Because it really didn’t look good.
MIKE POURED the tea, waiting until Rachel had left them to deal with another customer. “Now,” he said as he passed Rebecca a cup, “tell us why you ran like that.”
When she said nothing, Jonathon passed her a slice of cake. “Here. This is really good.”
Rebecca tried a forkful, rolling her eyes. “Oh God. This is gorgeous.” She took another mouthful, then regarded Mike. “You came to the Cedars to find me. Why?”
Mike made a mental note. Never mind torture for getting people to talk. What was obviously needed was cake. “Actually, we were there to see a friend of ours, Lily Rossiter.”
Rebecca’s face brightened instantly. “Aw. She’s lovely. I always like it when I get to clean her room. She’s really cheerful, and she talks to me.” Her forehead furrowed. “Then why did you say my name like that, if you were there to see Lily?”
“A friend was telling us about Sophie,” Jonathon said in a low voice. “We’re really sorry. She sounds like she was a wonderful little girl.”
“She was.” Rebecca’s expression tightened. She jerked her head in Mike’s direction. “You think I had something to do with that writer’s death, don’t you? Because of Sophie?”
Mike shrugged. “It was a possibility that we had to check out.” He took a close look at her. He didn’t recall seeing her in the pub, either Friday night or at any other time.
“It wasn’t me.” She bit her lip. “I wasn’t even at that dinner.”
Jonathon opened his mouth to say something, but Mike flashed him a glance. “Then you know she had an allergic reaction.” Rebecca was clearly under the impression that Teresa had eaten nuts of some kind during the meal, and he didn’t want to correct her. He wanted to see where this led.
Rebecca nodded. “But it wasn’t me,” she insisted again. “So you’re talking to the wrong person. And besides, it could’ve been an accident. A mistake.”
Jonathon frowned. “What could have been an accident?”
Rebecca took another mouthful of carrot cake, ignoring him.
Obviously the cake wasn’t working anymore.
Mike cut into his slice of Battenberg, relishing the thick layer of pale yellow marzipan that covered it. Marzipan was a favorite of his and always the first part of the Christmas cake to be eaten. When he was little, his mum used to make a fantastic Christmas cake, although she made a separate smaller version for his dad, who couldn’t stand the taste of ground almonds.
Ground almonds….
Mike stared at Rebecca. “Okay, so you weren’t at the dinner. But you know someone who was.”
She jerked her head up, then froze.
Mike nodded slowly. “So who did you get to sprinkle the ground almonds on Teresa’s cheesecake?”
This time there was no mistaking the flash of fear in her wide brown eyes.
Jonathon gaped. “But—”
Mike plowed ahead. “That was the plan, wasn’t it? To introduce nuts into her food?”
Rebecca swallowed. “We didn’t know it would kill her, honest. We just thought it would make her really ill.”
“But you knew she was allergic to nuts,” Jonathon confirmed. “What did you think would happen?”
“That she’d get sick!” Rebecca yelled.
A cup clattered into a saucer. Mike looked over to where Rachel stood with a customer, both staring in their direction. Then the lady cleared her throat and resumed her quiet conversation. Rachel gave them a sympathetic glance.
Rebecca took a deep breath. “Sorry about that.” She took a few more seconds to breathe deeply. “My mum is allergic to penicillin. I’ve seen what she’s like when she’s taken it by accident. She gets a rash and a temperature, and she stays in bed for a few days.”
“And that’s what you thought would happen to Teresa?” Jonathon asked.
Mike sighed inwardly. Whatever else Rebecca—and her unknown accomplice—were guilty of, it wasn’t murder. He was glad. He hated to think of her young life ruined. Then he reasoned that whatever the outcome, they had knowingly given her something that might cause her death, even if they hadn’t intended to kill her.
“Who’s we?” he asked softly. When she didn’t reply, Mike put down his fork, reached across, and took her hand. “Rebecca. It’s all right.” It wasn’t, of course, but that would be up to the police to decide.
She shook her head, tears spilling over her cheeks. “No, it’s not. We killed her.”
Jonathon put his hand on her back. “You didn’t.” She stared at him, wiping her eyes. He sighed. “Yes, Teresa died of anaphylactic shock, but it was the result of something she ingested in the pub. Hours after the meal.”
“And besides, I think she’d have noticed something as obvious as ground almonds, don’t you?” Mike added. “She was very careful when it came to her food.”
She frowned. “But….”
“Whomever you got to add the nuts… they put them on the wrong plate,” Jonathon announced. “Our friend Heather got them instead.”
Her frown deepened, and then she stared at them with wide eyes. “Really?”
Mike nodded. “So I’m guessing you know someone who was working on the catering team.” He gave her an inquiring gaze. “One of the waiters?”
The sharp hitch in her breathing told him all he needed to know. Then she sagged into her chair. “My boyfriend, Sam. Ever since we learned she’d died, he’s been waiting for a knock on the door. We were sure it was the almonds that had killed her.” That flash of fear was back. “We… we can’t be done for that, can we?”
Mike had to be honest. “The police might view it as attempted murder, but once you explain that you thought it would cause a reaction like your mum’s, they might be lenient. You just need to be honest with them.”
“Go to the police station with Sam,” Jonathon suggested. “Come clean right away. If you do need a barrister, I’ll find one for you. A good one.” He smiled. “I have some connections that might come in useful.”
“But be prepared for what might happen,” Mike warned her. “Will Sam go along with this?”
“Yeah. He only did it because he loves me.” Rebecca sighed. “We were crazy to think we’d get away with it.” Her breathing grew more even. “I’m glad it’s out in the open. These last few days have been really bad.”
Jonathon patted her on the back. “Now drink your tea. Then we’ll find Sam.”
She nodded, picking up her cup and drinking deeply from it.
Mike poured himself a second cup. At least they could cross Rebecca off the list. The only thing was, he had a feeling there would soon be more names to take her place.
“MIKE!”
“Hang on a sec,” Mike called out from under the bar. “There’s a problem with this barrel. The line is clogged.”
“Then it will have to wait. We’ve got a visitor.”
Something in Jonathon’s tone gave him pause. “I know who it is, don’t I?”