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

chopped piles of vegetables for soup and had a new recipe for quick bread ready to go in the oven.
    ‘Coffee?’ she asked. ‘Too early for lunch.’
    When they were both seated by the fire in the sitting room, with Sidney the silver tabby sitting bolt upright on the hearthrug between them, staring into the flames, Libby began her story.
    Fran let her go on to the end without interruption, although her eyes widened when Libby mentioned the grotto.
    ‘So Adam’s a suspect?’ said Fran slowly, when Libby had finished.
    ‘Well, not really, but they have to look into him.’
    ‘Ridiculous.’ Fran shook her head. ‘Whoever it was planned this. If Adam ever hurt anybody it would be on the spur of the moment in self-defence.’
    ‘How do you know it was planned?’
    Fran looked surprised. ‘I’m not sure. It just was. I don’t know how I knew that any more than I know why I had the dream. Although I suspect that was because you and Ad have a close connection with it. Why haven’t you told me before?’
    It was Libby’s turn to look surprised. ‘Do you know, I have no idea. Normally I’d have told you immediately.’
    ‘There was probably a reason.’ Fran looked mysterious.
    ‘A psychic one?’
    ‘Probably.’ Fran looked up and smiled. ‘Anyway, now we need to know what the dream was about.’
    ‘The body, of course,’ said Libby. ‘Only you dreamed it was you.’
    ‘It doesn’t help, though. After all, you know that the body was found in the grotto with its throat cut.’
    ‘Yes. And Ian says it was probably put there the night before.’
    ‘Probably?’
    ‘Well, I can’t see someone carrying it in there in broad daylight.’
    ‘What about time of death?’
    ‘I don’t know. Late Sunday night or early hours of Monday morning, I suppose. That’s not the sort of thing Ian would tell me, but those seem to be the times the police are concentrating on for the alibis.’
    Fran frowned. ‘Was she killed where she was found?’
    Now Libby really looked bewildered. ‘I’ve no idea! Why?’
    ‘Just wondering …’ Fran stared pensively into the fire.
    ‘But what about?’
    ‘About her. The victim. Why didn’t I feel that darkness – you know? The suffocation.’
    ‘Because she wasn’t suffocated, I suppose.’
    ‘Mmm,’ said Fran doubtfully.
    ‘Oh, let’s forget it for now.’ Libby stood up. ‘I’ll go and start lunch.’
    ‘It’s much too early for lunch.’
    ‘Yes, but the bread’s got to bake and the longer the soup’s on the better it will be.’
    Fran followed her into the kitchen.
    ‘How’s the panto going?’ she asked.
    ‘Oh, same old, same old. We have a new principal boy, Olivia, who read Drama and English at Kent uni. She’s not bad. How’s life down beside the seaside?’
    Fran lived with her husband Guy in Coastguard Cottage on Harbour Street in Nethergate. Guy’s art gallery-cum-shop was a few doors along, over which was a flat in which his daughter Sophie occasionally stayed.
    ‘Oh, much the same. Did I tell you Chrissie’s latest plan?’
    Chrissie was one of Fran’s daughters, married to the rather stuffy Bruce.
    ‘Go on, what’s she up to now?’
    ‘She wants to move them all to France.’
    ‘France? What for?’
    ‘Because baby Montana will learn to be bi-lingual and they can start a vineyard. Start , mind.’
    Libby exploded with laughter. ‘From scratch? Can you just imagine! And what does Brucie-baby have to say about this?’
    ‘This hasn’t so far been revealed. I can’t help feeling sorry for him.’
    ‘I know what you mean.’ Libby added stock to the softened vegetables in the pan. ‘Now, do you want another coffee?’
    ‘Are you going to have to get more involved with this?’ asked Fran, when they had returned to sit by the fire.
    ‘You mean the Dark House business? I will if they continue to suspect Adam.’
    ‘Of course they won’t,’ said Fran. ‘But they might make it uncomfortable for him.’
    ‘And for Mog. And for that