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where, if something had happened, it was going to pop
up at me. Like the cottage in Nethergate.
Cottage in Nethergate? asked Peter.
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Libby explained.
You do see life, you two, said Peter admiringly,
and returned once more to his book.
In that case, said Libby, we ll have to go and find
these places, won t we? And let you walk round them.
Fran looked troubled. Is it going to help? Shouldn t
we just tell the police?
Tell them what? They should have found this out
for themselves, shouldn t they? Donnie Murray was
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looking into the will, wasn t he? He pulled Charles in
for questioning, so he must have been.
Fran sighed. I suppose so. When do you want to
go?
Tomorrow? How far is it?
They re both in Sussex, said Peter, looking up.
What puzzles me slightly is that the police looking
into their two cases haven t twigged.
Perhaps they have, said Libby. We haven t got
the full case history here, have we? There might have
been further reports later on that we just haven t got to
yet.
Well, I don t want to take up any more of Peter s
time trawling through the internet, said Fran. I m
going home.
OK. Libby stood up and, slinging her basket over
her shoulder, bent to kiss Peter s cheek. Thanks, Pete.
We ll let you know what happens.
Ring me when you get back, he said, and mind
you don t get my Hal involved in anything else.
Where have we got to, then? asked Libby, as she
and Fran strolled down the High Street towards The
Pink Geranium.
There s something wrong with the codicil, we can t
find it anyway, we think the deaths of the drivers
might have something to do with it, and we think
Nurse Redding knows something.
Fair enough. Libby hoisted her basket more firmly
on to her shoulder. What about your cousins?
They aren t my cousins. But I really don t think
they ve got anything to do with it all, do you? Any of
them. Paul and Barbara are far too anxious to find that
will. Fran stopped by her front door. And it still
hasn t got anything to do with me, either.
I thought we d dealt with that?
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Curiosity killed the cat, sighed Fran. Do you want
a coffee or anything?
No, I ll get back if we re going out in the morning,
said Libby.
And Ben might call, mightn t he? grinned Fran.
OK. I ll see you in the morning. What time?
Ben did call. In fact, he called in person, and Libby
forgot all about being too old, used, or even
investigating a murder. Until the morning.
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Chapter Twenty-three
I DON T KNOW ABOUT a computer, I think I should
have a satnav, said Libby, pulling in yet again to the
side of a high-banked lane. Let s have another look at
that map.
Fran sighed. I told you, it just doesn t show the
road number on this map. It s not detailed enough.
What did that report say? Near Applestone? Was
that on the last signpost?
Fran gave her the print-out of one of the reports
from Peter s computer. This is the one from the BBC
website. I think it came from the local news service.
Libby peered at it and shrugged. Oh, well, I
suppose I just go on until I hit another main road and
start again, she said, and let off the handbrake.
Look! Fran yelped after they d gone another ten
yards.
What? Libby stood on the brakes.
I can see some police tape over there. Fran pointed
to her left. There must be a turning. Do you suppose
that s it?
Libby inched the car forward. Could be. Bit
unlikely, though. It looks as if it s in the middle of a
field.
But a turning there was, and it led to a slightly wider
lane, at the side of which blue and white police tape
fluttered, tied to two trees. Libby pulled up opposite,
and Fran got out.
Shall I come too? Libby wound down her window.
No, I ll poke around on my own, thanks. Fran
crossed the road and stood with her hands in her
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pockets. Libby lit a cigarette an d waited. Finally, Fran
turned and came back across the road.
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