be.’ Libby hid a smile. She’d heard that expression years ago, about an unmarried woman with a child.
‘Oh, yes.’ Mrs Marchant was getting into her stride. ‘Shacked up with a man from the railway, she was. He ran off with a foreign dancer and left the country. I’ll give her credit; Ruby made a good job of bringing up her son alone. Then she met her husband. Weak as water, Walter Harris, taking on another man’s child.’
She sniffed. ‘Of course, she wants me visiting her. She asked at Christmas, you know. Wanting to show off that enormous television, I suppose.’
Libby abandoned the subject of neighbours. ‘Talking of television,’ she ventured. ‘Maybe your Terence could buy a new one.’
Mrs Marchant emitted a noise somewhere between a cough and a grunt. ‘Not he.’
Libby wasn’t giving up, yet, although it was hard to help this awkward old lady. She had an idea. ‘The Cats Protection League. They collect strays. Why not get in touch with them? They’d help you check the microchips and you wouldn’t have to pay.’ Perhaps the League would find better homes for some of those cats.
She’d at last hit on something of which Mrs Marchant approved. ‘I can't bear to think of those poor homeless animals. Someone must save them, but I sometimes wish I had help. It’s cold and dark in the winter. A few nights ago, I had the fright of my life. I was on the green by the cathedral, heading for Vicar’s Close. I like walking down there. Sometimes, you hear children from the school practising their music, you know.’
Libby often walked Bear along the medieval cobbles of the Close. She understood its attraction. Mrs Marchant talked on. ‘A man and a woman were whispering. When I came near, they hid under the archway. I thought they might jump out and rob me so I hurried past as fast as I could.’ She tutted, loudly. ‘All these people begging, that’s the trouble these days.’
‘What night was that?’
‘I remember it well, because the next day I heard about that dreadful murder. Imagine. I was near the cathedral at the same time as the killer. I said to myself, “Vivian, that could have been you.” Made me shiver to think of it.’
‘Have you told the police? Given descriptions?’
‘They haven’t bothered to ask. No one takes any notice of me, these days.’ Mrs Marchant was on her high horse again. The mood changes were unpredictable and disconcerting.
‘The police don’t know you were there,’ Libby pointed out.
The woman shrugged. ‘If you like I’ll tell you about them and you can pass it on.’
Libby took that as a compliment. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, one was big and fat and the other tall and thin. I couldn't see what they were wearing because it was dark.’
The descriptions were disappointing. Libby tried another question. ‘You said they were whispering. Did you catch what they said?’
‘Not really. The tall, thin one wore a hoodie. I remember that. It muffled the words, you see.’
Libby suspected Mrs Marchant’s hearing might be failing, but pride would prevent the woman admitting it. ‘You’re sure it was a man?’
‘Oh, yes, definitely.’ The old lady paused. ‘I’m not sure about the fat one. Could have been male or female. They all dress the same, these days.’ She held a finger in the air. ‘Now, wait. I remember they had a bag. The thin one handed it over to the other before they split up. The thin one went along Vicar’s Close and the fat one crossed over the road towards the cathedral.’
‘Really?’ Two people behaving suspiciously in the dark, on the night Giles Temple was murdered. Libby could hardly speak for excitement. What a good thing she’d taken on the job of finding the missing cat.
Unfortunately, despite Libby’s efforts to help her remember, Mrs Marchant was unable to add more detail. Taking a different approach, Libby tried to persuade her to tell Joe about the two mysterious figures. In the end, she turned to bribery. ‘While you speak to the police officer, I’ll see if I can find a new television for you.’
‘One with a bit of sound. Everyone mutters, these days.’
21
Lunch
‘I’m not invited to the Dean’s lunch?’ Max lay in an armchair, feet on Libby’s coffee table.
‘Members of the Knitters' Guild only, I'm afraid. Unless you bring proof of your knitting ability, I'm afraid you’re excluded.’
‘Just as well, I suppose. But I'm offended that Bear’s invited while I’m not.’
‘Bear is much fluffier and cuddlier.’
Max stretched out a foot to trip Libby and she fell into his lap. ‘Don't mess my hair. I must look respectable for the Dean.’ She preened. She’d chosen her favourite bright jade silk blouse and skin-tight embroidered trousers. ‘Not too dressy for lunch, is it?’
‘You look beautiful. I’m jealous.’
Libby snorted. ‘Don't forget, his wife will be there. I’m not convinced the so-called special invitation came from her, though. She seemed hostile when I called at the house. Still, I can’t refuse. She’s near the top of my list of suspects, though I’m hoping Mrs Marchant’s suspicious lurkers are a better bet. I wonder what they were up to in the dark, that night.’
‘Probably drug dealers.’
‘You could be right. Anyway, I rang Joe, and he promised to pay a visit to Mrs Marchant, and not send one of the team.’ She laughed. ‘Meanwhile, I have to find a TV for the old lady. Somehow, I found myself promising I would.’
‘Typical. Making work for yourself.’
‘Maybe, but I mean to persuade her son to contribute. I think it’s time he gave her a helping hand, don’t you? I’ll see if I can track him down. But, in the meantime, I’m off to the Dean’s lunch party. It’s a wonderful opportunity to snoop.’
She glanced at her watch and struggled away. ‘Look at the time. I need to go. It won't do to be late and I agreed to take Angela.’
It felt strange, leaving Max alone in the little cottage. He’d stayed there before, and one day he even cleaned the bathroom. Libby almost died of shock. Her husband had never lifted a duster. Since the gargoyle affair, Max had spent every spare moment in the cottage and Libby, to her surprise, enjoyed his constant presence.
At the Dean’s imposing property, Amelia played the gracious hostess, more glamorous than ever in a multi-coloured silk blouse and blue harem pants. She stretched out a hand. ‘Thank you so much for coming,’ she said. ‘I was in a rush, that day you brought Ruby’s plant. I didn't have time to chat. I hope I wasn’t rude.’
Libby stitched a smile on her face and lied. ‘Of course not. And thank you for inviting Bear today. He’s very honoured and on his best behaviour. So far.’ Amelia pat ted Bear. Maybe she really had insisted he attend. She certainly looked pleased to see him.
The ladies
