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her older than her years.’ Lucie was swooshing water off her sleeves.

‘Dad always said start from the simple solution and work up. We’re into the very complicated.’

‘If only that was how he had conducted his personal life.’ Lucie flicked to ‘Once in Royal David’s City’; Stella hoped to goodness she wouldn’t attempt to sing it.

‘Sorry to rain on your parade, Stells, but Mrs W is steeped in motive. Northcote left her a small legacy, doubtless he told her that to get his wicked way with her. He threatened to tell her fiancé. Gladys told me Derek would have forsaken her if he’d known she wasn’t a virgin. The bounder. Northcote only had to touch his flies and she’d have to be there. During their sherry evenings Gladys understands this podcast thing Roderick’s doing will point the finger at her. Easier if you stick a knife in the back and don’t see their eyes.’

‘And Clive?’ Stella realized the abbey was silent. Joy wasn’t playing after all.

‘I’m guessing he saw her do it or Joy told him Gladys killed Northcote. Clive sounds like a weaselly old squirrel, probably saw a chance to move in on Mrs W himself. Face it, Stell, why hand over cash to Joy if she’s innocent? I’m there with Gladys. Mind, she’s the victim here. She’s also top of my suspect tree. She lied about her alibi, said she was at the Sabrina Cinema when she can’t have been since it was closed.’

‘I think that was a mistake. The police would have known the Sabrina had closed down. In her chat with you, Gladys said they were going to Evesham to see the film. I think she felt guilty, soiled. Somehow to blame. Few people would have believed her about Northcote. The only one who had seen it was Joy and she blackmailed her.’ Stella was passionate. ‘If Gladys killed Northcote she’d have been splattered with blood. Her family would have seen.’ Sticking to a hunch felt alien, but Stella felt Mrs Wren’s account of that November night fifty-six years ago was the truth. ‘Had there been no barn fire, Gladys and Derek would have watched Girl in the Headlines. No, I’m certain that after Giles and Gladys left, Northcote had another visitor.’

‘Out goes Andrea as a suspect: Roddy March stealing her story is a weak motive and, like she told you, his podcast planned to expose her grandmother’s killer. It pains me, she’s a grumpy sod, but…’ Lucie deleted Andrea from a list in her notebook. ‘And you can have Gladys Wren. We’re left with Felicity, Joy and you.’ Baring her teeth, Lucie warbled the first line of ‘Once in Royal David’s City’.

‘There were barriers.’ Stella leapt up and went over to the column near the choir. ‘Workmen had been repairing this area, and until after the night Roddy was murdered, it was closed off to the public. The barriers started from that pillar. On the south ambulatory. Although it was blocked off, I went that way to avoid Joy.’

‘Ambulatory, is that rude?’

‘Roddy March must have approached the starved monk from the north side because it was where he left his beanie.’ Stella rocked Stanley in her arms.

‘Meaning?’ Leaving a trail of drips, Lucie wandered over and joined her.

‘That Roddy would have passed the Grove organ to get to the tomb and, as she was playing at the time, Joy must have seen him. She told Janet, and us, she saw no one. Maybe she expected him after the business with the chamomile tea. Maybe they had conferred.’

‘Suppose his killer met him there and, like you, moved the barrier. You said March was chucked out fifteen minutes before everyone. He had time to be installed with the hungry monk before Joyful got going on her organ.’

‘Roddy might not have come straight to the abbey.’ Stella buried her face in Stanley’s damp fur. ‘Roddy is following a lead of his own. Something at the Death Café gave him a hint. He’s heading to their house because he knows that at that moment it’s empty. He gets a text from his killer asking to meet at the abbey. He sits for a bit, that’s when I saw his shadow on the wall, then he goes to the starved monk, via the other way. Follow me.’

Stella crept down the north ambulatory and, keeping close to the cases of second-hand books, edged past the panelling that housed the organ. There was no one there.

‘Looks like Joy bailed out after all that talk of braving the floods to play.’ Lucie snorted.

‘Stanley’s coat is wet.’ Stella was clutching Stanley.

‘Funny that.’

‘Roddy’s hair was wet, I assumed it was blood, but he was stabbed in the back. It must have been water, Roddy was caught in the rain.’

‘Does it ever stop raining here?’

‘It wasn’t raining when Roddy left the Death Café,’ Stella said. ‘Andrea muttered that it was a shame, he wouldn’t get soaked. Joy said it would be his fault if he was. Felicity said she felt bad ejecting him, but must abide by Death Café rules. Since everyone except Felicity and me appears to have disliked Roddy, him going can’t have mattered. To have got wet, Roddy must have gone somewhere before the abbey.’

‘Have you heard from Jackanory?’ Lucie suddenly said.

‘No.’ Jack was on a motorway at night. He’d be all right, he was a confident driver. He’d been sure Andrea was innocent and, with his thing about spotting True Hosts, Jack would know. Stella told herself.

‘Hang on, look.’ Lucie was pointing at a spotlight on a gantry high up above the nave. ‘The shadow of that pillar is slanting across the wall as it would have that night. If March was in that chair in front, his shadow would be there too. Stay where you are.’ Lucie went and sat in the chair. ‘Can you see my shadow from there?’

‘Yes.’

‘When Joy was cantering on her Wurlitzer, she would have seen the shadow.’

‘That means…’

‘It means we have our murderer.’

‘Beverly is stock-taking.’ Stella pulled

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