Screaming Yellow (34 page)

Meinwen coughed. “If he’s innocent, he’ll soon be cleared.”

Simon leaned forward. “How did you know about the marriage, Meinwein? I hadn’t even got an inkling.”

“You forget what I am. A woman knows these things.” Meinwen got off the sofa and stretched her legs. “Besides, I remembered Catherine wore Celtic jewelry and guessed the ring Mary found must be hers. I did a search and found out that there was no record of her being married, so she must have married in secret and quite recently.” She shrugged. “Richard wouldn’t have dared order rings online in case someone asked him about the package or, worse still, it got delivered to The Larches and Robert opened it. There are only three jewelers in town, and only one that sells Celtic wedding bands. The rest was just charm and questions.” She looked at Jennifer. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”

Jennifer made another cup of tea. When Meinwen returned, feeling a little fresher than she had done, she squatted in front of Catherine. “Here’s your ring, Mary found it and would have claimed it for herself. Be a bit more careful with it in future?”

“Thanks.” Catherine slipped it back on. “I didn’t realize how much I’d miss it.”

Meinwen held her fingers lightly to admire the ring in its rightful place. “I have one more question.”

“Yes?”

“What cellphone did Richard have?”

Catherine shrugged. “A Nokia. One with a camera. I’ve got the number if you want it. Why?”

Meinwen shook her head. “I think the police found it at the scene.”

Chapter 31

Meinwen stood. “I can’t hang about here all day. I should be doing an inventory.”

“Would anyone like another cup of tea?” Jennifer placed a hand on Catherine’s knee and the girl looked up.

“No, thank you.” Catherine sighed. “I need to think about all this and work out what I’m going to do.”

“You’re welcome to stay here. You can rest in my room if you like, and I can make up a bed on the sofa for you.”

“I couldn’t presume…” Catherine was hopeful.

Jennifer smiled and held out a hand to help her up from the chair. “Think nothing of it. I’ll show you where my room is.”

“Thank you.”

Meinwen watched them go. “Remember I need you at the meeting at my house at nine.”

Catherine stopped. “Must I? I don’t think I could face any of them.”

“I insist.” Meinwen winked. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll hex anyone who says anything to you.”

Catherine laughed. “All right.” She took out her phone. “I’ll set an alarm for eight.”

Simon waited until they heard footsteps in his sister’s room. “Do you think she was telling the truth?”

Meinwen nodded. “Probably. I can’t see her murdering Mr. Markhew. What good would it have done? Would her marriage last if she’d killed her father-in-law? Richard wouldn’t stay with a murderess.”

“No.” Simon tapped his finger against his lips. “He’s a very trusting young man.”

“You’re very fond of him, aren’t you?”

“I am. The lad shows a lot of promise. I had hoped he might go into the clergy, but he studied psychology at university instead of divinities.”

“Did he now?” Meinwen tied her hair back. “That’s interesting. Was he involved in his uncle’s work at all?”

“The kinky books?” Simon shook his head. “I don’t think so. Is it important?”

“Everything is important, Father.” Meinwen smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “I must be off. I have things to do before the meeting.”

“Do you know who the murderer is?”

Meinwen paused in the act of opening the door. “Let’s just say that I know who it isn’t.” She smiled. “See you later.”

* * * *

Jean Markhew took the key from her pocket and slipped the silver chain from Nicole’s ankle, folding the chain in two and dropping it into her jewelry box.

Nicole rubbed at the reddened skin where the chain had chafed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Jean nodded. “Until we know how the will is going to be divided I cannot and will not claim you for my own, even if you wish it.”

Nicole bowed her head. “I understand. I’m sure that the police will sort it out soon.”

“I hope so.” Jean removed a gold chain from the box on her dresser. “If you’re amenable, I’d like you to wear this in the meantime.”

Nicole stood up straight. “I would be honored, ma’am.” She dropped to one knee, drawing up her hair so the tattoo of the twin R’s was exposed.

Jean threaded the chain around her neck and clicked the heart-shaped padlock into place.

* * * *

Meinwen took the long way round into town but had to hurry to get out of sight in case Simon left the rectory to go to St. Pity’s. She didn’t want him seeing her talking to Tom, who was trimming the grass around the tombs with a pair of long-handled shears.

“Afternoon,” he said. “Come to look at Old Mab again?”

“Actually, it’s you I’ve come to see.” She took his arm and led him to the side of a tomb, out of sight of the church. “I know your secret.”

* * * *

Meinwen pulled the coffee table in front of her chair at the shop and spread a silk cloth over it, shuffling and spreading her tarot deck. She studied the results. So many major arcana cards were unusual in a ten-card Celtic cross spread and she mused upon the positions of The Hierophant, The Hermit and The Lovers.

She shuffled the cards again and did two quick three-card draws to confirm what the full reading had told her then put them away again. The hermit had come between the two lovers but was occluded by the priest. Could Robert be thought of as a hermit? She suspected so. His lifestyle had certainly been an alternative one.

When she left the shop at five, she happened to glance across at the bookshop. Mr. Jasfoup stood in the window watching her. He raised his hand in greeting.

Meinwen shuddered.

* * * *

When Catherine arrived at The Herbage at eight-thirty, accompanied by Simon and Jennifer, Meinwen let them in and showed them through to a sitting room crowded with chairs and stools.

“It’ll be a bit of a squeeze.” Meinwen moved a rug. “And one or two might have to sit on the floor but at least we’ll be cozy.” She went into the kitchen. “Catherine? Could I ask you to make up a pot of coffee and set the cups out? I want to lay out a few snacks.”

Catherine followed her into the kitchen, spotting the crockery and all but colliding with Simon, who stood in the doorway.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He clasped his hands together. “I’m quite handy with a teapot, I’m told.”

Meinwen smiled. “By all means. A pot of green tea would be very welcome.”

“Green tea?” He drew air through his teeth. “Ah well. If you insist.”

Catherine laughed at the look on the priest’s face.

Meinwen shook her head. “I’ll make the green. You sort out some for yourself. There’s a box of Assam in the cupboard. I bought it specially.” She carried a tray of snacks to the living room and touched Catherine’s arm. “It’s ten minutes before the other guests arrive. Mind if I check my email?”

Catherine had just finished making a pot of coffee when the knocking came and would have answered the door had Simon not beaten her to it.

“What’s all this about, Father?” Jean led the retinue from The Larches and glared at Meinwen. “I am getting heartily sick of all this kafuffle over the death of my brother-in-law.”

“It won’t be much longer,” said Meinwen. “I assure you, this will all be resolved very shortly. That’s part of the reason I asked you all here tonight.”

“I hope so.” Jean glared at Catherine. “Where have you been all day?”

“She’s been with me.” Meinwen folded her arms. “Mrs. Godwin and I have had quite a chat.”

“Mrs. Godwin?” Jean looked puzzled, her eyes seeking her daughter.

Meinwen coughed. “Not Mary, Mrs. Markhew. Catherine. She and Richard married in secret six weeks ago.”

It gave Catherine some satisfaction to see the look of shock that passed over the older woman’s face.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh.”

“Simon?” Meinwen took charge again. “Would you help Mrs. Markhew to a seat and perhaps fetch her a glass of water?”

Simon steadied one of Jean’s arms while Amanda took the other. When she was safely in one of the armchairs, Jean stared at Catherine. “That’s why you wanted to leave. You have your own master now.”

Catherine smiled. “I’m sorry for the deception but Robert would never have stood for it. He wanted Richard to marry Mary.”

“I know.” Jean composed herself. It was fascinating to watch, thought Catherine. It was as if she were two different people. All the confusion and hurt was drawn inside and enclosed in a hard, dominant exterior. Now she was as cold and as calculating as ever, despite the huge shock she’d just had–not only to her hopes for her daughter, but for her financial security.

“Where is…your husband?” Jean took a deep breath. “Was he really arrested?”

Catherine lowered her eyes. “He’s been here all along. In Laverstone, I mean. Someone was trying to frame him.”

“Don’t worry about Richard’s whereabouts just yet.” Meinwen drew the attention back to herself.

“Where is he?” Jean leaned forward. “He’s wanted by the police. If you’re sheltering him…”

Meinwen raised a hand. “All will be revealed in good time.” She pulled a sheet of paper from her printer tray. “Now, are we all here?” She read out the names on the sheet. “Mrs. Jean Markhew and her daughter Mary.” She nodded to them both. “Mrs. Godwin, Susan Pargeter and Nicole Fielding.” She caught their eyes as she called out their names. “Amanda James and Peter Numan.” She put the paper down and smiled. “And Father Brande, Jennifer and myself, of course. You are all suspects in the murder of Robert Markhew seven days ago.”

“This is preposterous.” Jean began to rise in her chair.

“Sit down, Mrs. Markhew.” Meinwen copied the older woman’s tone and she did as she was told.

“Robert Markhew had dinner with Jean, Mary, Father Brande and his sister, Jennifer. They were served by Amanda.” Meinwen lowered the paper and grinned. “I feel like Poirot doing this. Will the real murderer please stand?”

Jean frowned. “Do get on with it. Nobody would answer such a stupid request.”

Meinwen dipped her head. “After dinner Robert and Simon discussed the death of Grace Peters in the study culminating in Robert coming out and asking for the morning’s post when Amanda gave him a letter. He returned to the study but asked Simon to leave.” She paused. “Why did he not receive it in the morning with the rest of the post?”

Susan coughed. “Because I hand-delivered it in the middle of the day.”

Meinwen nodded. “Exactly. I should very much like to see that letter. Did you read it, Miss Pargeter?”

Susan shook her head. “No. Mother…Mrs. Peters had already sealed it, and it would have been a breach of my position to open it.”

“A pity.” Meinwen smiled. “Still, I commend your ethics.” She twisted her computer chair around and sat. “The next we know of Robert Markhew was his argument, overheard by Peter Numan, with an unknown someone at nine-thirty.”

“That was obviously Richard,” said Jean. “He must have been there.”

“Must he?” Meinwen held up a hand. “Bear with me for a little longer. No one else saw Mr. Markhew after that time.”

“But Mary…” Jean began.

Meinwen held up her hand again. “For reasons of her own, which I believe are truthful, Mary did not say goodnight to him. The next sighting we have of Robert Markhew was at eleven-thirty when the study door was broken down and his body was discovered.”

She paused and reached out for a cracker biscuit, breaking it into two pieces. “May I have a cup of the coffee?”

Amanda, who was sitting on the floor, waited for a nod from Jean before pouring it.

Meinwen took a sip and ate half the cracker. She waved a hand at the refreshments. “Do help yourselves.”

Amanda poured a cup for Jean and Peter reached for the biscuits.