Death of a Greedy Woman by M. C. Beaton

Author:M. C. Beaton [BEATON, M. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC022000
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2011-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

Hamish Macbeth arrived in time for the first of the interviews. Blair glared at him, but Hamish quietly placed himself in a corner of the library.

Jessica Fitt was ushered in. She was, thought Hamish, only about thirty-two, but her prematurely grey hair made her look older. She had chosen clothes, consciously or unconsciously, which aged her as well. She had a vague, kind face, a thin mouth, and rather good eyes. She scratched one hip ferociously before she sat down and, once seated, proceeded to scratch her armpits in a nervous frenzy like some overwrought genteel monkey.

“Now, Miss Fitt,” said Blair in the Anglified accent he used for interviewing “the nobs,” as he called them. “Just a few questions. Mrs. Worth has given us your file, so we know your background and address in London. What we want from you to begin with is your movements yesterday evening.”

“Let me see,” said Jessica, “we all had dinner and Peta was there and then after dinner she went straight up to bed, so you must want to know about after that. Well, I sat in the lounge talking to Mr. Trumpington and then he said there was a good movie on television and so we went to the television lounge to watch it.”

“You have television sets in your rooms, don’t you?”

“Yes, but we are just friends and it would not be very correct to have a man in my room or go to his when there is a perfectly good television set downstairs.”

“What was the movie?”

“It was Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday, Channel Four.”

“So what time would that be?”

“The movie started at nine-thirty. I don’t know when it finished, but it isn’t all that long, although you have to account for time for the ads.”

“We can check it in the newspaper,” said Blair. “And then what did you do?”

“I went up to my room and went to bed. Maria has been organizing very early starts.”

“And Mr. Trumpington?”

“I think he went to bed as well,” said Jessica and scratched her knee.

“Now, Miss Fitt, can you think of anyone in the party who would want to murder Peta Gore?”

“Oh, we all thought of killing her,” said Jessica and then wriggled miserably. “Well, you know what I mean. ‘I could kill that woman,’ that kind of thing. But I cannot think of anyone who would actually have done it.”

“Do you know if Peta Gore was a wealthy woman?”

“I know that. She was very wealthy. Worth three million.”

Blair’s gaze sharpened. “And how do you know that?”

“Because she told us. She had a fax from her accountant delivered to her at the table and she announced it. Someone said something about being surprised that marital agencies could rake in that sort of money and Peta said that it was due to her late husband’s fortune and a good stockbroker.”

“That will be all for now, Miss Fitt.”

Jessica blinked at him in surprised relief and exited, scratching.

Blair looked round triumphantly. “Well, we don’t need tae look any further. She was worth three million, she doesn’t have children, her niece is here with her, so the niece did it.

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