Page 34 of A Very Bookish Murder (Ally McKinley Mystery #3)

TWENTY-FIVE

Sunday dawned with a fine drizzle and grey clouds scudding across a leaden sky. An apt day for a funeral, Ally thought, as she pulled back the curtains.

Ross arrived about eight o’clock, just as Ally had begun to set up everything for breakfast. As they worked together, Ally gave him a detailed account of the previous evening’s shenanigans.

‘ George ?’ he kept repeating. ‘George is Jodi Jones’s son ?’

‘Yes, I do wonder why he didn’t tell us though. But I should have realised as there’s quite a strong resemblance.’

‘Not having seen Jodi, apart from occasionally in the media, I can’t honestly comment on that,’ Ross said. Then he grinned. ‘I know I shouldn’t laugh, but I’d have given a lot to witness that scene last night with big, stroppy Penelope hitting out at what’s her name…?’

‘Laura,’ Ally provided, ‘and punching poor little Millie, who was only trying to hold Laura back. She’s going to have a real shiner this morning!’

‘I should think there’s probably going to be a few sore heads this morning too,’ Ross remarked. ‘Do you think there’ll be many takers for a full Scottish breakfast?’

Ally shrugged. ‘No idea. But don’t forget they’ll all be heading home after the funeral so they’d be wise to have a decent breakfast.’ She popped some sausages into the oven on a low heat.

‘Could you halve these tomatoes for me, Ross, if you don’t mind?

You’re so much better at slicing evenly than I am! ’

Ross looked around. ‘Where’s that brilliant, big, sharp knife I normally use?’

‘Isn’t it in the drawer?’ Ally asked.

‘Nope.’

‘Probably still in the dishwasher then. I usually leave something in there,’ Ally said.

Ross slid out the dishwasher racks. ‘No, not in here.’

‘Oh,’ Ally said, ‘I expect it’ll turn up eventually. Use the serrated knife. Can you keep an eye on these sausages while I check the sitting room for anything anyone’s left behind before they all leave today?’

She didn’t really expect to find anything, but it was best to make sure.

It was while she’d slipped her hand down the side of the sofa that she found a bunch of keys, on the fob of which were the initials C and H, twisted together.

Who on earth was H.C.? Or C.H.? Ally tried to think of everyone she could remember having sat in there, including the present and past clientele, but no one seemed to tally with either variation of the initials.

Millie and Morwenna appeared downstairs together at twenty-five past nine, Millie in her dark glasses.

‘How’s the eye?’ Ally asked as they helped themselves to cereal.

‘A bit sore and quite spectacular,’ Millie replied, removing her sunglasses to display the swollen area around her eye, now in varying shades of black, blue and purple.

‘I was just saying to Millie that it must have taken some force to deliver a blow like that,’ said Morwenna, ‘so Penelope must be mighty strong.’

‘And whoever strangled Jodi Jones must have been mighty strong too,’ Millie said, replacing her glasses.

‘Because Jodi would surely have put up a fight?’ said Morwenna.

‘So we think it has to be Penelope who killed Jodi,’ Millie concluded.

Ally shook her head. ‘Who knows? Maybe we’ll get some clue today. Now, what would you like for breakfast?’

‘We’ve got a long day ahead,’ Millie remarked.

‘I’m giving Millie a lift to the airport,’ Morwenna said, ‘because it’s pretty much on my way. But it’s going to be a long day. Yes, I think I’ll have the full cooked breakfast.’

Millie nodded. ‘Yes, for me too, please.’

‘Incidentally,’ Ally said, ‘I found these keys down the side of the sofa. Would they belong to either of you?’

Morwenna shook her head, but Millie nodded. ‘Ah,’ she said, ‘I wondered where I’d dropped them. Yes, they’re mine.’

Ally handed her the keys, a little baffled.

Penelope appeared next, looking grey and tired. ‘Good morning, both,’ she said, stifling a yawn, ‘I hope you feel better than I do!’ She peered at Millie.

Millie pushed her glasses up. ‘Take a look at that! You are not aware of your own strength. And do not start apologising again.’

‘I am suitably chastened,’ Penelope said, pulling a sad face. She turned to Ally. ‘I will have the full breakfast today because there’s a long drive ahead for me.’

‘I guessed you probably all would,’ Ally said, just as Brigitte and George entered the dining room.

‘ Bonjour !’ Brigitte said cheerfully, looking around.

‘I’m glad someone’s feeling bright this morning,’ Ally said with a smile as she made her way towards the door. She stopped in her tracks when George, standing in the middle of the room, began to speak.

‘I think I owe everyone an apology,’ he said, ‘for not telling you who I was. But I was so afraid that it might involve Brigitte, and that you might suspect her as the killer.’

‘Well, she’s not out of the woods yet!’ Penelope snapped.

‘She told you last night why she was here,’ George continued, ‘which was to try to talk some sense into my strange mother.’

‘You never appeared particularly sad,’ Millie said, sitting down with a bowl of fruit, ‘and, after all, she was your mother.’

George sighed as he sat down opposite her at the table. ‘No, I didn’t come here straight away because yes, I was sad, but also relieved.’

There was a moment’s silence while everyone stared at him, digesting this.

‘I was an adult before I ever knew her,’ George went on, ‘and, at first, I was very emotional about the whole thing.’ He took a sip of fruit juice. ‘Then she began to try to control every damn thing I did.’

Ally remembered what Laura had said during dinner, that Jodi was a controller.

‘She’d appear every five minutes,’ George said, ‘telling me I should do this, I should do that. And it’s not as if she was lonely because she had a lover and a good social life.

But I found it very draining, particularly when she forbade me to marry.

We did marry, of course’ – here he patted Brigitte fondly on the arm as she sat down beside him – ‘but I never told my mother. Jodi had set me up with my own publishing business, you see, and I was very much afraid she might withdraw her money, which would have wrecked the business. I was in her debt, and I did not want Brigitte to be mixed up in any of this. But she was insistent on coming to this retreat to try to get to know Jodi and to get her to approve our marriage.’ He looked around, smiling.

‘At least I’ve acquired an uncle out of all this!

It’s the most incredible coincidence, and neither myself or my new uncle Bob can scarcely believe it!

In fact, when we leave here today, we’re going to spend a few days with him and his wife in Inverness. ’

Brigitte kissed him on the cheek. ‘There will be so much to talk about, to catch up on,’ she said.

It had gone quiet again, and Ally edged her way out of the room.

‘I heard,’ Ross said as she entered the kitchen. ‘Once I knew they were all in there, I eavesdropped outside the door.’ He was wearing a white shirt and dark trousers, with one of Ally’s aprons tied round his middle.

‘So what do you make of that then?’ Ally asked.

Ross shrugged. ‘It feels like he’s telling the truth, but somebody killed that bloody woman, and I’m beginning to wonder if Kandahar has a cat’s chance in hell of getting this all wrapped up today.’

Morag arrived at ten and set about loading up the dishwasher straight away.

‘I’ll get everythin’ done and dusted before ye get back,’ she said to Ally, glancing in Ross’s direction, ‘so ye can have a nice, quiet evenin’ after they’ve all gone. Are ye goin’ to the Craigmonie after the funeral?’

‘I don’t honestly know,’ Ally replied, shrugging. ‘We’ll play it by ear and see who else plans to go.’ All she could think about right now was a quiet, relaxed evening with Ross. ‘The dogs are romping round the garden, Morag, so don’t forget to lock them in when you leave.’

‘Aye, of course.’

‘And have you seen that big, sharp knife? You know the one that normally resides in the middle drawer?’

‘No, I haven’t, but I daresay it’ll show up somewhere,’ Morag replied.

Ross had removed the apron and was fitting a black tie around the collar of his white shirt. Then he donned a heavy dark-blue sweater. ‘I shall have my anorak on top,’ he informed Ally, ‘which is suitable gear for a windswept gathering in a field. It’ll be cold and wet up there.’

Ally had only ever been to Brodale once and she could certainly vouch for that fact. She’d chosen a black sweater and black jeans, and she’d wear her dark-green hooded jacket on top. She had no intention of getting any colder or wetter than was necessary.

The women were now dragging their suitcases down into the hall, to be collected when they got back from the funeral.

Penelope, Millie and Morwenna were anyway, but Brigitte and George had already loaded their bags into their car so that they could get away quickly afterwards.

Penelope had bossily insisted on driving Millie and Morwenna to the funeral in her car.

They were almost ready to leave when Morwenna suddenly remembered she’d left her make-up bag in the bathroom and hurried upstairs to get it.

‘What’s taking her so long?’ Penelope asked impatiently, looking down at her watch. She went to the foot of the stairs and shouted up, ‘Come on, Morwenna – we’re going to be late!’

Morwenna came down the stairs holding a William Morris-patterned sponge bag in one hand and what looked like a small, black notebook in the other.

‘I found this,’ she said, ‘when I was having a final check through the drawers.’ She held it out to Millie.

‘I think this is yours,’ she said, giving her a hard look.

At least that’s how it seemed to Ally.

Millie snatched it from her. ‘Thank you,’ she snapped before hastily shoving it into her bag.

‘Come on then!’ shouted Penelope. ‘High time we were leaving!’