Page 6 of A Very Bookish Murder (Ally McKinley Mystery #3)
Ally tried to pull her thoughts together.
She began to tell him about the ladies’ writing retreat and how she’d agreed to sit in on the afternoon session.
She told him about the fiery, red-haired Irish lady who had caused mayhem by accusing the famous Jodi Jones of plagiarism, and the coffee break that immediately followed it, when some of the women went to the ladies’ room and some didn’t.
Finally, she told that, when Jodi failed to reappear, she and Joyce went to investigate her whereabouts.
‘And I found her on the floor, right behind the cubicle door, her scarf pulled like a ligature around her neck. It was Joyce screaming that alerted all the other ladies, who came rushing to the scene.’
‘You attempted resuscitation?’ he asked.
‘Yes, but I’m not very practiced at it so, when another lady at the retreat called Anne offered to take over, I was very relieved. She said she’d been a nurse.’
The inspector nodded. ‘And it looked to you as if the ligature was the victim’s own scarf?’
‘Yes, that’s why I had to loosen it. And we’d all remarked about how lovely it was – the scarf, I mean!’ Ally said, feeling a little embarrassed at her choice of words, even as she shuddered at the memory.
‘So someone had bound this tightly round her neck,’ he stated.
‘It was awful, Inspector. Her face was all red, and there were scratch marks where she’d tried to pull the scarf away…’
‘Yes, I’ve seen the body, Mrs McKinley, and the pathology report indicates there’s no doubt she was strangled by someone who exerted great force, great strength. In your opinion, would you say that any of the women are particularly strong?’
‘Well, I suppose either Joyce or Penelope could fit the bill. Or it could, of course, have been a guest from another part of the hotel,’ Ally said.
‘Mr Dalrymple thinks that’s very unlikely, since that whole area was cordoned off for the writers’ group,’ Amir said. ‘Are there any of the other women who you think might be a likely suspect?’
Ally shook her head. ‘I hardly know them,’ she said. ‘But I suppose you can never tell.’
‘You’re right, you can never tell. I shall be interviewing them all this afternoon.’
‘Would you like some tea or coffee, Inspector?’ Ally asked, remembering Rigby who never turned down the offer of a cup of tea and used to eat all her shortbread.
‘That’s a kind offer,’ he said, ‘but I’ve a lot to do this morning, so I’m afraid I must refuse.’ He cocked his head to one side, listening. ‘Is there someone upstairs?’
‘Yes, that’s my cleaner, Morag McConnachie. I don’t know what I’d do without her when I have guests. She’s a brilliant cleaner. Her husband, Murdo, is the postman here.’ And a source of gossip for miles around , she refrained from adding.
‘She wouldn’t have been anywhere around yesterday afternoon?’ he asked.
‘No, she only comes here for a few hours in the morning when I have guests,’ Ally replied. ‘I’ve warned her not to go into Room One. That’s the room Jodi occupied until yesterday.’
He stood up. ‘Would you mind if I examine her bedroom now?’ he asked.
‘Not at all, Inspector,’ Ally said, getting to her feet. ‘I locked it up because I suspected you’d want to do that. One of my guests is expecting her husband to join her soon and has asked if she can move into that room, so the sooner you can give me the all-clear, so much the better.’
‘Well, the deceased’s husband is also on his way, and I think we should give him some priority, don’t you?’
‘I do,’ Ally agreed.
‘I understand that Detective Inspector Rigby thought very highly of you as the local sleuth,’ he said, smiling again.
Ally was astounded. ‘But he always doubted everything I said…’
‘That’s what police do!’ said his stand-in. ‘As you know the area so well, I might need you to work with me on this, but for the moment, could you just direct me to Miss Jones’s room, please?’
As Ally led the way upstairs, still trying to digest what the inspector had just said, she encountered Morag and the vacuum cleaner on the landing, staring open-mouthed at the handsome visitor.
‘This is Detective Inspector Kandahar, Morag,’ she explained, ‘who’s come to check out Room One.’
Morag nodded wordlessly as Ally unlocked the door and ushered the detective in.
‘I’ll leave you to it then, Inspector,’ she said.
‘Thank you, and please call me Amir,’ he said.
‘In which case I’m Ally.’
He’d hardly gone through the door before the phone rang again. This time it was her daughter Carol calling from Wiltshire.
‘Mum, what on earth’s going on in that village of yours?’
Ally sighed. ‘Yes, very unfortunate.’
‘ Unfortunate ? Mum, you could be in danger. I know we’ve had this conversation before, but I really mean it! Look, we have a lovely spare room, with an en suite and everything, so why don’t you come down for a few weeks and let them all get on with it?’
‘You’re very kind, darling. But I have the remaining ladies staying here, and I’m running a business, like it or not. Anyway, I’ve got Ross with me a great deal of the time, and I feel safe with him.’
‘You could bring him down too. It’s a double bed. I shouldn’t say that, should I? Dad would probably spin in his grave!’
Ally smiled. ‘I don’t think Dad would. I think he’d most likely be pleased for me. But, Carol, double bed and en suite or not, I’m not coming. I can’t at the moment anyway, but it’s kind of you to worry about me.’
‘You’re my mum !’ Carol exclaimed. ‘Of course I worry about you. If it wasn’t for the kids, I’d be right up there.’
‘Absolutely no need,’ Ally said firmly. ‘And I think this will be solved quite quickly.’
She only hoped she was right.