Page 30 of A Curious Ending

Abby turned to her. ‘I do not believe Joe has a murderous disposition, but I do think it would be good to find out if he believed the will had been changed.’

Lara looked uncomfortable.

‘You can see that this could be important,’ Abby insisted.

‘I suppose I could find a way to ask,’ Lara said reluctantly.

‘I would also like to look at the paintings that Dr Patil is to inherit, on the basis one should always be thorough… it might explain why he was meeting Mr Honeybourne, to gain his advice about the paintings…’ she added doubtfully.

‘… and the vicar?’ Lara muttered sarcastically under her breath.

Abby prided herself on her exceptional hearing.

‘I think currently we can discount him on the basis of opportunity.’

‘Hmmm… so not the vicar,’ Lara said, suppressing a smile, ‘but we’re not ruling out Dr Patil?’

‘I think it would be foolhardy to do so at this stage. You have to remember that in addition to his legacy he lied to us and also that Lady Porter did not confide in him about her time in India.’

‘What about Mrs M, she had an inheritance too?’ Lara suggested reluctantly. She thought the list of suspects could end up being as long as ever. And that was without finding out why Jason Honeybourne had been sneaking around Gillmore House and meeting up with Dr Patil. She sighed.

‘Oh, do not get disheartened,’ Abby reassured her. ‘I agree that the vicar and Mrs M are extremely unlikely suspects.’

‘But it’s always the unlikely ones…’

Lara whispered this even more quietly to herself in a small, worried voice.

‘Nonsense! That is the stuff of fiction.’

There really was not much that Abigail Rossmore ever missed. (That is, apart from the sound of her murderer preparing a trap for her.) ‘In my experience you should always look at the family first and in particular I have found husbands have a strong proclivity for murder. But let us return to the doctor. What exactly did he inherit?’

Lara brought out her phone. ‘I thought you might ask that, so I took a photo of most of the documents I found and I got an image of the list detailing the paintings.’ She showed it to Abby. ‘We must get back to the shop now, but I’ll google them later.’ Lara put her phone back in her pocket and started the van. She then spent the next few minutes explaining to the ever-curious Abby what Google was.

‘Now, tell me about the other photograph you took in the bathroom?’ Abby eventually enquired.

‘I think I know what that was. And it’s interesting too.’ Lara smiled quickly at Abby as she turned the van into the lane leading to the Market Square. ‘I’m not a doctor’s daughter for nothing.’ She drove into a convenient parking spot in front of the shop, and added, ‘But I might just ring Dad to check first.’

There was no time to say more before they hurried through the rain into the warmth of the shop. The rest of the day passed uneventfully and it was not until later that evening that Lara had the opportunity to talk to Abby about what they should do next. By then Lara was curled up on the sofa in front of the wood burner. After work Abby had disappeared and Lara spent a productive few hours sorting washing, changing her bed and had found time to phone her father, plus, send Penny Porter the quote for her flowers. Having eaten a solitary late supper of pasta she settled down with a coffee and ten minutes with her book. She was just wondering whether she needed some chocolate to go with her coffee when Abby appeared. Abby settled in the armchair opposite. ‘What book are you reading?’ she enquired.

‘Oh, it’s an old favourite; Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy. When I’m really busy or stressed I re-read something I love. You can’t beat spending time with Gabriel Oak.’

‘Gabriel Oak?’ Abby asked. ‘Ah, is that a variety of the species Quercus? Uncle Henry was a very keen arborist.’

‘No,’ Lara grinned. ‘He’s the unlikely hero of the story. A solid, dependable farmer. I have a big soft spot for him.’ She reflected that Julian Armstrong was about as different to Gabriel Oak as it was possible to be. No, Julian was much more like a Sergeant Troy.

Lara put her book down and picked up her phone. ‘I thought you might like to hear what I found out about the pills in Penny’s cupboard.’ Abby sat forward in her chair. This evening she had changed into a dress of diaphanous silver lace. She had a handsome shawl in oyster pink draped around her shoulders and a spray of flowers in her hair. Lara was getting so used to these extravagant outfits that she passed no comment (although she did think she recognised the flowers from a spray Becky had made up earlier).

Instead she said, ‘They are Phenobarbitone and are used for people with epilepsy. So it seems Penny may be a sufferer.’

‘Poor Pinky,’ Abby murmured.

‘I know Penny doesn’t drive,’ Lara continued, ‘and that might explain why. Anyway, I remembered something else about Phenobarbitone – which I checked with my dad – they used to be prescribed as sleeping pills but doctors stopped using them as they were considered too dangerous. Too many people overdosed on them.’ She let the words hang in the air.

Abby nodded slowly.

‘I also looked up the paintings that Dr Patil inherited,’ Lara continued. ‘I didn’t get very far, so I’ve emailed my friend, Fiona. She’s a curator at the V&A museum. Paintings aren’t her thing, but she’s bound to know someone who can help us.’

‘Fiona?’ Abby enquired airily.