Murder in the Dark - A Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery (Libby Sarjeant Murder Mystery Series) Read Online Free PDF

officer. Now, come on, have you got room to turn that beast round? If you drove up here from Steeple Cross it can’t have been pleasant.’
    ‘It wasn’t. It feels like the back of beyond here, as though no one ever comes near. And it was foggy.’
    ‘It’s cleared a bit now,’ said DC Robertson. ‘And most of the locals use the other end of the lane from Keeper’s Cob.’
    ‘So Adelaide told me.’ Libby unlocked the car door and climbed in. ‘Am I just to follow you? You’re not going to tell me anything else?’
    ‘Not tonight, I’m not, but I expect we shall have to talk to Adam again now.’
    ‘Now you know who it is, you mean?’
    ‘I didn’t say that,’ said Ian. ‘I’ll probably speak to you tomorrow.’
    Libby followed the reassuring lights of the unmarked police car down Dark Lane. They led her back to the Canterbury road and, with a wave, sped off.
    Ben was waiting with a sustainingly large whisky.
    ‘I don’t know why you say yes to these things,’ he said, sitting opposite her after throwing a log on the fire.
    Libby sighed. ‘Neither do I.’
    ‘Sheer nosiness, probably.’ Ben grinned at her.
    ‘Probably. And I’m a bit worried about Ad.’
    ‘Why? He didn’t do it.’
    ‘But they’ll keep after him as one of the people who knew about the house and the grotto and the fact that the owners weren’t there.’
    ‘They’ll keep after Mog and the caretaker, too. And – I’ve just thought of this – Lewis, too.’
    ‘Lewis?’
    ‘He knew. He sent Adam and Mog there, and he’s worked on the house.’
    ‘Oh, bother, I told Ian about that.’
    ‘Oh, I expect they’d have worked it out for themselves,’ said Ben. ‘So tell me what exactly happened.’
    When Libby had finished recounting the details of her evening, Ben looked thoughtful.
    ‘Funny how both the Watsons knew the doctor yet not the wife.’
    ‘It sounds as though she might be a typical Asian woman who doesn’t go out except in a burkha,’ said Libby.
    ‘That’s a terrible generalisation. And if she was one of those women, why is she married to a white Englishman?’
    ‘We don’t know that’s what he is. Carl isn’t a very English name.’
    ‘But Oxenford is.’
    ‘Hmm.’ Libby stared into the fire. ‘It’s a real puzzle.’
    ‘You’re used to puzzles. Come on, finish that whisky and let’s get to bed. It’s gone midnight.’
    Libby was woken the following morning by Ben with a mug of tea.
    ‘Fran phoned,’ he said. ‘I managed to pick it up before it woke you.’
    ‘What’s the matter? This time in the morning?’
    ‘I think she’s had one of her “moments”,’ said Ben, ‘but she wouldn’t tell me.’
    Libby struggled to sit up and took her tea.
    ‘I’ll call her in a minute,’ she said. ‘Did she say it was urgent?’
    ‘No, because when I said I’d wake you she said it wasn’t.’
    ‘Right. I’ll come downstairs.’
    ‘Finish your tea first,’ said Ben. ‘It’s only a quarter to eight.’
    Ten minutes later, leaning against the Rayburn and watching Ben eat toast, Libby called her best friend, Fran Wolfe.
    ‘Bit early, isn’t it?’ she began.
    ‘Sorry, Lib, but I woke up with this – this sort of picture in my head.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘It was like a ruin. And it was dark. But I was staring up at the sky, or what I could see of it, and I couldn’t move or call out. Any ideas?’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ said Libby heavily. ‘I’d better tell you about it.’
    ‘I’ll come over,’ said Fran. ‘Make a big bowl of soup.’
    ‘She didn’t even ask what it was,’ said Libby as she switched off the phone.
    ‘Of course she didn’t,’ said Ben. ‘She phoned here because whatever it was she saw or felt connected somehow to you. So now she knows you’ve more to tell her than a simple telephone call would take.’
    ‘OK.’ Libby pushed herself away from the Rayburn. ‘I’ll go and have a shower.’
    By the time Fran arrived just after ten o’clock, Libby had