Murder and the Glovemaker’s Son by Lesley Cookman

Author:Lesley Cookman [Cookman, Lesley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Goodreads: 40229845
Publisher: Accent Press
Published: 2018-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

‘You know what we’ve never gone into,’ said Ben on the phone to Libby on Thursday morning, ‘why Nathan Vine’s number and address was in Dad’s book.’

‘So we haven’t. Has Ian?’

‘He hasn’t said so.’

‘We did try the number, didn’t we?’

‘No, we looked up the address. We didn’t try the number, but I doubt if that’s still in use. Certainly not by Vine.’

‘In that case, we ought to investigate,’ said Libby. ‘How do we go about it?’

‘We ought to leave it to Ian.’

‘No, he’s probably got too much to do,’ said Libby. ‘Especially now with Gideon Law’s death as well.’

‘That’s your excuse for being nosy.’

‘You mentioned it first.’

‘All right.’ Libby could hear the smile in Ben’s voice. ‘You and Fran have a go.’

Libby sat for a while thinking before ringing Fran.

‘So how do we do it?’ she asked, after bringing Fran up to date on last night’s meeting with Ian and Ben’s new idea.

‘If Hetty doesn’t know, I can’t think.’ Fran was silent for a moment. ‘Unless there are any old friends of Greg’s in the village who might know?’

‘No one’s come forward saying they know anything about the house,’ said Libby.

‘No one’s asked, though, have they?’

‘No, and it hasn’t been made much of that it was the house that Shakespeare visited,’ said Libby. ‘What about the old biddies’ network?’

‘I wish you wouldn’t call them that,’ said Fran.

‘It’s what Flo and Hetty call them. And – oh! I just remembered! Hetty said ask Flo, memory like an elephant. And Ben was going to ask Pete. I don’t think he ever did.’

‘Right, that’s where you start,’ said Fran.

‘Aren’t you coming?’

‘I’m in charge of the shop today. Guy, believe it or not, is actually painting. Keep me posted.’

Libby sat thinking some more after Fran had rung off. The “old biddies” were, in fact, led by Flo Carpenter, Hetty’s best friend, and included Hetty herself, plus two village ladies, Dolly Webley from New Barton Lane and Una Brent from Steeple Lane. Edie, the mother of a friend from out of the village, Lewis Osbourne-Walker, often joined them. Edie, a comparative newcomer, wouldn’t be able to tell her anything, but the other three might. Even, thought Libby, Joe and Nella up at Cattlegreen Nurseries might know. He seemed to know about all the old houses in the area. She decided to start there.

As by now it was almost lunchtime, she decided to drive up to the Nurseries, where the ‘boy’, Owen, would be sure to offer her something. In winter it was always hot chocolate, which it might be today, but that was always comforting, and it wasn’t the warmest of summer days.

As she drove into the yard, it was Owen who came to meet her with a wide smile.

‘Hello, Libby!’ He held her door open for her. ‘You come to see Dad?’

‘Yes, actually, Owen,’ said Libby, a little disconcerted. ‘Is he in the shop?’

‘Yes. Come on. I’ll go and make your chocolate.’

Libby followed him, grinning.

‘So what is it this time, then, young Libby?’ Joe, a large and comfortable countryman, perched on the edge of his counter.

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