Page 44 of A Village Theatre Murder
Hayley, phone still to her ear, nodded, and he stepped into her office.
‘Brian?’ Julia’s voice was pure astonishment.
It was the same young man who had delivered Oscar’s flowers to Julia the previous week, the one who Julia had embarrassingly mistaken for Hayley’s date. Blushing at the memory of her crazy assumption, Julia noticed that Hayley was a similar shade of pink, presumably on account of the admirer who was sending what appeared to be a very nice basket of fruit, chocolates and other treats.
Brian, wearing the same black jeans and black leather jacket as last time, was the only one not flushed with embarrassment. He gazed around, looking for a place to set the basket down. It was a hopeless search.
‘I’ll take it,’ said Julia, reaching for it. ‘Thank you.’
Brian handed it over with relief and beat a hasty retreat.
Now, Julia was left with the problem of finding a clear space amongst the drifts and slopes of Hayley’s paperwork. There was no such thing, so she put it on the floor in the corner, noting the lovely selection – a slab of macadamia nut brittle looked particularly tempting. There was a note card attached, which, sadly, Julia was not able to read at this distance. Who, she wondered, was the generous soul behind the gift? And why had they sent it? Was it Hayley’s birthday? No, that was definitely early in the year. She noticed the brilliant white orchid that she’d seen on her last visit to Hayley. That had been a gift, too, that Cherise had mentioned. Was it from the same person? Did Hayley Gibson have an admirer?
Hayley, meanwhile, had made another call and was speaking: ‘What time was the meeting? Right. Yes, I know, he’s very punctual…Yes, I tried his mobile too…Well, when he comes in, will you ask him to phone me? Thank you.’
Hayley ended the call and squinted into the middle distance, as she tended to do when deeply considering a problem.
‘Well, I suppose I should be on my way,’ Julia said. ‘Enjoy your goody basket, Hayley.’
Julia had hoped to perhaps prompt some explanation as to the basket’s provenance, but Hayley looked at it as if she’d forgotten it was there, and said, ‘Thanks.’
‘It looks delicious.’
‘It does.’
Julia could contain herself no longer: ‘Hayley, do you have an admirer? A beau?’
Hayley wore the funny, squiffy expression of someone trying to suppress a smile. ‘Yes, Julia, I do indeed.’
Julia waited expectantly, an encouraging smile on her own face, but no further information was forthcoming. In fact, a frown appeared on Hayley’s forehead. ‘I need to speak to Roger Grave urgently.’
Julia hoped she wasn’t sending the detective on a wild goose chase.
‘Jane Powell – the victim’s widow – is being detained for questioning, on my orders. If there’s another narrative, another theory, I need to hear it. If there’s another suspect, I need to get that poor woman out of there. And for that, I need to see Roger Grave. His input could be key to solving this case. And he’s chosen this very day to disappear. He didn’t go to work. He missed a meeting. And he’s not answering his phone. Very unusual behaviour.’
‘That is odd, isn’t it?’ said Julia. ‘From my experience of him at the theatre, he’s utterly punctual and reliable.’
‘Likewise, at work. I’m concerned,’ said Hayley. ‘I’m going to swing by his house and see if he’s there.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes.’ Hayley was on her feet now, shoving first one arm and then the other into her coat. She took a step towards the door, grabbing her handbag as she went. ‘Damn.’ She stopped short.
‘What is it?’
‘My car is in the garage. They’re fixing the brakes. Again. I’ll have to phone Walter Farmer, see if there’s a car available.’
‘I can give you a lift. My car’s right outside. It’s no trouble, the drive is only ten minutes or so. I’ll tell Wilma I will be at the shop a bit later than I thought. They’ll manage fine without me.’
Hayley appeared to be weighing up her options. Her conundrum was clear – she didn’t want Julia tagging along on police business, but getting a lift from her would be the simplest and quickest solution to her transport problem.
‘Okay, thanks,’ she said, quite ungraciously. ‘I want to see if Roger’s home, and if he’s okay, and then question him.’
Julia hadn’t thought, when she had initiated this whole situation, that she would be present when it played out. Now she felt rather nervous. Grave, in his Regional Superintendent persona, was quite scary – and here she was, implying he might be involved in a murder. ‘Well, they’re not really theories, more like…I suppose, observations…’
‘Let’s go.’
Hayley was a brisk walker, and Julia had to trot to catch her up.
