Watch the passing parade,’ said Flo, who was not unobservant when it came to human nature. ‘Shall I bring you a menu?’
‘No need, Flo.’ As well as sitting at every table, Julia reckoned she had probably tasted everything the menu had to offer. All of it good. ‘Jake and I came out early and we have had a good long walk already. I think I’m going to treat myself to the full English. And a coffee, please.’
‘Right you are,’ said Flo. ‘And I’ll bring a little something for himself.’ She nodded towards Jake, who was gazing upon her with limpid eyes and the level of adoration befitting the Queen of the Buttered Scone and Bestower of Bacon Largesse.
‘That’s very kind of you, Flo, I’m sure himself will be most appreciative.’
