Classic in the Barn by Amy Myers

to subtly switch to the Davises when he saved me the trouble. ‘You found poor Polly’s body, didn’t you, Jack?’
    â€˜Yes. Right by the Lagonda. Remember we talked about it at the Wheatsheaf?’
    He nodded. ‘That seems to be coincidence, though. I heard they’d arrested some Polish farmhand.’
    â€˜A bad time for you. The Davises were friends of yours, you said.’
    â€˜Good friends.’ He hesitated. ‘I hadn’t seen much of Polly since Mike’s death though. Busy lady, that.’
    I took the plunge. ‘And a lively one. I heard a few rumours . . .’ This was a risky ploy, as Peter was hardly likely to open up on Polly’s sex life, and it could well rebound on my head, with him telling me to go to hell.
    Luckily, he took it in his stride. ‘There always are, especially with someone of Polly’s character and background. Don’t believe them. She was a very attractive woman and had had a high-profile TV career. Rumours attach themselves automatically in such cases, just like leeches. Mike knew that. She knew it.’
    â€˜Sorry, just the car crime detective in me,’ I said. ‘If I hear something, I feel bound to follow it up. Could there be any unfinished business left over from Mike’s death that could have led to Polly’s? That’s if it wasn’t this Polish chap. He sounds as if he could be a bad ’un.’
    He considered this carefully. ‘Perhaps. Mike sailed near the wind on occasion. He used to tease me about being an old fuddy-duddy where business was concerned.’
    â€˜By “sailing near the wind” you’re implying some of his classics weren’t exactly legit?’
    â€˜There were rumours, especially when he died. But nothing came of them. There was even a rumour that Polly didn’t seem to have inherited quite as much as Mike would have left, if you see what I mean.’
    I did. ‘Illegit cash?’
    â€˜Quite. For months there were stories that he had it stashed away somewhere.’
    â€˜Swiss bank account?’
    â€˜Possibly, but knowing Mike I think it would have been more tangible than that.’
    â€˜Polly didn’t seem to me to have an extravagant lifestyle. Indeed, the very fact she needed to start a picture framing business seemed odd to me.’
    A pause, and I could see something weighing on his mind. ‘Now about my Merc, Jack . . .’
    At that point his wife made her appearance and was introduced as Jill. From the Audi convertible, I’d set her down as perhaps a trophy second or maybe third wife, but no such thing. Whether wife number one, two or three, she was about the same age as Peter and had gardener written all over her – literally, as she was wearing one of those huge aprons doled out in the Christmas-present catalogues, emblazoned with ‘Gardener at Work’.
    All talk of Polly and Mike Davis stopped as we returned to the subject of the Merc. As I drove away, however, I kept coming back to the Lagonda. These rumours of Mike’s money – could it be stashed inside some secret pocket? It was possible, I supposed, but unlikely. All the same, the niggle remained, and I became more and more determined to take another look at it.
    At that point fate played into my hands. Once back at Frogs Hill, I had a call from Zoe as soon as I walked in the door of the farmhouse. ‘I’ve had Bea on the phone,’ she said almost accusingly. ‘I came home yesterday because she said she could cope, but she’s heard the bad news about Tomas being out on bail and wants me to go back for a few days. I’m going over there now to see how things are.’
    â€˜Sure. Can I come?’
    She considered this rather too long for politeness. ‘Don’t see why not. She wants you as her private eye, after all. I’ll get my stuff and see you there.’ She rang off, and I thought I should give Bea