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church,’ admitted Jane, charitably.

‘Except for the stained-glass windows,’ insisted Joan. ‘Ever so popular with art students they are.’

‘And it’s packed out on special days, Inspector, as you know,’ offered Sylvia.

Dennis shook his head sorrowfully. ‘The sweetest girl.’

‘Or so we thought,’ came Gordon French’s cautionary note.

‘Until …,’ said Sylvia portentously.

‘Until,’ continued Joan, ‘she tried to make off with the offertory box!’

‘And with the baker’s apprentice from up the road in Romping-in-the-Heye!’ added Sylvia.

‘And him engaged to someone else!’ finished Joan.

‘You never can tell,’ stated Dennis in summary.

‘Then,’ Gordon French returned to the mystery at hand, ‘have you considered the people in Little Madley at the Asthma Centre. They’re not Village, you know.’

‘Except for Bill,’ pointed out Sylvia, ‘bless ‘is heart.’

‘But the others aren’t. Neither, to be fair, are the Hillands, really,’ said Dennis. ‘Relative newcomers.’

‘And Ryan. And John too, for that matter,’ added Joan regretfully.

‘What do we really know about them?’ asked Sylvia.

‘About any of these people?’ reiterated Gordon French.

Joan, however, breezily dispelled the gloom with a hearty, ‘But we're sure you’ll get to the bottom of it all.’

‘Oh yes, you will, Inspector. How is Amanda bearing up under this cloud?’ enquired Joan solicitously.

‘She seems … very well,’ Trelawney replied carefully.

‘So fortunate to have you here to support her,’ remarked Dennis. ‘I’m sure it means a great deal.’

‘I’m sure Miss Cadabra is well able to cope,’ the inspector moderated.

‘Ah yes, we all agree she is quite wonderful,’ put in Dennis.

‘We’re so glad,’ added Gordon French.

‘Yes, glad you appreciate her,’ explained Joan.

Trelawney looked anxiously toward the back of the shop. ‘Ah. Right, Well, I must be getting back.’

‘Of course,’ agreed Dennis.

‘The progress of justice …’ added French.

‘Yes, as soon as Mrs Sharma returns with my lunch.’

Ding!

‘Oo, look here she is!’ cried Sylvia with delight. ‘Your Miss Cadabra!’

Amanda took in the situation at a glance and greeted her neighbours, gently removing Joan and Sylvia’s restraining arms from Trelawney’s. She smiled up at the inspector with amused sympathy.

‘Aunty!’ she called. Mrs Sharma reappeared, bearing two cheese and pickle sandwiches. As Trelawney thankfully paid, Sylvia drew Amanda’s arm though Trelawney’s and patted it.

Nalini reached below the counter and handed a bag to Amanda.

‘Your Seafood & Eat it Potted Cornish Crab. No, you’ve already given me the money, dear.’

‘Thank you, Aunty. See you all later. Let’s get the inspector back to his Situation Room.’

They exchanged farewells, and Amanda led Trelawney out into the safety of the street. As she withdrew her hand from his arm, he grinned down at her ruefully. ‘I can’t thank you enough for your daring rescue of me. They don’t let up, do they?’

‘No, as remorseless as wind and waves. But they mean well.’

‘I know. And it was interesting to hear their take on the suspect list. I’m going to ask Baker and Nikolaides to go over the background checks of everyone once more. Thank you again, Miss Cadabra.’

‘Not at all, Inspector. Is there any light at the end of the tunnel?’

‘Only in the ethereal form of hope, I am afraid.’

One good thing, however, did come out of Thomas’s unplanned visit to The Corner Shop. Thereafter, lunch mysteriously appeared each day, slipped under the display stands at 12.30. This was evidently precisely the time at which Jim, Joan’s husband, Alex and Sandy of The Big Tease, Frank of The Sinner’s Rue, Sandra of The Snout and Trough and Mrs Sharma of The Corner Shop considered he should be having a break and sustenance.

Trelawney knew the villagers well enough to recognize each of the kindly hands that prepared his daily midday meal. Anonymously imparted, they were offerings he could not and would not want to refuse. Once this was all over, resolved Thomas, he would thank them. That moment could not come soon enough for all concerned.

Chapter 29

Boiling Point

Five days later, Trelawney, Baker and Nikolaides eventually got an email response from KOMA. The Thai resort manager explained that it was not their policy to keep tabs on the guests.

‘They’re free to come and go as they please, visit the sights, and the nearest town or one further afield. I have made enquiries amongst the staff, but all we can say is that Mrs Loftleigh-Gibbs had no spa treatments booked in between the Tuesday and the Friday.’

‘Thank you for getting that much,’ Trelawney praised Nikolaides. ‘Did you check flights from Thailand to the UK?’

‘Yes sir, but her name wasn’t on any of the passenger manifests.’

‘Still, she could have taken a private plane, flown from somewhere else anonymously.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘All right. What about Gibbs?’

Baker replied to this one,

‘Sir, I went through the list I got from him of the team members who were on the company jolly with him. They all said Gibbs was with them the whole time.’

‘Hm, doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hired someone to do the job for him.’

‘Yes, sir. I’ve put some feelers out for word on any contracts that might have been on Miss Gibbs, but the street is quiet; no chatter over the wires on that one, sir.’

‘What does Mrs L-G say about where she was while at the spa?’

The constable turned down the corners of her mouth, and Baker put in,

‘Bit Nikolaides’ head off when she called up to ask, but the lady insists she was just in and out of the local town and on the beach.’

‘Can anyone corroborate that?’

‘She claims she must have been seen by a dozen locals but doesn’t know who they are. There’s a beach restaurant. Mrs L-G says she visited there a couple of times just for a snack.’

‘Thai police?’

‘Yes, very helpful, sir. The restaurant owner told them he recognised the photo of her and yes, she’d been in, but he couldn’t say which days.’

‘Well done, both of you. All right. So, she had opportunity. Possibly. But why meet her daughter in a library basement of all places? None of this makes any sense, Baker.’

‘Quite sir.’

Trelawney pondered.

In the silence, the sergeant cleared his throat tentatively. ‘Sir?’

‘Hm. Sorry. Yes, Baker?’

‘Word on the street is … we need ...’

‘Yes, Baker, I know.

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