Murder in the Blood (16 page)

‘Couldn't we?' said Neal hopefully.

‘No. Both police forces would find that very suspicious. Anyway,' added Libby cruelly, ‘your two best friends out there …'

‘Are dead. I know. That's why I want to know.' Neal sighed. ‘Honestly, I feel as if it's my fault.'

‘Why on earth do you feel that? You said that while we were out there.'

‘It all happened after I got there and made friends with them.'

‘Unless it was you that killed them, I can't see the connection,' said Libby, wondering, all the same.

‘But perhaps it was something I said? You know, something I didn't realise …'

‘Like talking about something in the past that struck a chord?' Libby saw a glimmering of light.

‘Exactly! I can't think what it could be at the moment, but I could have done, couldn't I? In general conversation.'

‘Think back,' said Libby. ‘Who was there when you were in company with Alec? Was Justin always there?'

‘Ye-es,' said Neal slowly. ‘Sometimes we ate at Martha's, sometimes at The Red Bar, and there were always several people around. Justin and Alec, Sally sometimes, a couple of others who I don't remember very well.'

‘So a lot of conversations could have been overheard?'

‘Oh, yes.'

‘But if that was it, wouldn't you have been the victim? If someone thought you knew something you shouldn't?”

‘Oh.' Neal sounded miserable. ‘I suppose so. Oh, God!'

‘What?'

‘If that
is
the case, someone might be after me!'

The thought had occurred to Libby, too. ‘It's unlikely, though,' she said. ‘If all three deaths are connected, the reason is surely more likely to be out in Erzugan than here.'

‘I suppose so.' Neal sounded reluctant to agree. ‘Do you know any more about the investigation?'

‘Not really. Just that we've been questioned again by the police, as I told you.' Libby paused ‘Neal, I don't suppose Alec or Justin ever said they knew one another in this country before they went to Turkey?'

‘No.' Neal now sounded surprised. ‘That's a thought though, isn't it? I wonder …'

‘Nor Sally?'

‘I didn't talk to Sally much. She wasn't always around.'

‘Only –' Libby hesitated. ‘Only Fran and I met her mother this morning.'

‘Her
mother
?'

‘Yes. Turns out she used to live near us. We didn't know her, though.'

‘I suppose they all would have had relations here,' said Neal. ‘I just hadn't thought about it. How did you find out?'

‘It was in our local paper. It does make you wonder about Alec's long-lost mother, doesn't it?'

‘Poor woman. I don't suppose she even knows.' Neal sighed. ‘Oh, well, unless the police come knocking on my door I don't suppose I'll hear any more about it.'

‘Are you on Facebook?' asked Libby.

‘Yes, why?'

‘If you join Martha's page, and Jimmy's, we're all keeping in touch on those.'

‘Great idea. Thanks, Libby. And I'll send you a friend request, if I may.'

‘Of course,' said Libby. ‘I'll check it out later. Nice to talk to you, Neal.'

‘If only it wasn't for such an awful reason. Bye, Libby.'

And that's that, thought Libby, switching off her phone. Now we just have to wait until someone sees fit to tell us what's going on.

And then someone did.

Chapter Eighteen

‘Is that Libby Sarjeant?'

‘Yes – who's calling?' asked Libby, suspecting a cold caller of some sort.

‘Geoff Croker here – from the Istanbul Palace in Erzugan. I don't know whether you remember?'

Libby's heart gave an uncomfortable thump. ‘Yes, I remember. Why are you calling?'

‘I was wondering if you could tell me why my friends and I are being harassed by the British police.'

There was no doubt of the aggression in Geoff Croker's voice.

‘Are you? What about?'

‘Mrs Sarjeant, you and your friend were seen in the company of that commander from the Met, and we know he consulted you about the murders. So why are we all being investigated?'

Libby sighed. ‘Look, Mr Croker. Mrs Wolfe and I were being questioned because we were the people who found the first body. I have no idea why you are being investigated. The police aren't still there, are they?'

‘I'm sure you know that they are.'

‘I'd heard that it was being investigated by the Turkish police now,' said Libby disingenuously.

‘And where did you hear that?'

‘On one of the social media pages,' said Libby glibly.

‘Oh.' There was a short silence. ‘So you don't know?'

‘Look,' said Libby, suddenly exasperated. ‘How can I know what's going on over there? I'm in England, for heaven's sake, and I only went to Erzugan once, I'm not even a regular visitor.' She wondered if the Crokers knew about Justin and decided not to ask. ‘And how did you get my number, by the way?'

‘You can find anything on the internet.'

‘I didn't think my telephone number was on there,' said Libby frostily.

Croker grunted.

‘Why are you bothered about being investigated by the police anyway? Unless you've got something to hide, of course.'

‘What do you mean by that?' Croker's voice now was more shocked than aggressive.

‘What I said. They've been investigating us, too. Proper in depth police checks to see if we've got any connection to any – either – of the victims. So it stands to reason they'd investigate friends from their own home village.'

‘They weren't friends of ours.'

Libby just stopped herself in time from saying ‘So we'd heard'. ‘Well, I'm sorry I can't help you,' she said instead. ‘What are the Jandarma doing now?'

‘We've got some inspector or something from Antalya and his sidekick. He's at least up front.'

‘How do you mean?'

‘Asks us all where we were on the night in question, that sort of thing.'

‘Sensible,' said Libby. ‘Have they found out anything about the boat?'

‘The boat?' Croker snapped.

‘Yes. Whether Alec Wilson's own boat was used to take him out to sea.'

‘No idea. If you talk to the police any more, tell 'em to lay off.' And the call was abruptly ended.

‘Now that was interesting,' Libby said to Sidney, as she replaced the handset into its cradle. Sidney, sitting on the third step of the staircase, chirruped. The front door opened and Ben grinned at her.

‘What was interesting?'

‘Guess who just rang?'

‘I've no idea.' He went through the sitting room into the kitchen. ‘Are you ready for a drink?'

‘It's a bit early, isn't it? I haven't started dinner yet.'

‘Well, let's have one anyway, and you can tell me all about your day.'

Armed with a glass of red wine, Libby recounted the day's events and conversations.

‘And what's so interesting is that Croker actually bothered to track me down and call me,' she concluded. ‘Does he really think that I have any influence?'

‘It must have got around about you helping Smith search the houses,' said Ben, ‘but, yes, it is significant. I think you ought to tell Ian.'

‘Not Smith? It's his team on the ground out there.'

‘You don't really want to speak to Smith, do you? Ian can pass it on.'

‘OK.' Libby sighed. ‘Fran was going to tell him about Carol Oxford. He'll be moaning at us again.'

Ian called back in response to Libby's message just as she and Ben were sitting down to a hastily constructed meal.

‘Can you tell me all that again, please?' he said. ‘I've just got Fran's message about Cherry Ashton – and now this. Can't you keep out of it?'

‘Hey! Neither of those things were our fault. Carol phoned me out of the blue, and so did Geoff Croker. And that worried me, because he's in Erzugan, yet he tracked down my home telephone number. When I asked, he said you could find anything on the internet.'

‘There are searchable online directories, Lib.'

‘Yes, but he'd have to know where I lived, wouldn't he? And how to spell my name.'

‘Hmm. So tell me exactly what he said.'

Libby gave her plate a despairing glance. ‘Ian – I've just started my dinner.'

‘Well, carry on eating. You can talk at the same time.'

Libby sighed, and between mouthfuls once again related the whole of the day's events.

‘I think I'd better pass all this on to Smith,' said Ian when she'd finished. ‘This is coming uncomfortably close to home.'

‘I just don't see how Croker got hold of me, and why he should think I had anything to do with the investigation.' Libby swallowed a mouthful of sausage.

‘He told you that himself,' said Ian. ‘And there is obviously a reason that he and his cohorts are uncomfortable with being investigated.'

Libby was thinking. ‘You know you said Wilson was in a witness protection scheme? Well, suppose he was a criminal himself and there was a falling out of thieves?'

‘You said there was no love lost between Wilson and Croker.'

‘We've been told not, but suppose –'

‘Stop supposing, Libby. Leave it the police.'

‘OK. But what about the boat? Croker seemed interested – or nervous – when I asked about the boat.'

‘I'm sure Smith will be looking into that as well. Now go back to your dinner, and I'll see you on Wednesday.'

‘He's going to pass it on,' Libby told Ben, resuming her meal. ‘He does think it's significant, like you said.'

‘And what did he say when you suggested Wilson might have been a criminal himself?'

‘Told me to stop supposing.'

‘What were you thinking, then?'

‘Oh, I don't know, but we've already decided that most of the ex-pats are escaping from something. Suppose he's escaping from a criminal past and that's why he was flagged up on the police system, nothing to do with witness protection?'

‘It's possible,' said Ben, pushing his empty plate away. ‘And what about the boat?'

‘I find it odd that the boat hasn't been mentioned more. And it meant something to Geoff Croker, I'm sure of it.'

‘Not necessarily Wilson's boat,' said Ben. ‘It could be some other boat.'

‘Academic, anyway,' said Libby. ‘I don't know why I'm bothering about it.'

Ben laughed. ‘If you didn't, I'd be worried.'

Ian called back a little later that evening.

‘I passed the information on. Apparently, it was Smith's people who called on Sally Weston's mother at her home somewhere up north to tell her and it's the Met who are dealing with Newcombe's death, so I'm completely out of the picture. I didn't speak to Smith myself and I can't say the sergeant who dealt with me was helpful. So I'm afraid that's that, Libby.'

‘So it is.' Libby heaved a sigh. ‘I wish I knew what had really happened, but I suppose we won't, now.'

‘Don't go poking around. There's obviously something sensitive about the case, so keep out of it.'

‘All right, all right. I'll be good. Are you still coming for a drink on Wednesday?'

Ian laughed. ‘Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world.'

Libby sent a round robin email to her fellow visitors to Erzugan and Martha to tell them what had been happening, and tried to tell herself to stop thinking about the case. It didn't work.

On Tuesday morning, just as Libby was setting out to do some essential shopping in the village the landline rang.

‘Libby? It's Carol Oxford.'

‘Oh, hello,' said Libby, surprised.

‘I just thought I'd let you know I was going back to Norfolk today. I've told the police you have the key to the house and you're looking after it.'

Am I? thought Libby. Aloud, she said ‘The local police?'

‘I had the card of the sergeant who came to see me at home. I called him.'

‘Perhaps you ought to tell the local police as well,' said Libby. ‘The people who came to see you were from the Met, weren't they?'

‘No, they were from our local police in Norfolk, but I suppose they don't need to know.'

‘Tell you what, give me the name and number of the policeman you called, and then if the police here have any questions, they can call him.'

‘Right. Wait a minute …' Libby heard a scrabbling noise. ‘Here we are.' Carol read out the name and number. ‘Have you heard anything else since yesterday?'

‘No,' said Libby, ‘except that there's no reason to talk to any of us visitors again. So I won't learn anything else, I'm afraid.'

When Carol rang off, Libby tucked the piece of paper inside her purse and set off down Allhallow's Lane. When exactly she decided to go and search Sally Weston's house she couldn't quite pinpoint, but certainly by the time she reached the ‘eight- -til-late', Ahmed and Ali's mini supermarket, she'd decided.

‘I don't suppose you've got any of those thin medical gloves, have you?' she asked Ali, who had appeared to serve her.

‘Course we have.' Ali led the way to the right section. ‘Have to buy them a hundred at a time though.' He looked at her quizzically. ‘Avoiding fingerprints?'

As this was exactly what she was doing, Libby gasped. ‘Of course not!' She grabbed the box, put it in her basket and hurried off towards the tinned food section to hide her red face.

When she emerged a few minutes later, she pulled out her mobile phone and called Fran.

‘I'm going to have a look round Sally's house,' she told her. ‘Want to come?'

‘What for?' asked Fran dubiously.

‘I've just got a feeling about it.'