Read Online Snapped in Cornwall by Janie Bolitho - Free Book Online Page B

you were a bit upset at the time.’
    Was he being facetious? ‘I did not.’
    ‘Perhaps you left them in the taxi.’
    ‘Look, I know the driver who collected us. I know them all at Stone’s Taxis. If I’d done so they would have let me know. And I’m not in the habit of lying, especially to the police.’ Rose bit her lip. The man had riled her to the point where she was talking nonsense. The second half of her sentence negated the first.
    ‘Is that so?’ DI Pearce’s smile was mocking.
    ‘Someone else must’ve moved them. Mr Milton probably. He wouldn’t want a reminder of a Christmas he’s not going to be spending with his wife.’
    ‘We’ve checked.’
    ‘Well, perhaps your men didn’t search hard enough.’
    The remark was ignored. ‘Now you’ve had a chance to think about it, is there anyone you know who would wish to harm Mrs Milton?’
    ‘I told you at the time, I didn’t know her. I spoke to her on the telephone on two occasions and met her once on a business footing. At the party there wasn’t much chance to speak to her, she was busy making sure everyone was all right.’ But not herself, Rose added silently. ‘Is that it? I have got things to do, you know.’
    ‘Hint taken, Mrs Trevelyan. I can see you’re very busy.’ He dropped his eyes so they rested momentarily on the newspaper spread out on the table and the almost empty bottle of wine.
    Rose felt herself blush and opened the kitchen door in a dismissive gesture.
    Still annoyed and wondering why she should be, she was not fully aware of what she was saying when the telephone rang. She replaced the receiver, amazed to find she had accepted an invitation for dinner with Dennis Milton.
     
    A stiff breeze rattled the fronds of the palm tree which grew close to the shed. Rose liked the sound they made. It was one of those brilliant September days but colder outside than it appeared. The bank holiday had passed unnoticed for Rose who had missed the Fish Festival, preferring not to have toanswer the many questions she would be inundated with by all the people she would see there who knew her.
    Whitecaps formed on the tops of the shallow waves as the sea rolled in to Wherrytown Beach. When the tide was higher spray would soak the Promenade and the people foolish enough to think they could time the waves. Sennen, she thought. It would be perfect today. She could paint the sea as it broke over the rocks. She filled a flask with coffee and was just about to leave when the telephone rang again. ‘What now?’ she said as she went to answer it.
    ‘Mrs Trevelyan?’
    ‘Yes?’ She did not recognise the voice.
    ‘It’s Mrs Clarke. Doreen Clarke. From the Milton place. I was wondering if I could have a word with you.’
    ‘Well, I … Yes, of course. What is it?’
    ‘Not over the phone. Could I see you? If you’re not busy, that is,’ she added hastily.
    Rose was not exactly busy but she was beginning to feel her life wasn’t her own. She was used to solitude and enjoyed it, and she could not imagine that Doreen Clarke had anything to say to her; it was more likely prurient curiosity as to what Rose had discovered on Saturday night. Rather than let her become a nuisance she decided to get it out of the way. ‘Where are you?’
    ‘I’m at the Miltons’ but I’m leaving in half an hour.’
    It was early for her to be finishing whatever she did up there. ‘Do you have a car?’
    ‘No. Cyril drops me off. I can get myself over to Penzance easy enough.’
    ‘It’s all right. Can you get into Hayle?’
    ‘I don’t want to put you to any bother.’
    ‘It’s no trouble.’ Rose named a tea-shop and cursed herself. She had never been good at saying no but at least she had prevented Doreen from coming to the house.
    She loaded what she thought she might need into the car, remembering the flask, then set off.
    Doreen Clarke was there before her. But she didn’t have as far to come, Rose thought irritably as she entered the café.