A Season For Murder by Ann Granger

Author:Ann Granger [Granger, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mitchell, Meredith (Fictitious character), Markby, Alan (Fictitious character), Villages, Police
Publisher: New York : St. Martin's Press
Published: 1992-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

A SEASON FOR MURDER

fold of towelling robe which had earlier slipped, drawing it back over a shapely knee. The result was twice as erotic than if she had left it as it was. 'I don't, incidentally, promise to answer. But I'll listen.'

He gave her a wry grin. 'That's fair.'

She met his eye. 'Oh, I'm always fair.'

'Yes - well, we have reason to believe - ' he saw a slight smile touch her full mouth. 'What's wrong?'

'Sorry - it's the police jargon. Do go on. What have you reason to believe, Alan?'

'That Harriet had a male visitor on Christmas Day in the evening. He would seem to have left that night. I'm wondering if you would know who he was. He might be able to shed some light on the mystery of the tranquillisers.'

She rotated her topmost foot, flexing the bare toes which protruded through the mule slipper. 'No, I don't know. I'm not being obstructive. I don't, really. She had a lot of friends.'

'I see. Well, if you should find out - I'd be grateful . . . and I'll send my sergeant over to check out the waste and Miss Needham's desk, if that's all right with you.'

'Certainly.'

'I hope you're managing to arrange everything,' he said, remembering the sad duty which was hers. 'Mr Simpson being helpful?'

'Dear old Theo?' She gave a throaty chuckle. Then she pulled a face. 'Actually I'm having trouble about the funeral. I want to bury Harriet at Westerfield in the little churchyard but that's not allowed, I'm told. It all seems damn stupid and petty to me. It's been secularised or whatever. Flattened out and turfed over like a park. No more burials.'

'Oh? Oh, yes, so it has.' He reflected. 'The Markby tombs haven't been flattened. That's my family's private corner of the churchyard. It's railed off. I mean, no one has been buried there for years but the graves are still there, headstones, monuments, all the usual . . . There might be a space there and I don't see why anyone should object, especially if the family - i.e. myself - agrees. Try that tack.'

'Thanks!' The sea-green eyes glowed with genuine warmth. She followed him to the door and stood in the open frame, one hand on the doorjamb. 'I'll try it, as you say, how can they object? And as I told you, I'm fair. If someone does me a good

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