few of them, but that wasn’t surprising. ‘None of the guests are from the village,’ she pointed out. ‘Did any stay over?’
‘Only two couples,’ Phoebe said. ‘Ed and Martha Cooper—Ed’s been a friend of Brad’s for years, ever since we moved to England. He owns a hotel chain, and they live in Cheltenham now.’
‘And the other couple?’ Max asked.
‘Peter and Brenda Driver. I can’t say I know much about them, other than the fact they live in Manchester. I don’t know how Brad knew them.’ She pointed to the list, still in Jill’s hand. ‘Do you think the party is relevant? Do you think one of the guests might have—you know?’
‘We’ve no idea,’ Max said frankly. ‘At the moment, we have no leads at all. But if we talk to these people, they may give us something.’
‘I see.’
‘Are your sons here?’ Max asked. ‘We’d like a word with them, if we may. It’s possible that they might be able to tell us something.’
‘They’ve gone to Rawtenstall. Asda,’ Phoebe explained.
‘Life goes on, doesn’t it? They need to eat.’
‘Of course.’
Jill and Max were preparing to leave when a car was heard slowing to a stop outside.
Phoebe went to the window. ‘Here are the boys now,’ she said, and she sounded resigned, as if she didn’t want her sons involved in any of this.
Doors opened and banged shut as the two boys—adults, Jill reminded herself—brought in bags from the car. They were laughing. Their father had been bludgeoned to death five days ago, and they were laughing.
Phoebe left the room to talk to them and, a couple of minutes later, they followed her into the sitting room.
‘Haven’t you arrested anyone yet?’ Tyler demanded of Max.
Tyler was twenty-one, older than Keiran by two years. Both were tall, dark-haired, good-looking boys, but Tyler was a couple of inches taller and he was the one you noticed. Keiran would blend in a crowd; Tyler was too forceful, and too handsome to be ignored.
‘We’re doing all we can,’ Max assured him. ‘We think your father may have been meeting someone on Wednesday afternoon. Would you know anything about that?’
‘No.’ Tyler answered for both of them.
‘Keiran?’ Jill prompted, but he shook his head.
‘What would we know?’ Tyler demanded of Jill and Max as if they were idiots. ‘We weren’t even here. We only came home when Mum called us with the news.’
‘When does the term finish for Christmas?’ Jill asked.
‘A fortnight on Friday,’ Keiran told her. ‘But because of—everything that’s happened, we’ll stay here until the new year now.’
Jill nodded her understanding.
‘I believe you were intending to spend Christmas here anyway,’ Max said pleasantly. ‘What were you planning to do with your time? Had you decided? Had your father spoken to you? Were you going anywhere or doing anything special?’
‘We’d nothing planned,’ Keiran said.
‘We wouldn’t have seen anything of Dad,’ Tyler added. ‘He’d have been in London. Working. He was always working.’
‘Over Christmas?’ Jill asked doubtfully.
‘Yes. Over Christmas.’
Tyler was the angry young man. Keiran was quieter, and more difficult to fathom. Yet neither seemed as grief-stricken as Jill had expected.
They were no help whatsoever and, half an hour later, Jill and Max stepped outside and left the residents of Kelton Manor to their grief.
‘You’ll let us know as soon as you have something?’ Phoebe called after them.
‘Of course,’ Max promised.
‘I’m out all day tomorrow, but you have my mobile number, don’t you?’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll keep you informed of any developments,’ Max assured her.
Satisfied, Phoebe closed the door.
‘We’ll call in again tomorrow,’ Max said when they were in his car. ‘I want to speak to those boys alone.’
‘We?’ Jill queried.
‘Yes, it won’t take long.’
Max drove them out of the village and they were almost at headquarters when Jill
‘Only two couples,’ Phoebe said. ‘Ed and Martha Cooper—Ed’s been a friend of Brad’s for years, ever since we moved to England. He owns a hotel chain, and they live in Cheltenham now.’
‘And the other couple?’ Max asked.
‘Peter and Brenda Driver. I can’t say I know much about them, other than the fact they live in Manchester. I don’t know how Brad knew them.’ She pointed to the list, still in Jill’s hand. ‘Do you think the party is relevant? Do you think one of the guests might have—you know?’
‘We’ve no idea,’ Max said frankly. ‘At the moment, we have no leads at all. But if we talk to these people, they may give us something.’
‘I see.’
‘Are your sons here?’ Max asked. ‘We’d like a word with them, if we may. It’s possible that they might be able to tell us something.’
‘They’ve gone to Rawtenstall. Asda,’ Phoebe explained.
‘Life goes on, doesn’t it? They need to eat.’
‘Of course.’
Jill and Max were preparing to leave when a car was heard slowing to a stop outside.
Phoebe went to the window. ‘Here are the boys now,’ she said, and she sounded resigned, as if she didn’t want her sons involved in any of this.
Doors opened and banged shut as the two boys—adults, Jill reminded herself—brought in bags from the car. They were laughing. Their father had been bludgeoned to death five days ago, and they were laughing.
Phoebe left the room to talk to them and, a couple of minutes later, they followed her into the sitting room.
‘Haven’t you arrested anyone yet?’ Tyler demanded of Max.
Tyler was twenty-one, older than Keiran by two years. Both were tall, dark-haired, good-looking boys, but Tyler was a couple of inches taller and he was the one you noticed. Keiran would blend in a crowd; Tyler was too forceful, and too handsome to be ignored.
‘We’re doing all we can,’ Max assured him. ‘We think your father may have been meeting someone on Wednesday afternoon. Would you know anything about that?’
‘No.’ Tyler answered for both of them.
‘Keiran?’ Jill prompted, but he shook his head.
‘What would we know?’ Tyler demanded of Jill and Max as if they were idiots. ‘We weren’t even here. We only came home when Mum called us with the news.’
‘When does the term finish for Christmas?’ Jill asked.
‘A fortnight on Friday,’ Keiran told her. ‘But because of—everything that’s happened, we’ll stay here until the new year now.’
Jill nodded her understanding.
‘I believe you were intending to spend Christmas here anyway,’ Max said pleasantly. ‘What were you planning to do with your time? Had you decided? Had your father spoken to you? Were you going anywhere or doing anything special?’
‘We’d nothing planned,’ Keiran said.
‘We wouldn’t have seen anything of Dad,’ Tyler added. ‘He’d have been in London. Working. He was always working.’
‘Over Christmas?’ Jill asked doubtfully.
‘Yes. Over Christmas.’
Tyler was the angry young man. Keiran was quieter, and more difficult to fathom. Yet neither seemed as grief-stricken as Jill had expected.
They were no help whatsoever and, half an hour later, Jill and Max stepped outside and left the residents of Kelton Manor to their grief.
‘You’ll let us know as soon as you have something?’ Phoebe called after them.
‘Of course,’ Max promised.
‘I’m out all day tomorrow, but you have my mobile number, don’t you?’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll keep you informed of any developments,’ Max assured her.
Satisfied, Phoebe closed the door.
‘We’ll call in again tomorrow,’ Max said when they were in his car. ‘I want to speak to those boys alone.’
‘We?’ Jill queried.
‘Yes, it won’t take long.’
Max drove them out of the village and they were almost at headquarters when Jill
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