She knew it annoyed me,â she said simply. âThatâs why she did it.â
The police had names for people like this. Natural victims ... blame themselves for all that goes wrong, expect people to pick on them, wait for trouble. And hey presto, Joanna thought, trouble hunts them out as though it could smell them.
âThen what?â she asked.
âShe sat in the car with the radio on very loud. She liked to do that. It made Ben mad. It upset him. She loved to tease him, you see. She loved to see him upset. Heâd foam at the mouth â bark â try to jump over the fence.â Evelyn glanced at Joanna. âHe couldnât, of course. The fence was too high. Then sheâd laugh and mock him, sometimes dangle a bone over the fence and laugh while he tried to catch it in his teeth.â She blinked. âThere was a very mean side to Marilyn, Inspector,â she said. âShe could be cruel ...â
âYou live alone, Mrs Shiers?â She changed tack.
An expression of extreme distaste crossed the womanâs face. âI do,â she said.
âA widow?â
âMy husband and I are ...â there was a quick, hesitant pause, âseparated.â
Joanna drew out her notebook and pencil. âFor how long?â She looked up, waited for the womanâs reply.
âFour years.â
âAnd where is he now?â
Evelyn looked furious. âI donât know,â she said. âI donât care. He isnât here.â
âSo where is he?â
Now the look of the frightened fox was back. She was cornered. âI canât tell you ... I donât know where he is.â
Joanna watched the bristles on her chin. Her head jerked to and fro. Evelyn Shiers was rattled.
She sighed. More questions ... more investigations. And she had the feeling it would all be very hard work. But not now. She stood to leave and watched the other womanâs shoulders drop in relief.
âBy the way,â she said at the doorway. âWe donât know how Marilyn died. Lock your doors, Mrs Shiers. If you see anythingââ
âWhat sort of thing?â the woman demanded.
âAnything. And ring us immediately, if you do.â Joanna gave her the number of the police station and her own extension number. âIâm Detective Inspector Piercy. And Iâll be interested if you remember anything that could have a bearing on this case.â She opened the front door. âIâll probably call round again.â
âIs that the truth, then, Mike?â
They were sitting in her office, drinking coffee.
âWas she just a plump, lonely woman who spun stories, lived in make-believe land, dressed to kill and died?â
He was frowning. âIt could be,â he said cautiously. âThere was nothing in the house to suggest anything else.â
âWhere did all the money come from? The antiques ... plastic surgery ... the house? Her mother isnât dead, is she? So she wasnât left anything.â
Her hand rested on the pile of letters. âMaybe weâd better read these.â She picked one up and handed him another. Her eyes wandered down the page. âA little more money ... I saw the vicar calling in next door last Wednesday. I donât think itâs quite nice for him to call, so late at night, a man of the cloth ... and she was looking very tidy ... Mrs Tolley, three doors away goes out every single Friday night, you know, Marilyn. She thinks I donât see but a car drops her off. I went for a walk myself last Friday just to the end of the road. To get a bit of air. And there he was â the one man in the car. Nobody I recognized. But if Mr Tolley should find out ...â
Joanna slammed the letter down in disgust. She could sense the relish. She picked up another and read more. There were pages and pages of gossip, prying, intimate and insinuating. She dropped the letters and looked at
Serenity Woods
Betsy Ashton
C. J. Box
Michael Williams
Jean Harrod
Paul Levine
Zara Chase
Marie Harte
S.J. Wright
Aven Ellis