I nodded. “I’ll bring biscuits.”
“Lovely, we’ve missed them.” He picked up the T-shirts. “Why were they in the microwave?”
“Keeps them fresh,” I said.
“I didn’t know that.” And off he went, leaving me with the promise of biscuits and more chats and the knowledge that he hadn’t been scared off. I sang myself a few lines of “Rasputin” and did a little dance. I was disappointed only that he hadn’t changed into one of the T-shirts right there and then in the kitchen.
***
Following Emma’s visit, I kept an eye on the forum, which expanded its scope and began calling itselfWhatever Happened to Lennie Green and Doug Newman?You had to join to be able to read the comments, so I put myself up there as LooseEnds. I looked along the list Mrs. Billings had shown us, revealing who was in the forum. AllEars was there, along with NoseyParker, who was either an innocent bystander or had the worst pseudonym in the world.
Most of the chat was similar to the theory about Lennie having been chopped up:
Are they sure the body’s really him?
Mafia hit.
Hit-and-run.
My heart stood still. Who wrote that and how did they know?
The next person said he would have been in the road, not the river, if it had been a hit-and-run and their attention was diverted away, but it left me feeling uneasy.
Then Emma, a.k.a., AllEars, steered around it and asked:
Did anyone here know Lennie Green?
You’d need to ask in Great Beadington, we’re all Upper Iffley here,one of the pseudonyms said and the chat went quiet for a while, maybe sensing an outsider.
What about Doug Newman?
Oh yes, he was Upper Ifflian through and through, Mrs. Faulkner wrote.His family’s farmed that land for generations, and Doug’s granddad and great-great-uncle are both on the war memorial.
What do you think happened to him?
Well, he was found in the water, wasn’t he?
I mean, how do you think he got there? Do you think there’s a serial killer in Upper Iffley?
I gasped, and if I gasped, knowing what I knew, I could be sure other residents around the village were gasping too.
We had a series of burglaries back in 2006, Mrs. Chambers wrote.They broke into our shop, the post office, and the pub, but that’s the biggest crime wave Upper Iffley’s ever seen. It’s not the kind of place you get a serial killer.
Anyway, you need three murders to make it a serial killer, Mary Bishop wrote.
That gave me pause for thought. If James and I bumped another one off, maybe the police would go looking somewhere else for a serial killer. Or even better, James could be the third victim. After that, the spree could come to an end. But it was quite a risk; it had all the makings of a plan that could backfire badly.
The idea caused a real stir on the forum, with everyone advising each other to be home before dark and check their doors were locked to avoid becoming the third body.
Then someone calling themselves BigDreams wrote,I don’t think it’s very helpful to be speculating like that. You’ll only cause upset for the victim’s families and anyone who is a bit nervous. We’ll all bejumping out of our skin whenever we see a spade.
A spade?Mrs. Faulkner said.
Or anything you could batter someone with, BigDreams wrote.A hammer, a poker, a frying pan. We’ll never look at household items in the same way.
We never will, Mrs. Chambers agreed.
So Emma went back to her earlier line of questioning:Does anyone actually know what goes on in Langley Hall?I mean has anyone visited there recently? Does anyone speak to the owners?
