Hemlock Bay by Martin Edwards

Author:Martin Edwards
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Rachel Savernake
ISBN: 9781035909797
Publisher: Head of Zeus

16

‘Hillman?’ Sir Harold Jackson frowned. ‘The boy who killed himself?’

Since Rachel’s host had returned from the scene of the crime, the conversation had ranged widely. By tacit consent they had steered away from the subject of murder until the main course, a magnificent chateaubriand, had been washed down with a first-rate claret. The Jacksons had waxed lyrical about the charms of Hemlock Bay and in return Rachel gave them a highly selective account of her life in London. When they asked what had brought her to the resort, she said a distant relative called Edward Hillman had recommended her to come here.

‘That’s right. It was very sad.’

‘And inexplicable,’ Sadie Jackson murmured. ‘To be so depressed that you feel you can’t go on must be awful.’

‘He obviously loved Hemlock Bay,’ Rachel said.

‘At least that is a small consolation, I suppose. Were you and he close?’

‘I’m afraid not. His death was a complete mystery. Rather like this terrible business with the fortune teller.’

‘Rotten show.’ Sir Harold put down his knife and fork. ‘The fellow was bashed over the head with his own crystal ball.’

‘I feel so sorry for the poor soul who found the body,’ Sadie said. ‘Such a horrific experience. Enough to scar anyone for life. Don’t you think so, honey?’

‘You can spare your sympathy, my dear. The person in question is a journalist. Name of Flint. A reporter with the Clarion, believe it or not.’

His wife stared at him. ‘Something to do with this Clarion Charlie campaign?’

‘Supposedly, he’s here on holiday.’

‘But why in Hemlock Bay? Surely he didn’t just stumble upon the body by chance? A fortune teller bludgeoned to death with his own crystal ball? It’s crazy, the story of a lifetime. Did he have a tip-off?’

‘Not as far as I know. However, I presume Inspector Young didn’t tell me everything.’

‘He’s in charge of the investigation?’

‘Yes.’ A sigh. ‘I know him in my capacity as chair of the bench. Not the sharpest brain, I’m afraid. He’ll find this case taxing.’

‘Is Flint a suspect?’ Sadie considered. ‘Maybe he battered Bellamy to death in a fit of rage and then covered up his crime by pretending he discovered the corpse.’

‘The police haven’t arrested him,’ Sir Harold said. ‘On the contrary, he’s thrilled to have stolen a march on his rivals in Fleet Street and he’s taking full advantage. Buzzing around like a gadfly, questioning all and sundry.’

‘Are the police allowing him to behave like this?’ his wife asked.

‘Oh, he’s got the gift of the gab. Young is eating out of his hand.’

Sadie shook her head sorrowfully. ‘The man is probably desperate to see his name in the papers.’

‘I had the bad luck to bump into Flint as I finished talking to Young. Believe it or not, the impudent young pup had the brass neck to ask for an exclusive interview.’

His wife frowned. ‘I hope you didn’t say yes.’

A pink tinge came to his cheeks. ‘I did speak to him.’

‘Harold! It’s one thing to court the press when we’re seeking a free advertisement.

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