She was clearly not going to be dissuaded, so Nova might as well get this over with quickly, before Pamela returned.
“Come on through,” she said, leading the mismatched group into the living room. Craddock headed straight for the sugared almonds and managed to scoff several before Nova was able to pull him back and move the tubs out of the way. “Please, take a seat.”
Ash and Arthur sat on one of the large sofas, while Phyllis took David’s armchair, Craddock settling at her feet.
“So, how are you all—” Nova started, but Phyllis brushed the pleasantries aside.
“We need to discuss our next steps. Nova’s been suspended, Sandy’s in hospital and the community center has been closed. Unless we can find the missing money, and fast, it may never open its doors again.”
“Phyllis, I—”
“Arthur and I had a long chat yesterday, and we agreed our best plan to find Michael and prove Cynthia’s behind the crimes is to focus on the private investigator angle.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Arthur said, but Phyllis plowed on.
“The computer file is key to everything, so it’s vital we get into it ASAP.” Phyllis turned her intense gaze on Ash, who sunk back into the sofa.
“I told you, I’m trying,” he stuttered. “I’ve just downloaded a new piece of software; it’s not strictly legal, but it might help.”
“Good boy,” Phyllis said, her eyes flashing with satisfaction at the words “not strictly legal.” She turned her attention back to Nova. “We also need to work out how to clear your name. Has Sandy remembered any more about her attack?”
“Apparently not; it was dark outside, and the figure pushed her as soon as she opened the door.”
“Hmm, that’s most inconvenient.”
“How is Sandy?” Arthur asked.
“Okay, I think. No serious injuries, but it sounds like it was a nasty shock.”
“Cynthia’s crafty, I’ll give her that,” Phyllis said, absentmindedly stroking Craddock’s head. “She’d give Mr. Symington a run for his money.”
“Who?” Arthur asked.
“Richard Symington, fromThe Moving Finger. One of Agatha Christie’s most perfect works, and all about adultery. I’ve been scouring it looking for useful tips for our case.”
“Does that mean you’re finally admitting that love was the motive?” Arthur said, and Nova saw a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve said allalong, people will commit all sorts of crimes for love. In this one book I read Esi,Devil in Winter, this woman, Evie, marries a known scoundrel to get her awful family off her back but then—”
“One thing I’ve learned fromThe Moving Finger,” Phyllis said, speaking over Arthur, “is that the criminal will often go to elaborate measures to distract Miss Marple from seeing the true intention behind their—”
“And then this disturbed assassin comes after Evie and so Sebastian is forced to—”
“Oh my God, listen to the pair of you!” Nova spoke louder than she’d intended to, and they both stopped mid-sentence. “You’re both talking about books,fictionalbooks, but this is my real life. I’m getting married tomorrow, and in the past forty-eight hours I’ve been suspended from my job, and someone has framed me for attacking my boss. So, I’m sorry, but I don’t care about Evie or Miss Marple. I have to focus on my own situation.”
“Of course you do, and that’s why we’re here,” Arthur said. “We want to prove Cynthia is behind the crimes so we can clear your name.”
“And I appreciate that, but it’s not really working, is it? So far, every time we try and prove Cynthia is behind a crime, something even worse happens. And I can’t risk anything else going wrong and ruining my wedding tomorrow.”
“This isn’t just about you,” Phyllis said. “If we can’t work out what happened to the stolen money then the community center will close, and that affects us all.”
“I’m very aware of what will happen if the money isn’t found. But scouring the plots of novels to find a solution isn’t going to make the money magically reappear. The only way it’ll be found is if the police can trace Michael.”
Phyllis snorted. “Oh, then we’ll be waiting forever and the center will close.”
“Maybe it will,” Nova said quietly. “But I can’t waste any more time trying to solve this crime. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have wedding favors to sort.”
“This is outrageous!” Phyllis said. “You should be—”
“Phyllis, let’s go and leave Nova be,” Arthur said. “She’s right; maybe we have let ourselves get a bit carried away with it all.”
