Death on Lindisfarne by Fay Sampson

Author:Fay Sampson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Lion Hudson
Published: 2013-09-25T04:00:00+00:00

“You might as well eat your lunch here. I got in food for eleven.”

Mrs Batley’s invitation to the detectives was not exactly gracious, but she managed a smile. Sue had grabbed a sandwich before setting off to fetch James from hospital the moment the causeway opened.

Lucy could have wished the police officers had eaten somewhere else. It was hard enough to restore anything like an air of normality, to give those remaining at least a semblance of the holiday they had paid for. Valerie and Aidan had proved understanding, but it would not have surprised Lucy if the Cavendishes took off as soon as they could. She wondered if she should offer them a refund, to make it easier for them to go.

No, darn it, she thought, suddenly belligerent. It’s not my fault. I didn’t plan any of this: Rachel’s death, Sue and James having whatever row it was that ended with a dent in James’s head.

Detective Inspector Harland was saying something to her over the quiche and salad. “We’ll wait for this young man – Mr Denholme? – to get back. Then we’ll hear his side of the story. Miss English seems pretty clear. They had an argument and she walked away from the castle, leaving him OK. As likely as not, he was upset and didn’t watch where he was putting his feet. Stone’s treacherous stuff when it’s wet. I don’t see how it could have anything to do with Miss Ince’s death.”

“Then that’s it?” Lucy wasn’t sure whether her immediate reaction was relief or surprise. “You won’t want the rest of us again?”

“My dear young lady… My dear Reverend lady,” he gave her a patronizing smile, “it’s a tragic affair, but I think we’ve taken enough of your time. It’s not for me to pre-empt the coroner, but I’d be very surprised if she didn’t come up with an open verdict: accident or suicide. I think we can be confident there are no indications of foul play.”

He tucked into Mrs Batley’s lunch with gusto.

Lucy was aware of Aidan watching her and the inspector intently.

She felt an air of desperation as she put her question. “Did you talk to the coastguard this morning?”

The inspector’s thick eyebrows rose. “I am not obliged to give you the details of a police investigation.”

Everyone around the table was listening now. The implications of what she was thinking could affect any one of them.

“The tides,” she said, hearing how lame it must sound. “Where could she commit suicide? How did her body get on that particular beach?”

The detective sergeant’s head shot up, but her inspector’s face did not change.

“Death by drowning is hardly an uncommon method of suicide. Especially by young women.”

If the coastguard had told him what he had said to Aidan, then the knowledge of the Holy Island currents had left the inspector unmoved.

“So? That’s it? We’ve got the green light for Bamburgh Castle?” Elspeth had been listening with undisguised curiosity.

“We have your statements. I see no reason why you shouldn’t resume your planned programme.

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