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Exham-on-Sea Murder Mysteries 1-3. Frances Evesham
Читать онлайн.Название Exham-on-Sea Murder Mysteries 1-3
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781800484764
Автор произведения Frances Evesham
Жанр Ужасы и Мистика
Издательство Ingram
She stretched the meal to four, adding extra salad leaves, cutting chicken breasts in half, slicing chunks from a loaf of Frank's finest rustic bread, and opening another bottle of wine.
They ate in the kitchen. Bear settled down on the sofa in Libby's sitting room, a gentle giant once more. She hadn't the heart to move him. ‘Just this once,’ she said, ‘Since you're a hero.’
The cat had disappeared, keeping away from the disturbance. Elaine, shaking with relief, refused to go to Accident and Emergency or call the police, but swallowed aspirin and let Mandy lead her upstairs to make up a bed.
‘I'll go to my sister's in Bristol, on Monday. Bert won't come back tomorrow, not while the dog's here. And not if it means losing drinking time.’
Libby stacked plates in the dishwasher, while Mandy and her mother talked upstairs.
‘Now, Max, why are you back so soon, and what did you find out?’
He insisted on making coffee, talking loudly over the grinder and frothing milk with enthusiasm. ‘Well, I heard about poor old Mrs Thomson. It looks like all the action's over here after all. What is it?’
Libby was laughing. ‘Mrs Thomson told me your name's really Maxwell.’
‘Anyway,’ he glared, ‘I was worried about you. I wasn't sure how you and Bear would get on, after that business with your car. I can see I needn't have worried.’
They moved to the sitting room, where he stretched out in an armchair. ‘That was a wonderful meal, by the way: better than a restaurant. I'm bushed. Jetlag, mostly. Wake me if I fall asleep.’
Fuzzy appeared from under the settee, stretched and sauntered over to sit on Max's knee.
Libby said, ‘The car's been fixed and Bear's looked after me. He's even made friends with Fuzzy. I'll tell you about Guy Miles and James Sutcliffe in a minute, but first, what did you find out in America?’
‘I didn't take to our friend Mickey, that's for sure. Too rich for his own good, that one, with a trophy wife, a mansion in Beverley Hills and a great opinion of himself.’
‘Did you see his house?’
Max laughed. ‘No, he graciously offered me half an hour of his time in a hotel. But I'd hired a car, so I did a little snooping around the area. You know, see how the other half live?’
‘And?’
‘I never would have thought I'd say it, but the heat was too much for me. It's good to get back to some Somerset weather.’
Libby shivered. ‘Gales and rain, you mean. I suppose, at least we don't need air conditioning. Anyway, was Mickey what we expected?’
‘Exactly so. I met his latest wife, by the way. Maybe you've seen her? She's starring in that sci-fi blockbuster that came out last month, and she was giving interviews at the same hotel. Mickey whisked me in and out of the room. I think he was trying to impress me.’
‘Hm. He was rattled?’
‘Hard to tell. Trouble is, he's got a great alibi. He spent most of Monday night at a televised award ceremony. Even with the time difference, he couldn't have attacked Susie and got back to the States in time. In any case, he hasn't really got any reason to want her dead, what with the sparkly new wife and all.’
Libby sat in silence, thinking. ‘Doesn't her money go to her ex-husband if she doesn't have a will?
Max shook his head. ‘Afraid not. I checked with an online solicitor, and even if she'd left money to her husband in a will, and hadn't cancelled it, he wouldn't get it when she died. The law treats the estate as though her husband was already dead. That cancels out any financial motive for our friend, Mickey.’
‘Hm. So, who would be entitled to her money?’
‘It depends on whether she had children, or parents, or brothers and sisters, or maybe aunts and uncles.’
‘Wow. That's complicated, and it gives any of those people a motive for murder. Oh!’
‘What is it?’
‘I didn't tell you the police think we're right – she could have been murdered.’
Max yawned. ‘That's good. We can let them chase down Susie's relatives.’
‘So, that's it? We leave it to them?’
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