“He was dragged into the Sunday School room and garroted,” Jo explained as she flopped down into a pew at the front of the church, where I and the other main witnesses were gathered while Hayes and Wilson questioned us. “Exactly the same pattern as the last murder, except this time the material was left at the scene.” She held up a black, gauzy cloth with a pair of tweezers and slid it into a paper bag. Something about it looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t place what it was.
“I’ve seen that cloth before,” I said, touching my father’s letter in my pocket. A headache bloomed across my temples. “I just wish I could remember where.”
I glanced over to the next pew, where Hayes and Wilson were interviewing Angus Donahue. I strained to listen – as an ex-cop and the first person on the scene after the tea-lady found Brian’s body and screamed, Angus probably had some insight.
“As we were all heading across the road to the cemetery, I happened to notice Brian walking into the Sunday school with Jim Mathis. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I know Jim’s been working as a ghostwriter for Brian’s wife.”
He has?
“This is the same Amanda you spent the night with at the Argleton Arms?” Hayes said, while Wilson furiously made notes.
“That was just a bit of fun,” Angus said. “Amanda’s reputation is no secret in our circle, not even from her husband. Brian knew all about it. I think he almost preferred it when she was out with other blokes. It meant she was spending their money, not his.”
“And was she sleeping with this Jim Mathis?”
Angus shrugged. “Probably. He was helping her write a trashy erotic novel. My guess is, they were doing practical research for one of the scenes.”
Gross.
“You saw Brian and Jim enter the Sunday School,” Hayes pressed. “Then what happened?”
“Then I went across the road to the cemetery with the rest of the guests. They should be able to confirm I was by the graveside. I was the first to throw dirt into the grave. I didn’t see Brian or Jim again until…” he shrugged again. “Well, you saw.”
“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary in the cemetery?” Hayes asked.
“Apart from Penny Sledge gleefully kicking a clot of dirt on top of the coffin, nope. Seemed a normal funeral for me.” Angus hung his head. “As normal as it ever feels to lose your best mate.”
“Thank you, Angus.” Hayes snapped his pad shut and headed over to Jo. “Has your team found anything else?”
“Unfortunately, all those people stomping around in the Sunday School room ruined what little physical evidence there might have been.” Jo patted the small box of evidence bags she was labeling in preparation for transport to her lab. “I’ll know more once I’ve processed the body, but I’d say it’s obvious the crimes are related.”
“If the murderer is the same person who killed Danny, it means Beverly Ingram has to be innocent,” I piped up. Hayes frowned.
“Agreed, it does,” Jo said. “But I didn’t say they were the same person.”
“But you said they were related. You think it could be two separate killers?” I asked.
Jo shrugged. “It’s not up to me to do the thinking. That’s Hayes’ job. I just supply the data.”
“Correct.” Hayes tapped his pad with his pen, frowning at Jo. “And you also shouldn’t be sharing private information about our cases with a civilian, especially not a nosy one like Miss Wilde.”
I let that dig slide. “Did Wilson tell you I heard Jim Mathis on the phone earlier? He was saying to someone ‘we’ve got to wait for the right time. There’s too much press around. I’ll do what has to be done,’ which sounds a little sinister if you ask me. It sounds like someone put him up to murdering Brian.”
“Thank you for the information, Miss Wilde, but no one asked you for your interpretation. In fact, you’ve been specifically warned to stay out of police investigations—”
“Jim was also the guy that Danny snitched on in order to get a shorter jail sentence,” I shot back. “Why would he show up at Danny’s funeral, unless it was to cause trouble? I think you’ve got the wrong person in jail, and Brian’s death proves it.”
Hayes tapped his phone. “This phone call Jim made… it would have taken place around quarter-past-two?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“The exact same time Beverly Ingram received a phone call at the station?”
Oh. Shite.
“I don’t think it was her! Jim made it sound as if the person on the other end was at the funeral. Besides, even if it was Beverly, that doesn’t mean anything! All I really heard was them talking about Danny’s funeral. It could have been about something completely unrelated.”
“Miss Wilde.” Hayes’ voice was stern. “It sounds to me as if you’re trying to insert yourself into official police business.”
