Murder in the Green Read Online Free PDF Page A

deliberately not looking towards Tyne Chapel, which at one time had been the scene of not only an illegal Black Mass but a murder. Vaguely, she wondered if Black Masses and covens had anything to do with the mythology surrounding the celebrations Morris sides took so seriously. Beltane and Samhain were certainly connected with witches, weren’t they? She resolved to ask Gemma when she saw her on Saturday.
    Obeying goodness knows what perverse prompting from her subconscious, Libby turned left instead of going straight on when she reached Steeple Martin and drove slowly up the sunken lane to Steeple Farm. Two small vans and a pile of timber were all that indicated the presence of workmen, so Libby parked the car and went round to the back of the house.
    The kitchen door was open and through it Libby could hear Radio 2 quietly chuntering away.
    ‘Lib!’
    Libby swung round to face Ben, who had come up silently behind her.
    ‘Hi,’ she said weakly.
    ‘This is a nice surprise.’ He beamed at her and tucked a hand under her arm. ‘Come and see what they’ve been doing.’
    A tour of the house revealed much bare plaster work and open studwork and Libby felt her enthusiasm being very slightly rekindled.
    ‘Coming on, isn’t it?’ said Ben, as they finished up in the empty kitchen. ‘Look, they’ve just put a marble shelf in the larder.’ He pulled open the planked door.
    ‘Wow.’ Libby put her head inside. ‘I –’ she stopped herself saying “I’ve always wanted one of those.” ‘– I think it’s fantastic,’ she finished.
    ‘I remember you saying you always wanted a larder,’ said Ben. ‘How do you feel about it now?’
    ‘The house?’
    ‘Of course the house.’
    ‘It’s going to be beautiful,’ said Libby honestly. ‘It really is. What a pity Millie changed it so much.’
    Ben looked at her for a long moment. ‘But you’re still not convinced.’
    Libby felt the colour creeping up again. ‘I – er – I just need some time.’
    ‘Mm.’ Ben went to the back door. ‘OK. Do you want to see any more, or shall I see you later?’
    ‘I’ll see you later,’ said Libby, feeling absurdly guilty.
    She took a last look at the paddock, imagining it with a couple of ponies resting under the trees at the end, frowned and went back to the car.
    The answerphone light was winking when she got home.
    ‘Lib, it’s Fran. Can you give me a ring back?’
    ‘Libby it’s Jane. I found something out about that Green Man murder. Thought you’d like to know.’
    Libby stared at the phone. Life wasn’t giving her much of a chance to think about her personal problems.
    ‘I just thought I’d look up everything we had on the Green Man murder,’ said Jane, when Libby rang her. ‘Apparently they looked into that bloke’s disappearance more thoroughly than I thought.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘The police talked to his ex-wife and all his close friends, but no one could say whether anything was missing from his house. His wallet and keys were gone, but not his passport, and nothing’s been heard from him since.’
    ‘Dead?’ asked Libby. ‘Is that what they think?’
    ‘According to my sources,’ said Jane, with a faint air of triumph, ‘they think he’s the murderer.’
    ‘Well, obviously,’ said Libby. ‘Sorry, Jane, but if they’ve gone to a lot of trouble and the conclusions are what you’ve just told me, it stands to reason.’
    ‘But that has never been released. He’s still listed as missing.’
    ‘And everyone concerned will have thought the same as the police, I bet,’ said Libby. ‘I wonder why Gemma didn’t say anything.’
    ‘Perhaps the people involved don’t think it’s connected?’ suggested Jane.
    ‘Or don’t want to,’ Libby mused. ‘Perhaps that’s it. Perhaps Gemma wants me to come up with an alternative theory. Well, thanks Jane. I’ll keep you posted.’
    ‘You are coming to my hen night, aren’t you?’ said Jane hurriedly as Libby was about to ring off.
    Libby’s