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Murder In Bloom Part 3

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'I said, I am.'

'Oh, well,' said Libby with a sigh. 'Just thought I'd tell you, and that Ad's here for supper. I had to pick him up today.'

'Had to?'

'He had no transport.' Libby frowned again. 'Ask him if you don't believe me. What's up with you?'

'Nothing.' There was a pause. 'I'll see you later if you're still expecting me?'



'Of course,' Libby's voice rose in surprise. 'Come when you like.'

Ben's voice softened. 'About six, then,' he said.

Libby was still frowning when Adam came downstairs in a clean T-s.h.i.+rt and jeans.

'What's up, Ma?' he took his mug of tea and sat down at the kitchen table.

Libby sat opposite him. 'I think you'd better tell me about your body now, and then not mention it when Ben comes round.'

'Aha!' Adam laughed. 'Getting s.h.i.+rty about the detective business, is he?'

'Suspicious, anyway,' said Libby, with an unwilling smile, 'so please tell him it was your idea that I picked you up.'

''Course I will.' Adam took a mouthful of tea and reached round for the biscuit tin on the dresser. 'And now I'll tell you all about our body.'

'Go on, then,' said Libby, and settled back in her chair.

'Well, apparently, they found about seventy per cent of the skeleton, and the scientist bloke '

'Pathologist?'

'That'll be the one. He thought the body was only a few years old, not ancient, like we thought at first. So they did some tests, and he's right. They're doing more, but it looks like murder.'

'And not very old?'

'Well, not brand new, but only perhaps three or four years old. They've found some bits of stuff that might help identify him '

'It's definitely a him, then?'

'Oh, yeah, didn't I say? Yes, a him. So Big Bertha comes along and interviews us all about how long we've known the place, and how long Lewis has been here. Daft, isn't it? As if we'd dig up someone we buried, or Lewis would ask us to do it.'

'Yes, but she's got to ask,' said Libby. 'She's the SIO is she, then?'

'SIO?'

'Senior Investigating Officer.'

'Like that Inspector who fancies Fran?'

'No, Ian Connell is only an Inspector, and he works under an SIO who directs operations from the office. Chief Inspector Murray is often SIO.'

'That's the bloke who did Paula's murder, isn't it?'

'Nicely put,' said Libby. 'He was in charge of the investigation, yes. But a superintendent that means it's a bit higher profile. Because of Lewis, do you think?'

'Don't know,' said Adam with a shrug. 'Maybe.'

'I'd wondered if it was really old, from when it was occupied during the war.'

'Didn't know it was.'

'Guy told me. Oh and I meant to tell you Guy and Fran are getting married.'

'Wicked!' Adam laughed. 'That's one in the eye for old Ben, then, isn't it?'

Libby went cold. 'What do you mean?'

'You've been refusing him all this time. He's not going to take kindly to this, is he? You've been together longer than Fran and Guy.'

'Ah.' Libby understood. So that was why Ben hadn't sounded like himself. This was going to take careful handling.

It wasn't until after supper that either the body or Fran and Guy were mentioned. Ben and Adam discussed ground management, to Libby's amus.e.m.e.nt, followed by the difficulty of getting a job and, finally, sailing.

'Who was this Basil, then?' asked Adam.

'I went to school with him back in the dark ages,' said Ben, leaning back in his chair and twirling his wine gla.s.s.

'Where is he now?'

Ben raised his eyebrows. 'Why? Fancy a sail?'

'Well, yeah,' said Adam, with a grin, 'but I just wondered if he might know anything about Creekmarsh before Lewis bought it.'

'I expect the police will have done all that,' said Libby.

'Just wondered,' said Adam. 'Like you do.'

Libby s.h.i.+fted in her chair. 'Not this time,' she said, deliberately not looking at Ben.

'Bas is still around, actually,' said Ben, ignoring this exchange, 'but I haven't seen him for ages. Not since he came back to the area, in fact.'

'What about his dad? He still alive?'

'No idea. I would have said no, but both my parents are still alive, so perhaps he is.'

'Why, anyway, Ad?' asked Libby. 'He wouldn't know anything about this body.'

A small silence descended as all three realised that they were actually discussing the murder despite Ben's reluctance. He sighed.

'Sorry, Ben,' said Adam. 'But honestly, Ma hasn't tried to find out anything. I'm interested perhaps it's in the genes but it was Lewis who told me to tell her all about it.'

'Why?'

'Because when we found the skeleton I told him about her murders.'

Libby winced.

'And did you also tell him how much trouble she got into?'

Adam looked at Libby in apology. 'No,' he said.

'That's why I don't want to know about this one,' said Libby firmly, 'unless it affects Lewis's ambition to turn Creekmarsh into a venue.'

'It might put a damper on a wedding,' said Ben, with a degree of relief at the change of subject.

'That's what I told Fran and Guy,' said Libby, and could have bitten her tongue out.

'That'd be cool, wouldn't it?' Adam rushed in to cover the awkward moment. 'D'you reckon Lewis would let Harry do the catering?'

'I'm sure he'd love Harry,' laughed Libby, 'but I doubt that Fran and Guy want veggie food.'

'What do they want?' asked Ben.

'No idea.' Libby shrugged. 'I didn't discuss it with them.' 'I bet,' said Ben, and stood up. 'Shall we clear away?'

Adam and Libby exchanged a complicit glance. 'OK,' said Libby.

Ben left an hour later, saying he knew how much Libby wanted to have time with Adam.

'Honestly, Ad,' she said, coming back into the sitting room and removing Sidney from the sofa. 'Whatever is the matter with him? He practically lives here, and now he's behaving like a mere acquaintance.'

'You know what's the matter with him. I said earlier. He wants to marry you, or at least put your relations.h.i.+p on a firmer footing so he has the right to protect you and share in your life properly.'

Libby looked at him admiringly. 'Gosh, Ad, you are grown up,' she said. 'But what you don't realise is that the tax position would change radically if we moved in together. And if we got married. And not to our advantage.'

'So why do people ever get married, then?' asked Adam, slinging long legs over the arm of the armchair. 'I thought the older generation were supposed to be in favour of it and encourage us lot to stop living in sin.'

'I don't think it means very much any more,' said Libby, leaning over to top up his wine gla.s.s. 'It didn't stop your father or Ben's wife from going off with someone else, did it? What price marriage vows, then?'

Adam frowned. 'Protection?'

'From what? People can be left dest.i.tute after the breakdown of any relations.h.i.+p, including marriage.'

'Children?'

'How many children did you know at school who came from a traditional family? How many of your friends had double-barrelled surnames because the school included both parents' names?'

'That's true.' Adam held his gla.s.s up to the light and squinted through it. 'I can't think of anything, then. But surely, the whole commitment thing is living together? Ben wants commitment and you don't.'

Libby was feeling more and more uncomfortable. It just wasn't right discussing this sort of thing with her son.

'I do want commitment,' she said slowly, 'but I want my independence, too.'

'That's a man's argument,' said Adam with a knowing grin. 'And a woman would say it meant he didn't love her enough.'

'But it's an acknowledged thing nowadays,' Libby persisted. 'LATs are more and more popular. Even with married couples. I know several.'

'Several?'

'Well, one or two,' admitted Libby. 'Do you remember Marsha? When you were little?'

'Your mate at the theatre? With all that black hair?'

'That's the one. Well, she met this man a few years ago and they got married. Went to live in London. But they bought separate homes. He's got a flat and she's got a little mews house with a huge studio s.p.a.ce.'

Adam frowned. 'How far apart? And when do they get together? Does she invite him over for dinner? Or does he ask her back for coffee?'

Libby sighed. 'Only round the corner from each other, and I suppose they handle it like Ben and I do. He spends most of his time here, but goes back to The Manor when he's finished work for the day to have a shower, and back there in the morning to change into his work clothes.'

'But that's because he lives with his mum and dad and works for them, in a way.' He held out his gla.s.s for a refill. 'Mind you, I think it's weird that someone in his fifties is still living with his mum and dad.'

'It's not quite like that, is it?' said Libby, feeling that this conversation was becoming positively mired in the unexplainable. 'He only went back to live there the year before last.'

'He could have moved in with you then,' said Adam.

'We'd only just got together,' said Libby. 'Anyway, Ad, I think this conversation's gone far enough. I'll have a chat with Ben and see if we can't smooth things over.'

Adam looked doubtful. 'Have a chat with Pete and Harry first,' he suggested. 'Pete knows Ben better than nearly anybody else, doesn't he?'

'OK,' said Libby, more because she wanted to end the conversation rather than in a spirit of agreement. 'So tell me more about your Superintendent.'

Chapter Four.

LEWIs...o...b..URNE-WALKER SAT in the solar at Creekmarsh Place. His laptop sat open but ignored beside him as he watched darkness falling over the inlet that led to the Creekmarsh Sailing Club and the sea beyond. The sky, streaked with orange and greyish purple, looked like an improbable picture painted by a four-year-old.

Lewis sighed, and looked back at the email he had just opened.

'Just remember who helped you buy that sodding awful house,' it said, 'and remember where you came from.'

It was unsigned, but Lewis knew where it came from, and what it meant. He sighed again, and returned to the sunset.

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