“We don’t know for sure that Teresa was murdered,” Mike reminded him as he placed a mug in front of him.
“But it’s adding up that way.” Graham took out his notepad and scribbled a couple of lines.
“And I’m not sure I like the implication,” Jonathon added. “You make it sound like all these murders are taking place because we got together. As if we’ve somehow caused them to happen.”
“Well, you’ve got to admit that’s how it looks. Three suspicious deaths? It’s beginning to feel like one of those detective series on TV. You know the ones, where the dead bodies start piling up.” Graham tapped his notepad with his pen. “And now I have to report this.” He sipped his coffee. “Now I remember why I came over at this hour. Your coffee is way better than the stuff at the station.”
“The festival begins today. Should we say anything to Heather about our suspicions?” Jonathon asked.
Both Graham and Mike shook their heads. “Say nothing,” Graham urged. “She can announce Teresa’s death, of course. It’s not as if she could hide that, given the number of people in the pub last night.” He rubbed his chin. “But you know what? You two could prove useful.”
Jonathon widened his eyes. “In what capacity?”
Mike chuckled. “I think I know the answer to that one. He wants us to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Maybe someone at the festival had it in for her. They might relax now that she’s dead, thinking no one suspects foul play.”
“Relaxed enough to reveal motives, you mean?” Jonathon shrugged. “It’s possible, I suppose.”
Mike finally sat down, a mug in his hand. “I hate to throw a spanner in the works, but something has just occurred to me. If it was murder, then all those people in the pub last night could be witnesses. And most of them aren’t from around here. So when the festival ends tomorrow evening, they’ll leave.”
“Never mind witnesses—one of them might have done it.” Jonathon stared at Graham. “And then it’ll be a case of person or persons unknown. Especially as the postmortem results won’t be out until after the festival finishes.”
Graham scowled. “Not on my watch.” He leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful as he drank his coffee. No one said anything for several minutes. Finally, Graham sighed. “Okay. There’s only one course of action. I’ll have to make an announcement at the festival opening.”
“What kind of announcement? ‘There’s been a murder. Please raise your hand if you did it’?” Jonathon snickered. “I can see that going down well.”
“The thing is, you’re right. We won’t have the postmortem results until at least Monday, so I need to get details from everyone who was here. That means I have to say we’re treating her death as suspicious for the moment. Then I ask anyone who came into contact with her that evening to please come forward and give me any information they feel might be relevant.” Graham peered at Jonathon. “Is there a room I can use at the manor house?”
He nodded. “I can set you up in the study.”
“And I can give you a hand,” Mike added. “I can take down names and details for you. It’s not like I don’t have the experience, right?”
Graham gave them a grateful glance. “Thanks. The last thing I want is for the postmortem to prove this was murder and not to have records of who was there.”
“Half the village was here last night, only most of them kept their distance,” Jonathon commented. “Paul Drake was in his usual spot at the bar. He might have seen something.”
“Unless it turns out he’s the murderer,” Graham said with a grin.
“He can’t bear to slaughter his own pigs, let alone a human being,” Mike observed.
“I think Paul gets on better with his pigs than with the rest of us mere humans,” Jonathon added. All three of them laughed at that.
“Fiona can probably give you a lot of information too,” Mike said, before draining his mug.
Graham snorted. “If I have any questions about Teresa, it’s Fiona I’ll be consulting. That woman knows all there is to know about her.” He glanced at the wall clock. “I’d better get a move on. When does the festival kick off?”
“It opens at ten in the ballroom. Then the panels start in there and in the music room, so there’ll be movement between the two. Refreshments are being served in the entrance hall.”
Graham got to his feet. “Then I’ll be there at nine to set up in the study. I take it one or both of you will be there?”
“Both of us. Abi is running things here this weekend.”
Jonathon couldn’t resist. “Mike wanted to make sure he attended the festival. I thought he was there to support me, but now I find he’s a closet Teresa Malvain fan and murder-mystery reader.”
Mike glared at him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with reading?”
Jonathon held up his hands defensively. “Nothing. I’m just saying that I’ve known you almost a year, and I’m only learning about your reading habits now. It’s as if you didn’t want me to know.” He loved teasing Mike.
“I hate to break up this lovers’ tiff, but we’ve got work to do.” Graham stuffed his notepad and pen into his pocket. “I’ll see you both up there.” And with that, he left them.
Mike collected the mugs and plates. “He’s right. We’ve got work to do.”
“This is certainly going to be the most memorable literary festival ever.” Jonathon felt bad for Heather. All the effort she’d put into preparing for it, and the one thing everyone would remember would be the death of the guest of honor.
“As long as we only have one death to deal with,” Mike said dryly.
Jonathon shivered. “Amen to that.”
Chapter Seven
GRAHAM REPLACED his notepad in his breast pocket. “Thank you for your attention, ladies and gentlemen. And if any of you do remember something you feel would be vital to this investigation, please find me in the study. And one final note….” He gave a broad smile. “Enjoy the festival. I know that might be difficult, given the circumstances, but the organizer has put together a great line-up of speakers, so make sure you get the chance to listen to them. And if you want to buttonhole them after, or tell them what a fantastic author they are, do that too. This is your chance to thank them personally for all those great books.” He stepped away from the mic, amid subdued applause, and the crowd began to disperse, some taking seats in preparation for the next speaker, others exiting the ballroom.
Jonathon patted him on the back. “Thank you. That was nicely done.”
“Heather set the tone.” Graham gave her a nod. “That minute’s silence was a good idea.”
Heather sighed. “It seemed the respectful thing to do.” She glanced around. “Where’s Mike?”
“Setting up the study for Graham. He says he’ll stay as long as he’s needed.” Jonathon consulted the printed agenda. “And I was going to stay in here and listen to the murder-mystery panel. Phil McCallister is on it.”