A Snapshot of Murder_A Kate Shackleton Mystery by Frances Brody

Author:Frances Brody [Brody, Frances]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1643850962
Amazon: B07HM5L183
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books
Published: 2019-04-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Camper

Edward and Derek were seated on the stone bench in the courtyard. Derek was nursing a colourful woollen cloak. He raised it towards Elisa, who ignored him.

Edward stood. ‘Kate, I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you.’ He turned to Elisa. ‘Elisa, is there anything I can do to help you?’

Elisa paused and looked at him. ‘A certain account has been settled.’ She strode to the door.

Derek jumped up and followed her. ‘Elisa, excuse me, Elisa, the thing is my gran’s cloak needs washing. There is a stain.’

Elisa looked at the cloak. ‘You can’t easily wash that.’

‘The stain is only in one place.’

‘What’s the stain?’

‘Blood. We covered Mr Murchison with it.’

‘His blood?’

‘Yes.’

‘Wash it yerself.’

‘But you’ll have to tell me what to do. Is it salt you put on it? Gran will go mad with me.’

His words were lost to us as he followed Elisa into the house.

Edward sat down again.

The afternoon stillness was broken only by the sound of the bees in the kitchen garden behind us.

Edward lit a cigarette. ‘I can’t believe this has happened. I don’t understand how Toby and I could come through what we did, those four years of death and injury and mayhem, only for him to die on a sunny Saturday near a parsonage garden.’

‘It’s shocking. And poor Carine, I can’t imagine how she’s feeling.’

He lowered his head. ‘She was in the refreshment room in the Sunday school when we carried in Toby’s body. I’ll never forget the look on her face, the pain, and it was as if I wasn’t there.’

‘What happened?’

‘The police sergeant’s wife, Mrs Hudson, she’s a very motherly sort of woman, took Carine under her wing. The doctor said she should be taken somewhere to rest. He would visit her later. She’s at the police house on Mill Hey.’

‘Did anyone else go with her?’

‘I wanted to and so did Rita, but we were kept there to answer a few questions. Afterwards, Rita went to see if she could stay with Carine.’ He blew a smoke ring. ‘What about Harriet? Where is she?’

‘With my mother, at the Porters’ house in Stanbury.’

Like Carine, she was in the house of a police officer, albeit a retired one – if police officers can ever truly be said to have retired.

Each of us must be under suspicion.

A man in plus fours came into the courtyard with two children, asking, ‘Are they serving teas?’

I advised him to knock on the door.

‘Edward, where do you teach?’

‘Giggleswick School.’

‘I was there last year, to witness the eclipse. I don’t remember seeing you.’

‘I started in September.’

The question came from my lips without a plan, seeming like a guess. ‘September? That was when you began to see Carine again.’

‘She told you?’

She had not told me that they began to see each other. She told me only that she had spotted him, and watched him catch the tram. I know what I would have done in that situation. I would have run after the tram and jumped on. She must have done the same, and decided to say nothing to any of us.

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