Read Murder in the Blood Online

Authors: Lesley Cookman

Murder in the Blood (4 page)

‘And someone ought to tell the consulate in Antalya,' said Ben. ‘And none of us can really do that.'

‘Why don't you ring this Martha and talk to her now?' said Libby. ‘I'm sure if the consulate knows about it, they could intervene if they thought the Jandarma wasn't investigating properly.'

‘Do you really think so?' Justin looked round the table and shook his head. ‘I only came down here to have a word with Neal.'

‘I think they're right, though,' said Neal. ‘Could you call Martha now?'

Justin finished his beer, set the glass down and took out a mobile. ‘OK. Here goes.' He stood up and walked away from the table, and Libby, strain though she might, could overhear none of the subsequent conversation.

‘I wonder what investigations they're actually making?' said Fran, staring thoughtfully out into the darkness.

‘How do you mean?' asked Libby.

‘How did the body get there, for a start. It had to be by boat.'

‘And was he dead before he got there,' said Libby.

‘Libby, it doesn't matter. It's not your problem.' Peter frowned over the rim of his glass.

Libby looked over to where Justin had wandered right down on to the beach. ‘He's taking a long time.'

‘Probably having to explain why a party of English tourists have got involved with people they don't know,' said Ben.

‘I wish I hadn't got involved,' muttered Neal. ‘I should never have recognised his photograph. After all, they already knew who he was.'

‘I expect it was an automatic reaction – you know – “Oh, yes, I've met him” – before you have time to think it through,' said Libby.

‘And it was your duty,' said Fran.

‘What even out here? Neal doesn't even know the man,' said Harry. ‘It's not as if his saying he didn't know would have hindered the Jandarma. They'd have questioned everyone in the village anyway.'

‘But they wouldn't necessarily have known he came from here, unless he'd written his address in his passport. I never do,' said Libby.

Justin came back to the table and stood, looking agitated, beside it. ‘Martha said the Jandarma have already seen her and Ismet. She suggested the British Consul, but apparently the Jandarma brushed it aside. She's going to ring them tomorrow.'

‘All that man wants to do is bury the body and get on with his life,' said Ben. ‘I'm not normally in favour of sticking our noses into places they don't belong, but that would be criminal in itself.'

‘But he'll want to solve it, won't he?' said Guy.

‘I don't think they care much,' said Justin. ‘I don't really know – we get so little crime here.'

He jingled some coins in his pockets, staring out at the sea. ‘Martha said – um – would you like to go up for coffee – or something –'

‘Yes,' interrupted Libby. ‘We would. When?'

‘Tomorrow? I don't think I can fit all you in the car …'

‘We'll get a cab,' said Libby. ‘Where do we go and what time?'

‘Martha said about eleven. Before the lunchtime customers start coming in. It's just called Martha's Place, on the river.'

‘Oh, one of the river restaurants?' said Peter. ‘We wanted to try them.'

‘Will you be there?' asked Harry.

‘I suppose so.' Justin looked glum. ‘Neal?'

‘Do I need to?' Neal sounded nervous.

‘I think so,' said Libby. ‘After all, it was you –'

‘Yes, all right, all right.' Neal stood up. ‘And now I'm going to bed. I'll see you all down here at breakfast.'

He strode off, his rather long face longer than ever.

‘I'll go too,' said Justin, pulling car keys out of his pocket. ‘Er – nice to meet you … ' He trailed off, gave a brief nod and disappeared into the night.

‘Well!' said Libby, looking round at her friends. ‘That was illuminating.'

‘It was?' said Guy.

‘Well, yes. We know who the body was, all about his mother trying to find him and that he's got friends in the village.'

‘Some of whom are very uncomfortable,' said Fran.

‘Who?' said Ben.

‘Neal and Justin. They really don't want anything to do with it, do they?'

‘No,' said Libby slowly. ‘I wonder why.'

‘We can walk,' said Neal Parnham the following morning. ‘It's just at the other end of the bay and up the river road.'

‘How far?' asked Libby. ‘It's very hot.'

‘And no shade along the bay,' said Fran.

‘It takes me about half an hour,' said Neal, ‘but I suppose it is hot. I'll walk and you can share a taxi.' He gave them a quick smile and loped off, Panama tilted forward.

‘I'll go and ask Jimmy to book a taxi,' said Guy.

‘He didn't want to come with us in the first place,' said Libby, as they waited in the shade of the bar.

‘No. Do you think he'll turn up?' asked Fran.

‘Debatable,' said Ben with a shrug. ‘It doesn't really matter if he doesn't.'

‘Of course it does!' said Libby.

‘Not really,' said Peter. ‘He didn't know the man. He's on holiday like us, this Alec Wilson was a casual acquaintance.'

‘How casual?' said Harry. ‘Could it have been …?'

‘Sex? Possibly. I don't see that it matters,' said Peter.

‘Here's the taxi,' said Guy.

Further along the bay, where there were no hotels or bars, just beach, sea, and mountains that ran down to the road, they passed Neal, striding along, head down. They waved, he looked up and lifted a hand.

‘Not that overjoyed to see us,' said Ben.

‘At least he's going in the right direction,' said Fran.

Martha's Place, the middle one of three restaurants on the shallow river that ran through the village, was reached by a bridge that looked a lot more unstable than it actually was. Trees lined both banks and shaded the tables that were set on pontoons in the water, attended by ducks and the occasional goose. Below them against the bank sat a row of kösks, the covered Turkish outdoor seating areas. Justin was waiting for them on the other side of the bridge at the head of the steps that led to the pontoons, a comfortable-looking middle-aged woman with plaited grey hair by his side.

‘This is Martha,' said Justin.

‘Hello,' said Martha, beaming at them. ‘Come on down and let's get you something to drink. What would you all like?'

A small waiter was sent scurrying to procure coffee all round, and Martha led them to a table in the middle of the river.

‘This is wonderful,' said Libby, gazing round. ‘I've never seen anything quite like it.'

‘Beautiful, isn't it?' agreed Martha. ‘We're very lucky.'

‘Have you been here long?' asked Guy. ‘Only I was told that there was only one river restaurant when I came to the bay some years ago.'

‘Yes, we were the first.'

‘And you knew Alec Wilson,' prompted Fran.

The beaming face fell. ‘We did. I can't believe … any of this.'

‘We felt the Jandarma weren't really concerned to look into the death properly,' said Ben. ‘About his mother, for instance.'

Martha's face lightened. ‘I've spoken to the consulate in Antalya this morning, and they are going to intervene. I don't think the locals were even going to do an autopsy.'

‘But he was drowned, is there any point?'' said Harry.

‘You know better than that, Hal,' said Peter. ‘They need to know if he was dead before he went into the water.'

‘And he must have been,' said Libby. ‘No one could have tied that bag to his waist if he'd been alive – or conscious.'

‘Do you know anything about his mother?' asked Fran. ‘She ought to be told.'

‘He never even told me her name,' said Martha sadly, shaking her head. ‘He told me she'd found him, and that was all.'

Everyone except Martha looked at Harry, who smiled.

‘They're all worried about me,' he explained. ‘I found out about my childhood only last year, so it's a bit close to home.'

‘Oh.' Martha looked mildly confused, but the moment passed with arrival of the small waiter and the coffee. ‘English coffee,' she said. ‘Not Turkish. Ismet likes the Turkish, but I can't stand it.'

‘What did the consulate say about finding his mother?' asked Fran.

‘They said there must be some evidence in his house, but they didn't know if it had been searched properly.' She shook her head again. ‘Ismet says he's pretty sure it wouldn't have been.'

‘What about how he got out to that cave?' said Guy. ‘Someone with a boat must have taken him out there.'

‘Alec had a boat himself, but the Jandarma said it was still beached.'

‘Someone would have heard an engine though, don't you think?' said Guy.

‘I doubt it. Unless they lived right by the water's edge. And a boat taken out at night wouldn't have gone from the part of the beach by the hotels.' Martha sighed. ‘It must have been a local. Nobody else would have known where to get a boat, or how to take it round the headland.'

‘Or how to get a body down to the boat,' said Libby.

‘Unless the body was still alive when it got into the boat,' said Ben.

Chapter Five

They all looked at him in surprise.

‘You mean he took himself out there?' said Libby.

‘Why not?'

‘But why on earth would he take a boat out at night with someone else?' asked Harry.

‘To show them something? Is there anything around you could only see at night?'

‘I don't think so,' said Martha doubtfully. ‘They go night fishing sometimes, but I don't remember Alec ever doing it.' She looked up and waved. ‘Here's Neal, look. Alec did show him around a bit, I think.'

Neal came down the steps to the pontoon, panama hat in hand. He bent to kiss Martha on both cheeks.

‘We were just wondering, Neal,' said Martha, ‘if Alec would have taken his boat out at night. Do you think he would?'

‘I don't know. I never went out on his boat.' Neal pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘I ordered coffee on my way down. I hope you don't mind.'

‘Martha's been in touch with the consulate,' said Justin. ‘They're going to intercede with the Jandarma. They need to trace Alec's new-found family.'

‘They need to search his house, then,' said Neal. ‘He didn't tell anyone the names of these people?'

‘No. Unless he told Sally,' said Martha. ‘She might know.'

‘Somebody mentioned her last night,' said Libby.

‘Where does she live?' asked Fran.

‘Outside the village on the way to the coast road. I could ring her.' Martha stood up. ‘I'll go and find her number.'

While they waited for Martha to return, they studied the menu which had been left on the table and decided to stay for lunch.

‘No reply, so I've left a message,' said Martha, coming back to the table. ‘Did you want to eat?'

After orders had been taken, and Neal had declined, he stood up again. ‘I'm going back to the hotel. I'll see you all later.'

They watched him cross the bridge in silence.

‘Well, now.' Libby sat back in her chair. ‘Why did he bother to walk all this way, stay for five minutes, and go again? His behaviour really is peculiar.'

‘I think the whole thing has knocked him for six,' said Peter. ‘It looks to me as though he and this Alec were having an affair.'

‘You could hardly call it that,' said Harry. ‘He was here on holiday. It was a holiday fling if anything.'

‘What do you think, Justin?' Libby turned to look at him. ‘You introduced them, didn't you?'

Justin nodded.

‘So did they see more of each other after that?'

‘Yes, but I don't know anything more than that. Alec took Neal out a few times, but just to show him the country, really.'

‘That's what it was, then,' said Libby confidently. ‘An affair.'

During lunch the lady with the pink hair and her bushy-moustached husband arrived at restaurant. They stopped on the steps leading to the pontoon.

‘I can't get down there,' said Bushy Moustache. ‘Damn silly place for a restaurant.'

‘We can sit here, then, look.' Pink Hair indicated a table on the same level as the steps. ‘Then you won't have to use the steps.' She looked over and waved at the rest of the hotel contingent. ‘Hello, there!'

They all waved back.

‘Thank goodness he doesn't like the steps,' muttered Libby. ‘Otherwise they might have joined us.'

‘He's too grumpy to want to join anyone,' said Harry. ‘Have you noticed, if there's a conversation in the bar he just sits and stares off into the distance and has to have everything repeated? He just doesn't take any notice.'

‘I think he's probably a bit deaf,' said Fran. ‘And doesn't want to admit it.'

‘That's charitable,' said Libby. ‘But is it enough to make him so grumpy? He doesn't like anything, does he? Have you seen the way he turns up his nose when he's offered something? He doesn't like fish because of the bones, he doesn't like shakshuka because of the texture, and sometimes he just takes one look at a menu and says there's nothing there he could eat.'

‘And yet they've been here before.' Peter shook his head. ‘Makes you wonder. Why don't they just go and stay in Bournemouth?'

‘Poor old Bournemouth,' said Guy.

‘What exactly is shakshuka?' asked Ben.

‘Aubergine, pepper, tomato, and potato, basically,' said Harry. ‘Didn't you try it the other evening when Jimmy put out all the mezze?'

‘No.' Ben looked sheepish. ‘I'm as bad as him. I didn't fancy the look of it.'

‘It's gorgeous,' said Libby, dreamily.

Other books

Wicked Innocence by Missy Johnson
Tales of Jack the Ripper by Laird Barron, Joe R. Lansdale, Ramsey Campbell, Walter Greatshell, Ed Kurtz, Mercedes M. Yardley, Stanley C. Sargent, Joseph S. Pulver Sr., E. Catherine Tobler
High-Speed Showdown by Franklin W. Dixon