Page 70 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem

‘I’m not meddling. I’m only asking questions.’

‘So, you’re investigating this crime yourself, are you?’

Fortunately, I stopped my big mouth from saying I was investigating it with some ghost friends. Instead, I nodded.

‘All right. Putting this Elvis character aside, I’ve a few things to talk to you about.’

‘Okay.’ Beads of sweat formed on the back of my neck. I smothered a shiver.

‘You were upstairs talking to Mr Morris shortly before his death. You’ve told me that, and a colleague of yours has confirmed it.’

Melissa. ‘That’s right.’

‘You were very interested in the academic volume Mr Morris was studying. It is quite valuable, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, I believe so.’

‘You didn’t mention this book in your statement.’

That’s what this was about. ‘You’re right. I forgot. When I gave my statement, I was concentrating on Mr Morris and on where I and everyone else was at the time the visitor screamed.’

The inspector stood and sauntered around to the front of the desk. She leaned back against it and looked right down at me. I tried not to squirm under her accusing gaze. ‘That’s rather convenient, forgetting to mention the theft of a priceless academic volume that you were very interested in yourself.’

‘It’s nothing but a misunderstanding.’ My feet twitched. The lines on my forehead creased. Darts of worry raced through me—anxiety that the inspector might accuse me of theft, if not murder.

‘That is as may be... but the facts are that you were overheard saying you wanted that book for yourself. You are a new member of staff at Chirtlewood. Your interest in that researcher and that book were noticed.’

‘I was friendly to Ronald like everyone else. That’s all. I never said I wanted the book for myself. That’s not true at all. Your theory is crazy, Inspector. Absolute nonsense.’ How dare she! Accusing me because I was kind to one of our regular visitors. The audacity of it!

Inspector Pentecost crossed her arms. ‘I have to consider all angles. Your behaviour was suspicious, and you had opportunity and motive. Do you have anything to say about that?’

I didn’t, because I was speechless. The best I could manage was a strangled protest of denial.

She set her jaw. ‘Very well.’

‘Are you arresting me? Do I need a lawyer?’

The inspector straightened. ‘Look, I’m not arresting you. I merely wanted a chat. You’re free to go, but I don’t want you to leave the Surrey area. Is that clear?’

‘Yes.’ I stood, relief flooding through me. I’d done nothing to deserve this appalling treatment. ‘Are you going to call my colleagues in for questioning like this?’

‘I may or may not. Constable McDonald will give you a ride back to Chirtlewood.’

I left the room, fuming. What would the others think of this? Would they regard me with suspicion? Would I even keep my job?

At the door, I glanced back. Inspector Pentecost stood, arms akimbo, watching me intently.

***

BACK AT CHIRTLEWOOD, I went to the office to finish my sandwich and found it had dried out and was unappetising. I gave up on it, threw it into the bin and returned to my role of overseeing visitors.

I crossed the entrance hall. Lydia, at the ticket counter, called me. Frowning, I went over to her.

‘What was that all about?’ she whispered. ‘With the police?’

I shrugged exaggeratedly. ‘I honestly don’t know. The inspector was treating me like... like I was a suspect.’

‘I suppose we all are until the police find the murderer.’

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