Angus and Brian joined the pallbearers to carry the coffin out. Morrie and I waited until most of the mourners had followed them outside. Even so, when we stood up to join the throng waiting to place flowers on Danny’s coffin, I overheard the villagers whispering about us.
“They’re from the bookshop where he was murdered, aren’t they?”
“It’s a bit sick, them showing up like this. They must be raking it in by being the place where the famous author Danny Sledge met his grisly end.”
I wish,I thought with annoyance.
“Hmmph. It would be just like that new girl to do that. She’s been trying to commercialize the place with events and whisky tastings and such.Whisky tastings?At abookshop?I’ve never heard of anything so crass. Apparently, she’s from the estate, which isn’t a surprise, now, is it? Those girls are always hungry for money. I’ve told everyone I know not to set foot in that place. It’s despicable.”
“No class! I’ll tell the ladies at church. We’ll boycott.”
Great. Just great.
After the service was complete, guests milled around the parking lot in front of the church, drifting into the Sunday School room where tea, coffee, and a spread of food had been set out. I made a beeline for the food, figuring that if I was going to get gossiped about for being a money-grubbing poor girl, I would at least get a free meal out of it.
“Look who Penny’s talking to,” Morrie nudged me, his hands filled with sausage rolls.
He gestured to the other end of the room, but I couldn’t see. “Let’s get closer.” I touched Morrie’s hand and we made our way down the food table. I knocked back three sausage rolls as I shuffled forward. Finally, I was close enough to identify Penny, her head hunched as she talked with a tall, weedy fellow I instantly recognized. Jim Mathis.
Did the two of them know each other?Interesting. I didn’t think Danny would have anything to do with Jim after he sold him down the river. So how did Penny know him?
After a few minutes of conversation, Jim held up his phone and indicated he had to make a call. Penny nodded, and Jim disappeared outside.
“Wait here,” I said to Morrie, pulling on my coat. “Keep an eye on Penny.”
If Heathcliff had been with me today, he’d never have let me go after a criminal like Jim on my own. But Heathcliff wasn’t here. He refused to be in the same room as Morrie, so he’d stayed at the shop. Quoth was up in the trees somewhere, but he wouldn’t know what was going on. Morrie nodded and inched closer to Penny. I slipped away and followed Jim as he made his way down the side of the church. He paused at the end of a short concrete path, resting his elbow on a stone gatepost. I pressed my back against a pillar, hoping like hell I was invisible behind it.
I dared a look around the corner. Jim was looking away from me. He lit up a cigarette, sucking the smoke into his lungs as he pressed the phone to his ear. “Yes, I’m at the service. Didn’t you see me? It was Danny this, Danny that, blah blah blah.”
The person on the other end spoke for a while.
“We’ve got to wait for the right time,” Jim said. “There’s too much press around. Too much attention. Everyone thinks Danny’s a fucking hero. I think we should wait—”
The person on the end was speaking again. I wished like hell I could hear what they were saying.
“Yes, fine. We’ll do it your way. I’ve got to get back.” Jim stubbed out the cigarette with his toe. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You know I always come through. I’ll do what needs to be done.”
He whirled around and headed toward me. I bent down, muttering to myself under my breath as I scrabbled through the garden. “I think I dropped it here somewhere,” I said in a louder voice as he wandered past. He didn’t offer any assistance.
I met up with Morrie across the road, and we watched as Danny’s coffin was lowered into the ground. I scanned the crowd for Jim, but couldn’t see him anywhere in the massive crowd. Refreshments were being served in the Sunday School room. Mourners dawdled in the cemetery, not wanting to appear too eager for free sausage rolls and cream scones on what was supposed to be a somber occasion.
“I hope you discovered something sordid,” Morrie said, taking my arm and leading me away from the crowd so we could talk. “I listened to Penny Sledge discussad nauseamhow she’ll be revitalizing Danny’s backlist now that she has ownership of it. New covers, classier branding. She said she may even hire a ghostwriter to produce ‘a more literary series’ under his name. The woman is deluded if she thinks Danny’s fans want his crime thrillers to turn into introspective bollocks—”
Morrie was cut short by a bloodcurdling scream.
“What was that?” someone cried.
“It came from the Bible Study room!”
Morrie and I rushed toward the entrance of the Sunday School, shoving our way through the confused mourners. Angus and Jim emerged from a second room toward the back of the hall, their faces grave. They blocked the doorway to this room with their bodies.
“Please, everyone step back,” Angus said, striding forward and waving his arms in an attempt to drive the crowd back further. “Something horrible has happened. The police are on their way and we don’t want anyone to panic—”
I ducked under Angus’ arm and stumbled into the room. My own scream froze in my throat.
Brian Letterman lay on the carpet, his body completely still. His hands clasped around his neck, and his glassy eyes bugged out from his contorted face. Around his neck, a gauzy black scarf had been twisted tight.
Chapter Thirty
