Page 16 of A Very Bookish Murder (Ally McKinley Mystery #3)
THIRTEEN
The three Craigmonie residents had returned to their hotel, Brigitte and George had gone out somewhere or other, and the other two women had retired to their rooms to watch TV but now came rushing downstairs when they heard the ambulance arrive with sirens blaring.
‘What do we know about this lady?’ one of the paramedics asked as they lifted Joyce onto the stretcher.
‘I can bring down her handbag, if that’s any help?’ Millie asked before rushing upstairs again.
‘She was chatting away just a short time ago,’ bawled an appalled Penelope. ‘She seemed perfectly well, then.’
‘I only know she’s diabetic,’ Ally said, ‘and she doesn’t drink alcohol.’
The paramedics exchanged glances. ‘Could be an insulin overdose,’ one of them said as they lifted the stretcher into the ambulance, having established her name, address and as many particulars as possible from her diary in her handbag.
‘Better keep that safe upstairs, Millie,’ Ross advised, indicating the handbag.
Ally was thankful he was there because he had taken over, calmed the two women down and had phoned the Craigmonie to talk to Callum about the three women who were staying there.
‘In case there’s any suspicion of foul play, it’s probably wise to make sure that none of them leave.
’ As he came off the phone, he said to Ally, ‘This could be quite serious, bearing in mind what you said to me earlier.’
‘I hope she’s going to be all right,’ Ally said as she watched the ambulance racing down the road, lights flashing, sirens blaring. ‘Joyce was very careful about her diet so I can’t believe she’d have got her insulin dose wrong.’
‘Plainly she got it very wrong,’ Ross remarked, then added, ‘unless it was administered by someone else.’
‘Oh God!’ exclaimed Ally. ‘I hadn’t even thought of that!’
‘Don’t forget she was about to tell you who she thought the killer was,’ Ross said.
‘Do you think then that she, too, could be a victim of the killer if the killer suspected she was about to spill the beans?’
‘Let’s see what happens,’ Ross said calmly. ‘Hopefully she’ll recover and be able to tell us what happened.’
Ally did not sleep well. She was feeling distracted, worrying so much that she could hardly set the breakfast table. Then, at the same time as her guests appeared for breakfast, so did Detective Inspector Amir Kandahar.
‘Come into the kitchen, Amir,’ Ally said, ‘and I’ll make you a tea. I’m just about to do breakfasts.’
The detective sat down at the far end of the kitchen table and removed a file from his briefcase. He cleared his throat and said, ‘I’m really sorry to tell you this, but Joyce Williams died just after midnight from what appears to have been a massive overdose of insulin.’
‘Oh, no !’
Ally began to cry, and Ross put his arm around her shoulders. ‘How on earth could that happen?’ he asked.
‘She had to have been injected,’ Amir said. ‘Her body has been examined thoroughly, but it’s difficult to diagnose because she obviously injects herself every day.’
‘Yes, she kept her insulin in a box in my fridge,’ Ally said, wiping her eyes.
‘I’ll need that box, please. And I need to know who might have had access to it.’
‘Access!’ Ally shook her head. ‘Well, I suppose everyone had?—’
‘Everyone?’ Amir frowned.
‘Well, I don’t lock the kitchen door, so anyone could have sneaked in there when I was out.’
‘So anyone staying here could be a suspect?’
‘Yes, of course. Are you saying that you think she’s been murdered then?
’ Ally asked, thinking back in horror to her conversation of the previous evening.
She accepted a handkerchief from Ross and gave her nose a blow.
‘If that’s true, then it must have been while she was lazing in the garden? ’ She handed Amir his tea distractedly.
Amir didn’t reply for a moment. Then he said, ‘I need to talk to you about that. I need to know who was with her yesterday evening and for how long. My officers are searching the garden and the surrounding area at this moment to see if they can find a syringe, just in case someone administered the drug in the garden and then threw away the syringe, so I apologise if we mess up some of your flower beds and pots.’
‘I’ll sort that out later,’ Ross said to Ally, ‘so don’t you worry.’
‘What about breakfasts?’ Ally asked, looking towards the dining room.
No sooner had she spoken than Ross went straight in there and emerged a minute later. ‘All continental,’ he said, ‘because no one’s feeling very hungry. I’ll sort it.’
Ally wondered for the umpteenth time what on earth she’d do without Ross. She might consider herself to be a strong, independent woman, but on occasions like this, he was indispensable and endlessly supportive. As she placed some bread in the toaster for herself, she asked, ‘What can we do now?’
Amir sipped his tea, phone at the ready. ‘Just for a start we need a detailed account of everyone’s movements yesterday evening. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve posted a policeman at your front door to prevent anyone from leaving, and likewise down at the hotel.’
Ally told him in as much detail as she could about the earl’s picnic, and all the women sitting in the garden afterwards, including Laura, who had not actually gone to the picnic. What could have been Laura’s reason for suddenly appearing out of the blue? Laura, who never normally joined in.
‘There’s something I haven’t told you, Amir,’ Ally said hesitantly. ‘Laura Pike has been seen leaving Owen Jones’s van in her underwear. She’s almost certainly having an affair with Jodi’s ex-husband.’
Amir pulled a face. ‘That certainly could be a motive, and we really don’t have much in the way of motives so far, do we? What about the Frenchwoman with the husband?’ Amir asked. ‘You said they went out yesterday evening?’
‘Yes, but they only went out for a drink at the Craigmonie Bar, I believe,’ Ally replied.
‘And did they spend much time in your garden with the others before they went out?’
‘Probably half an hour or so,’ Ally said, racking her brain.
‘Hmm,’ said Amir. ‘Do you have any idea how long they all remained in the garden together? Who left first? Who left last?’
Ally shook her head, looking at Ross, who’d rejoined them now the breakfasts had been dealt with. ‘We didn’t go out to join them, did we? We left them to it until about eight o’clock when we went out to put away the cushions and found poor Joyce comatose.’
Amir nodded, and Ally noticed him looking questioningly at Ross.
‘Sorry,’ she added, ‘I should have introduced you earlier. This is my friend, Ross Patterson, who was with me all day yesterday. And, Ross, as I’m sure you’re aware by now, this is Detective Inspector Amir Kandahar.’
Both men smiled and nodded at each other.
‘Are the remaining three women all in the dining room?’ Amir asked.
Ally nodded, though she didn’t much like the way he said ‘remaining women’ like they were being knocked off, one by one. And then there were none ! ‘I’ll go and see them,’ she added, standing up and making her way towards the door.
As she walked through the hall, she noticed a lone policeman standing guard outside the front door and wondered briefly if she should offer him a hot drink.
In the dining room, there was a buzz of conversation, everyone talking at once, then a lapse into silence when they saw Ally coming in.
‘Can I get you anything else?’ she asked, noticing that they seemed to be almost finished. ‘More coffee? Tea?’
There was a general shaking of heads. ‘What’s going on out there?’ asked George.
Ally realised that they hadn’t yet heard the news. ‘I’m really sorry to tell you that poor Joyce died in the hospital around midnight,’ she said, feeling tears prickling her eyes again.
‘ What? ’
‘How?’
‘Why?’
‘So where do the police come into all this?’ asked George.
‘The inspector will tell you everything,’ Ally said, aware that it wasn’t her place to tell them anything.
‘Well, plainly, the constabulary are not here for the good of their health,’ boomed Penelope, wiping crumbs off her sweater. ‘So who’s going to be next, eh?’ She looked round at the others. ‘I’m not so sure now about staying on for another week.’
‘We might not have the choice,’ said Millie. ‘Let’s wait to see what the detective’s going to say.’
‘Thank God you are here, George,’ murmured Brigitte, clasping his arm. ‘I could not cope with this all on my own.’ She bit into a croissant.
‘We all left the garden about the same time last night,’ Millie said, looking around, ‘leaving Joyce asleep on the lounger because it seemed such a shame to wake her.’
At this point, Amir, armed with his phone and his briefcase, came through the door.
‘Thanks, Ally,’ he said, giving her a look which she took as a cue to leave.
The policeman at the door, when asked, said he could murder a cup of strong tea, then clapped his hand over his mouth and added, ‘Perhaps that wasn’t the most diplomatic way of asking?’
When Morag arrived to do the rooms she was bewildered to see police at the door and in the garden. ‘What the hell’s goin’ on now ?’ she asked crossly.
Ally told her.
‘Which woman was that? The diabetic one, or the wee one, or the loud one, or the madam with the husband?’
‘The diabetic one. How did you know she was diabetic, Morag?’
‘Because I saw her insulin in the fridge and the yellow sharps box in the bedroom where she puts her syringes after she’ll have injected herself. I saw all that when I was cleaning. Murdo’s brother’s a diabetic, so I know the signs.’
‘The police think she may have received an overdose of insulin,’ Ally said, ‘while she was asleep under the rowan tree.’
‘Goodness me!’ exclaimed Morag. ‘At this rate, ye’ll have naebody left!’ She frowned. ‘How am I supposed to do the rooms with them all hangin’ about?’
‘I don’t know, Morag. Perhaps ask them – politely – if they’d be kind enough to wait in the sitting room while you do the cleaning?’
‘What a bugger!’ said Morag.