Death Comes to Bishops Well: The Shires Mysteries 1: A totally gripping cosy mystery by Legat Anna

Death Comes to Bishops Well: The Shires Mysteries 1: A totally gripping cosy mystery by Legat Anna

Author:Legat, Anna [Legat, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2021-08-26T00:00:00+00:00


The footage – like all CCTV footage – was fuzzy and unclear. The woman appeared of average height and medium build, most likely in her late forties or early fifties judging by the style of her clothes and how she moved. She had shoulder-length wavy blonde hair, but that meant nothing as it could have been a wig. Most of the footage featured the top of her head and her back since the camera was mounted on the ceiling. She paid cash. Another camera caught her again outside the shop, but she soon blended in with the crowd and disappeared from sight.

‘It could be anyone,’ I said.

‘But it’s a start. They will find her sooner or later. They’ve got cameras at every street corner nowadays.’

‘Let’s hope they do.’ I agreed.

‘A top-up?’ He was holding the bottle of port.

I gave him my glass to refill.

‘Do you think what I think?’ I said.

‘And what are you thinking, Maggie?’ He arched his left eyebrow in an expression of amusement.

‘I think that woman is someone we know very well. She is heavily made-up, a wig, all that. She could be me, or Vera, or Mary, or Penny for that matter. I mean, take Penny. She stands to benefit the most from Richard’s death. She inherited a fortune, her book will sell like hot cakes, and . . . what do you think?’ I was hoping the port had loosened his tongue and he would at last start talking.

‘I really don’t think her appearance could’ve been altered beyond recognition. Don’t forget, the mystery woman was at an international airport, her passport photo would’ve been scrutinised by an Immigration Officer.’

‘She might have been travelling on false papers or she could’ve put on her disguise after that, in the toilet, or somewhere quiet.’ I argued, pretty lucidly, if I say so myself. Then another thought occurred to me. I shared it with Samuel, ‘That CCTV footage was from Paris, but she must’ve arrived in the UK, to give the wine to Richard. He didn’t go abroad, so she came here. Would she have come via Heathrow, or Bristol, or maybe even by Eurostar? The cops need look for her in all of those places, you know.’

Samuel gazed at me, clearly inspired. He said, ‘You may have something there, Maggie! I seem to remember that Richard was seeing someone in Bristol – an old friend, he said, a blast from the past . . .’

I endured Samuel’s babbling out of politeness and because I was basking in him admitting that I was on to something.

‘That was the same day that Dotty arrived from the States – two weeks before the party. Frank and I assumed that he was talking about Dotty and that he’d got the times and the airports muddled up. But what if he didn’t? What if it was a different woman altogether – a different blast from a different past?’

He wasn’t off on a tangent, after all, I concluded, and started listening even though I wasn’t entirely happy that Penny seemed to be slipping through my net.



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