Page 33 of A Very Bookish Murder (Ally McKinley Mystery #3)
TWENTY-FOUR
As they streamed into the reception area, Ally turned to Millie, who was holding one hand against her eye. ‘Are you OK?’
‘No, it’s very, very painful. I’m wondering if she’s cracked the bone, and I know I’m going to have the most awful bruise,’ Millie replied.
‘Let me have a look,’ Ally said.
Millie lowered her hand and displayed the vivid red mark and swelling around her eye.
‘We need to get some ice, pronto!’ Ally said, turning to Callum.
Penelope who, until now, had remained tight-lipped and furious, dissolved into noisy tears as she plonked herself down on a sofa. ‘I’m so sorry, Millie,’ she wailed. ‘You know that punch was meant for Laura!’
‘Yes,’ Millie snapped, ‘but it doesn’t alter the fact that I’m going to have a black eye by the morning, a real shiner!’
Callum had reappeared with a bag of ice cubes which Ally pressed against Millie’s sore eye, instructing her to keep it in position.
Then she stood back and surveyed the scene: Penelope still weeping noisily; Morwenna helping Millie to keep the ice in place; Brigitte sniffing and dabbing her eyes.
What an evening! How could a supposedly celebratory dinner go so very wrong?
Asking for motives and confessions had not been a good Idea. Neither was the gin at lunchtime.
Callum turned to Ally. ‘Can we get them all out of here, Ally? I think we’ve had sufficient drama for one evening, and they’ve had far too much to drink.
’ He stopped and sighed. ‘I blame myself for starting the ball rolling by letting them have the freebie bottles, but I’d no idea it would end like this.
How about I get my car out and drive you all back up to the malthouse? ’
‘No thanks, Callum,’ Ally said, ‘because I think we need fresh air. We’ll walk.’
‘Oh my God, look who’s here!’ Penelope said as George appeared from the bar.
Millie dropped the bag of ice, and Morwenna gasped.
George looked at them, obviously puzzled. ‘You all going back?’ he asked hesitantly. ‘I meant to join you for coffee, but I got chatting to this bloke and…’ He faltered, looking around at the group of women, staring at him in amazement. ‘What’s?—?’
‘I told them,’ Brigitte said in little more than a whisper. ‘I told them who you are.’
George frowned, looking bewildered. ‘Is that why you’re all in such a state?’
‘No,’ Ally informed him. ‘We had a little fracas in the dining room and we’re heading back to the malthouse now.’
George put his arm around Brigitte. ‘Probably time we all got out of here, darling.’
‘No,’ said Brigitte, ‘can we please stop and have a drink because I need to talk to you.’
As she spoke, the elevator door opened and out stepped Bob Rigby.
‘Oh my word!’ he exclaimed, looking at Ally. ‘What a crowd! What’s going on? We were just settling into our room upstairs and I heard some commotion going on, so thought I’d come down to investigate.’
You can’t change the habits of a true detective , Ally thought with some amusement as she walked towards Rigby and gave him a hug.
‘It’s been quite an evening,’ she said, ‘and you’ve missed the action but’ – she paused – ‘you might want to meet your nephew!’ She indicated George standing just behind.
‘ What ? My nephew?’
‘This is the son that Joanne ran away to have,’ Ally informed him gently.
It was Rigby who made the first move, stepping forward and holding out his hand to George. George hesitantly shook his hand and then, after a moment, the two men embraced tightly.
‘Brigitte, I think you should come with us,’ Ally said, taking her by the arm. ‘We need to leave George here for a little while to get to know his uncle. Come on, ladies,’ she said to the others, who were standing open-mouthed in amazement, ‘we need to leave George here for now! Let’s head home!’
The night was cool and calm, the women wobbly. They kept having to stop every few yards.
Penelope kept repeating, ‘How dare she call me an overprivileged bitch! How dare she!’ Then she put an arm round Millie. ‘I’m sorry, Millie! You know it was meant for that cow Laura and not for you!’
‘Yes, yes,’ Millie said, still holding the rapidly melting ice pack to her eye. ‘I know, I know! Just don’t keep going on about it.’
‘Why on earth didn’t George tell us that he was Jodi’s son?’ Morwenna stopped to ask. ‘Brigitte, why couldn’t you have told us?’
‘George wanted to keep it secret because it might have made me a suspect in the murder,’ Brigitte replied.
Ally shrugged. ‘I should have guessed because there was quite a resemblance.’
Penelope hiccupped. ‘I’d like to go back and punch that bitch properly,’ she said, turning around and almost falling over.
Ally grabbed her by the arm. ‘You’ll do no such thing, Penelope! You’ll go to bed and sleep this off! Breakfast will be at half past nine in the morning because of going to the funeral and’ – she paused – ‘you’ve all got to be packed and ready to leave afterwards.’
There were groans from all four.
‘You can borrow my dark glasses, Millie,’ Penelope said, blowing her nose and then patting Millie on the back.
‘I’ve got dark glasses of my own,’ Millie replied tersely. ‘I always carry them with me.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Penelope said, stopping again.
‘No need to keep apologising,’ Millie said.
Ally had a sudden thought. ‘I expect Laura will be at the funeral tomorrow, being as she’s living with the ex-husband,’ she said. ‘So, for goodness’ sake, Penelope, do not make a scene!’
‘Of course not,’ Penelope snapped, ‘but it’ll take all my willpower.’ She took Ally’s arm and wobbled her way up the final stretch of road to the malthouse.
When they finally got into the hall, Ally stood by to ensure that they all got up the stairs safely and waited to hear the sounds of the bedroom doors closing. There would be a few sore heads in the morning, that was for sure. She wondered briefly what time George would get back.
She let an overjoyed Flora out for a run in the garden, then went back into the kitchen.
She was about to switch off the kitchen lights and go up to bed when she suddenly decided it was time to adjust the board.
She would never sleep unless she altered it in line with this evening’s revelations.
She removed the picture from the wall and stared blankly at the fluttering Post-its for a moment.
Her mobile rang. She knew it couldn’t be anyone but Ross at that time of night.
‘How did it go?’ he asked cheerfully.
‘You would not believe!’ Ally replied. ‘I’ll tell you all in the morning. Have your guests arrived yet?’
‘They should be here in the next twenty minutes or so. By the time I get them settled in it’s going to be too late to come round, but I’m longing to hear all about it in the morning. I’ll be with you early to help with breakfast; the last one for this lot, eh?’
‘The last one,’ Ally confirmed before she switched off her phone and returned to the board.
She thought about her original line-up and how she’d only been able to remove Joyce and Della.
She felt strongly now that Laura should be removed from the twelve o’clock spot, and yet…
After all, she had no evidence to do so, just that damned gut feeling.
Logically though, she knew she couldn’t remove Laura altogether, but perhaps lower her down a bit, say to nine o’clock?
And Brigitte was hardly likely to have murdered her husband’s mother, was she?
She must certainly have felt like it at times, but there was no doubting that she adored her husband and so would not have wanted to hurt him.
Surely it would be safe to move her right down to six o’clock?
Ally studied the remaining three: Penelope, Millie and Morwenna.
Penelope must now be at the top position at twelve, because Ally had seen the violent streak she’d displayed in attacking Laura.
That left Millie and Morwenna currently at seven and five respectively, mainly because they had to go somewhere .
But when she considered it more deeply, she realised she had no evidence against Millie, and Morwenna’s story was completely plausible.
But, then again, they were both there and could have done it.
She moved Millie up to eight and Morwenna up to four.
She then replaced the picture back on the wall.
She made herself a coffee and sat down, absently stroking Flora’s head.
One of these women just had to have killed Jodi Jones, and she still had no real idea who that could be.
She’d see Amir at the funeral tomorrow, and perhaps he might have discovered something of relevance.
She had a feeling in the pit of her stomach, something akin to dread, about tomorrow.
After the state they’d got into at the dinner tonight, what on earth were they going to be like at the funeral?
At least she and Ross would be able to have a quiet evening later, with no guests!
Sighing, Ally drained her coffee, then heard George come back in and go upstairs. She checked the locks and went up to bed.
When Ally woke up at five the next morning, as she frequently did, her first thoughts were that somebody was downstairs.
There was a creaking of floorboards, which could always be heard when someone entered or left the kitchen.
The sound only lasted a few seconds, and Ally convinced herself that she’d imagined it before she turned over and went back to sleep.