Page 5 of A Very Bookish Murder (Ally McKinley Mystery #3)
FIVE
In the morning, Ally’s four remaining guests all arrived in the dining room within ten minutes of each other, and seemed uncharacteristically quiet as they helped themselves to fruit and cereals.
Penelope and Millie both opted for cooked breakfasts today, while both Joyce and Brigitte confessed to being ‘not very hungry’.
Ally could understand that as she had very little appetite herself.
‘So, what’s our schedule for today then?’ Joyce asked no one in particular as Ally served the cooked breakfasts.
There followed much headshaking and shrugging.
‘Well,’ said Penelope loudly, ‘we still must go to the hotel for lunch and dinner, and I suggest that we try to follow the original schedule as closely as possible, even if Jodi is not around to critique our work.’
‘Perhaps we could mark each other’s?’ Millie suggested quietly.
‘I have decided,’ Penelope said loudly and firmly, ‘that each of us will tell our life story, or talk about incidents in our life, every morning. Then, in the afternoons, we can compose a short story based on what we heard. We can then read them out and, as Millie suggests, critique each other’s writing. ’
There were some moans in the background.
‘I’m not happy standing up and talking to people,’ Joyce muttered. She looked unsure and uncomfortable, and Ally wondered why.
‘All I can think of is my life in France before I met my husband,’ Brigitte said.
‘I’m not very interesting,’ Millie said, ‘although I did once, long ago, almost get chosen for the Olympics.’
‘That’s amazing!’ Joyce exclaimed.
‘I would love to hear about that,’ Brigitte said.
‘Good, good! That’s settled then,’ boomed Penelope. ‘Brilliant idea! We’ll go ahead with that then.’
No one argued.
‘My husband will arrive here tomorrow,’ Brigitte said to Ally. ‘Can we talk later?’
Ally nodded, having a fair idea what might be coming. She could hear the phone ringing in the hall and Ross answering it. When she returned to the kitchen, Ross said, ‘That was the police.’
‘Did they say how Rigby was?’ Ally asked anxiously.
‘He’s still alive, but they didn’t have an update on his progress,’ Ross said.
‘His replacement on this case is on his way and wants to talk to you before he interviews the women at the hotel. Incidentally, he wants all the women to be at the Craigmonie today, including the four who’re staying here. ’
‘They planned to go down there anyway,’ Ally said.
She sighed loudly. ‘This is so crazy! I have no idea for how long these women will be here, what they’re going to be doing, or how many husbands and partners are likely to appear.
Just as well I haven’t any more bookings for another month or so.
’ This reminded her of Brigitte, who was still presumably waiting in the dining room.
But Brigitte wasn’t in the dining room, so Ally ventured upstairs and, as she walked past Jodi’s room, noticed that the door was ajar.
She was sure she’d left it closed, and she’d meant to lock it because she knew the police might want to look in there but had been distracted by the other guests returning as she’d been looking for the key.
Ally opened the door and there, standing in front of the chest of drawers reading what looked like a diary, was none other than Brigitte.
Brigitte laid the diary down hastily. ‘I just wanted to have a look at the room,’ she said, ‘because I wondered if I could move in here when my husband arrives tomorrow? He worries about me, you see?’ She gave a little pout.
‘Now that Jodi is no longer here, is it possible we could move in here, with the double bed?’ She looked sadly at Ally.
‘Also, I do not like to tell her, but that Penelope snores like a hippopotamus ! So loud . I cannot sleep .’
Ally had never heard a hippopotamus snore, but since Penelope was so loud anyway, she didn’t doubt it for a moment.
‘I have every sympathy, Brigitte, but the new detective is on his way now to talk to us all, and for sure he’s going to want to check Jodi’s room.
And she has a husband who will doubtless want to deal with her personal things.
So perhaps we can talk about it again tomorrow? ’
Brigitte pulled a face but nodded. ‘Yes, of course. And I must tell you that there were some strange noises coming from our bathroom also on Sunday night, which I think is perhaps the pipes, but it was difficult to know because of the snoring.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Ally.
Oh, Willie ! she thought.
Wailing Willie was the ghost she’d acquired along with the malthouse.
A couple of hundred years ago, Willie, along with his bagpipes, had broken into the still-functioning malthouse to taste some of the finished product, also stored there, and had happily drunk himself to death while playing his pipes.
The drunker Willie got, the more wailing emanated from the pipes, and now, rumour had it, Willie still wailed away shortly before a local death was imminent.
Ally, originally sceptical, was now more inclined to admit that there just might be some truth in this after some of the events which had occurred over the past year. If Willie was still around, he inhabited the en-suite bathroom to Room 2.
But as she made her way downstairs, Ally wasn’t thinking about Willie; she kept visualising Brigitte standing in Room 1 reading Jodi’s diary. It was high time the bedroom door was locked, so she went straight downstairs, got the key, and did just that.
Morag McConnachie arrived at nine o’clock to do the cleaning. As she tied her apron round her middle, she said, ‘For God’s sake, Ally, what’s goin’ on in Locharran?’
‘One of my guests was murdered at the Craigmonie yesterday afternoon – that’s what’s going on,’ Ally replied somewhat tersely.
Morag stared at her. ‘There was police all over the place this mornin’,’ she said, ‘and the Craigmonie’s not takin’ any new guests for the moment.’
‘The police will have to examine everything thoroughly before it can be opened up again, I expect.’
‘But, Ally, who was she? And how did she get hersel’ murdered?’
‘I don’t think she planned it exactly, Morag! She was an author, giving a lecture, and later found strangled in the ladies’ toilet – by me !’
‘It was yersel’ that found her?’ Morag stared at her in horror. ‘Oh my God! Ye couldnae make it up.’
Never was a truer word spoken , Ally thought.
After the four women had left in Joyce’s Land Rover, and Morag was vacuuming upstairs, the inevitable happened. It was her son on the phone.
‘Mum!’ Jamie said. ‘I’ve just seen the news. You’ve got another murder!’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Ally admitted.
‘You once said that you wanted to get away from the crime of the big city,’ Jamie said to her sternly, ‘and look where it’s got you. This is ridiculous! You must really think about selling up that place and coming back to civilisation.’
Ally rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, Jamie, I’m fine. Really. And I love it here.’
‘If it wasn’t for the fact I know you’ve got Ross living nearby,’ he said, ‘I’d be right up there to bring you back. I worry about you.’
‘You’ve no need to,’ Ally assured him as she ended the call. ‘I’m well looked after.’ She was perfectly aware that Jamie, no matter how concerned he might be, would find it difficult to abandon his building company even for a day or two. Likewise his wife, Liz, with her boutique.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, which made Ally worry in case it might be a guest seeking accommodation and she wouldn’t be able to accommodate them.
On the doorstep was a tall, very good-looking South Asian man. He looked as if he might be in his mid-forties. He was smiling, and he had lovely teeth. Ally was very fussy about teeth, and his were beautiful.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked. ‘I’m afraid all my rooms are taken at the moment…’
He held up his ID card. ‘Detective Inspector Amir Kandahar,’ he said in a broad Glaswegian accent.
‘Oh!’ Ally was momentarily at a loss for words.
With everything else going on, she’d forgotten that Rigby’s replacement was on his way.
‘Oh, do come in,’ she added hastily and led the way into the guests’ sitting room, cursing the fact she hadn’t removed last night’s mugs from the coffee table.
‘I hope you don’t mind these,’ she said, waving her hand at the mugs.
‘I haven’t had time to tidy up. My guests had hot chocolates when they got back last night. ’
‘That’s quite all right,’ he said, smiling again as he took a seat. ‘I’m sorry to bother you when you’re obviously busy, but I do have to ask you about yesterday afternoon at the Craigmonie Hotel. Detective Inspector Rigby obviously recorded a lot of conversation before he?—’
‘How is he?’ Ally interrupted anxiously as she sat down opposite him. ‘Have you heard anything?’
‘He’s in Glasgow Royal Infirmary and making good progress. I went to see him for a few minutes when he got there last night, and he said that I should see you first because it was you who found the body of Jodi Jones. He also said it was you who saved his life as well.’
‘Do you think he’ll be able to return to work any time soon?’ Ally asked.
‘It seems unlikely that he’ll be back in harness for quite a while, so I’m taking over for the moment.’
‘Poor Rigby,’ Ally said sadly.
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with me for the time being,’ he said, displaying that lovely smile again. ‘Now, I must ask you about yesterday afternoon.’