Exham-on-Sea Murder Mysteries 4-6. Frances Evesham

Max said, ‘or Shipley.’

      Robert said, ‘I haven’t met the notorious Shipley. Didn’t he help you find the body under the lighthouse?’

      ‘He did. I used to walk him when I first arrived in Exham. Since his owners left, he lives with the vet, hoping for a new family.’

      She smiled at Sarah. ‘Any takers?’

      ‘Don’t look at us. Once we’re married, we might think about a dog, or maybe a cat. Robert’s more of a cat person. But we need to settle down, first. With all the wedding preparations, everything seems a whirl just now.’

      Libby kept an eye on Mandy. Seated opposite Reg, she’d focused her dark, kohl rimmed eyes on the American newcomer, from time to time tucking a stray lock of hair behind an ear. Maybe her gloom at Steve’s defection would be short lived. Bear lay under the table, alert in case someone dropped a titbit.

      Reg’s biceps rippled inside a beautifully cut jacket as he stretched to offer Libby a dish of carrots roasted with cardamom and honey. ‘Ma’am,’ he drawled, his voice as warm and liquid as Nat King Cole’s, ‘I can tell Max didn’t cook this up. I gather you’re a professional, and I can tell why. I haven’t had a meal like this in years. Why, those chefs in the city, dribbling little pools of sauce on inch long pieces of half cooked fish, ought to come out here for a few lessons.’ Libby blushed, tried not to simper, and offered him a second, larger helping. ‘You bet. A man my size needs a good meal.’

      Robert said, ‘Mum’s meals were famous when I was at school. I had to rotate my friends, there were so many wanting to try her apple and ginger crumble.’

      Sarah said. ‘So that’s how you got girls, in those days.’ She leaned back in her chair, with a sigh. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten quite so much roast lamb. I should have saved myself for pudding.’

      As the engaged couple shared smiles, their eyes on each other, Libby glanced at Reg, wondering at his interest in Giles Temple’s death.

      Max had insisted Libby could trust his colleague. ‘I’ve known him for years and he’s spent a long time in England. He read for a research degree at Cambridge University, something about the crossover between history and science. He likes to play up his deep south accent when he’s around women, though. They swoon.’

      Now she’d met him, Libby understood why. ‘We still meet up from time to time when I’m in the States or he’s in England.’ Max had said. ‘We’re pretty much in the same business.’

      Reg tucked into his second helping of Libby’s special roast lamb and launched into an explanation of his presence in Somerset. His story was plausible and Libby relaxed a little. She’d been anxious about Robert meeting Max and Reg. She wanted to avoid involving her son and his fiancée in any undercover work, but Reg’s task sounded straightforward. ‘The cathedral library has some unique and ancient books, donated over the centuries by what you British call 'canons' at the cathedral. Don’t you love the idea of religious men named after weapons?’ Mandy’s eyes were fixed in transparent adoration on the speaker. Max winked at Libby.

      Reg continued, ‘Why, there was a book there, from the sixteenth century, that used to belong to your Thomas Cranmer―you know, Archbishop of Canterbury when Henry VIII was king? There are notes he wrote himself. How about that?’

      Max said, ‘The question everyone will ask, Reg, is whether you were in the library on the night of the murder?’ There was a pause, and the air grew tense, as though everyone around the table realised the implication of the question. Was Reg a suspect? Even Robert’s gaze shifted to the American.

      Reg sighed. ‘You always were a straight talker, my friend. No, I was travelling down from my temporary office in Bristol and staying at the Swan, sampling your local brew; Butcombe Gold, I seem to recall. I think the bar staff at the hotel will back me up.’

      Everyone relaxed a fraction. Reg looked from one face to another. ‘Here’s something you may be interested in.’ He addressed Libby. ‘I can tell you about the book it seems Giles Temple was reading. The police mentioned it to me, wanting to know if I’d looked at it.’

      ‘What was it?’ Mandy asked.

      ‘A travel guide, full of maps of the world. At least, the world they knew in the seventeenth century. Not the most precious book in the collection, but still worth a pretty penny.’

      Libby’s mind raced. ‘How do you know that’s the book he was reading?’

      Max said, ‘It’s a best guess, according to Joe Ramshore, but the police can’t be sure. Giles Temple wore white gloves in the library to avoid acid from his fingers damaging some of the books, so there are no recent fingerprints, but the spine of this one stuck out a bit from the others, as though someone in a hurry had shoved it back on the shelf. That attracted the police officer’s attention.’

      ‘The murderer left the book behind? Isn’t that odd?’ Libby was thinking aloud. ‘Why did he shove it back so carelessly? Didn’t that just draw attention to it?’

      Her voice trailed away as Robert queried, ‘Why do you keep saying “him” for the murderer? Are you sure it was a man?’

      Max nodded. ‘Good question. Joe thinks it’s likely. The victim was strangled with a chain, so the murderer was strong. It would take plenty of force to keep the pressure on the chain with the victim fighting for his life.’ Libby winced. ‘But I guess a fit woman could manage, if she took him by surprise.’

      He added, ‘There’s something else. Chains, like the one used to strangle Mr Temple, are attached to the shelves in the library with forged steel bolts. The murderer must have brought along some hefty bolt cutters.’

      ‘Which means,’ Robert interrupted, excited, ‘he had a plan. He came prepared to kill Giles Temple that night.’

      14

      Ghosts

      Robert and Sarah left, arms entwined, taking a taxi to Sarah’s parents’ home. They were still chattering about the murder.

      A lump formed in Libby’s throat as she stood with Max in the doorway, watching. It seemed that only yesterday Robert had been a little boy, holding Libby’s hand as they walked to the park.

      She leaned on Max’s shoulder. ‘They’re almost as excited about the mystery as their wedding. Still, it’s very strange to see your son with another woman. Sarah will come first in his life, from now on.’

      He slipped an arm round her shoulders. ‘That’s how it should be. You must be proud of Robert. He does you credit.’

      ‘I am. I used to think he was dull until Sarah brought him out of his shell. Funny, how wrong you can be about your own children. I suppose it was the contrast with Ali – she was the enthusiast, always dreaming up new projects. I never knew what she was going to do next. I shouldn’t have been surprised when she left university so abruptly and dashed off to South America. At least, judging by her emails, she’s forgiven me for disapproving.’

      Max sounded rueful. ‘It’s so hard to get it right when you have children. I made every mistake possible with mine. If I’d known my daughter would have that riding accident and die so young, I’d have spent every moment with her, instead of working away from home so often.’

      Libby said, ‘We can’t change our natures. Look at you, still working when you could be happily retired on your banking pension.’

      ‘But what would I do all day? At least Joe and I are talking again. I wish he’d been here tonight, to meet Robert. Still, there’ll be time for that. He’s pleased about you and me, you know. It’s almost enough to make him forgive me for the past.’

      Libby leaned against Max. ‘I’m pleased, too.’

      ‘But not enough for marriage?’

      ‘Not quite yet. Give me time. Let’s go back and see how the other pair are doing.’