Jace asked, smiling, trying to ingratiate himself. “I don’t know her.”
“Of course not! She was four owners ago.” The woman was glaring at him as though he was taking up too much of her time. “Now, if you don’t need anything else…”
“Actually, I’d like to look around. At other subjects. If I might be allowed to do so, that is.”
She didn’t answer, just turned away. Jace took the box and set it on a table. What he really wanted to see was a local newspaper for the day after Stacy died. He wanted to know what had been written about her and who had been involved.
He knew the librarian could answer many of his questions about where to start looking, but he also knew she’d probably call Mrs. Browne five minutes later. And ask her permission? Jace wondered. Would the librarian ask Mrs. Browne if it was all right for Jace to look at three-year-old newspapers?
He found what he wanted without asking and put the newspaper on the microfilm reader.
The day after Stacy’s body was found, the headlines had been about the local garden contest, so her death was on the bottom of the second page. He felt some resentment that her death wasn’t front-page news, but he was also glad that speculation about Stacy hadn’t been made the center of attention. Her death had been dealt with quietly and with dignity, he thought.
The story was written by Ralph Barker. The paper was written, edited, and printed by him. He wrote the name and address down in his notebook.
He knew he was dawdling to postpone reading the story. Taking a deep breath, he began. It was a straight news story, just the facts given, no melodrama, no speculation.
At 3:00 p.m. on 12 May 2002, the body of Miss Stacy Evans, an American woman aged twenty-seven years, had been found above the Leaping Stag pub by the owner’s wife, Mrs. Emma Carew. Mrs. Carew told constable Clive Sefton that Miss Evans had come into the pub about midnight and asked if she could rent a room for the night. Mrs. Carew said that Miss Evans looked the “worse for wear” as her blouse was torn at the shoulder and she had makeup under her eyes as though she’d been crying. Mrs. Carew asked her if she was all right. Miss Evans said she was, just that she was very tired and wanted a long sleep. She asked not to be disturbed the next morning and said that if she had to pay for two nights she would. Mrs. Carew said she could smell liquor on her breath, so she figured the woman had been drinking and didn’t trust herself to drive. As Miss Evans went up the stairs, she tripped.
The next day, when Mrs. Carew heard nothing from Miss Evans, she began to worry. Her husband, pub owner George Carew, told her to leave Miss Evans alone, but Mrs. Carew wouldn’t. She used her master key to open the door, but found it chained shut. She said she could see Miss Evans sprawled across the bed and her instinct told her the woman was dead. She called the police.
Constable Clive Sefton arrived on the scene at 3:06 p.m. and he and Mr. Carew broke into the room. Miss Evans was dead.
Constable Sefton found Miss Evans’s handbag, removed her passport, then called the number listed to be used in case of an emergency.
The article said that, pending investigation, Miss Stacy Evans’s death was apparently a suicide.
Jace fast-forwarded through two days of newspaper pages filled with articles and photos about the village garden contest. He noticed that there was no mention of his house or Mr. Hatch’s beautiful garden at Priory House in the contest.
Three days after Stacy’s death, he found a second article, this time on page six, again at the bottom. It briefly recounted the original story, then said that Miss Evans’s married sister, Mrs. Regina Townsend, had flown to Margate to take the body home to the United States. When questioned, Mrs. Townsend told Constable Sefton that her sister had been despondent for quite some time, that she had committed to getting married, but was having second
“Of course not! She was four owners ago.” The woman was glaring at him as though he was taking up too much of her time. “Now, if you don’t need anything else…”
“Actually, I’d like to look around. At other subjects. If I might be allowed to do so, that is.”
She didn’t answer, just turned away. Jace took the box and set it on a table. What he really wanted to see was a local newspaper for the day after Stacy died. He wanted to know what had been written about her and who had been involved.
He knew the librarian could answer many of his questions about where to start looking, but he also knew she’d probably call Mrs. Browne five minutes later. And ask her permission? Jace wondered. Would the librarian ask Mrs. Browne if it was all right for Jace to look at three-year-old newspapers?
He found what he wanted without asking and put the newspaper on the microfilm reader.
The day after Stacy’s body was found, the headlines had been about the local garden contest, so her death was on the bottom of the second page. He felt some resentment that her death wasn’t front-page news, but he was also glad that speculation about Stacy hadn’t been made the center of attention. Her death had been dealt with quietly and with dignity, he thought.
The story was written by Ralph Barker. The paper was written, edited, and printed by him. He wrote the name and address down in his notebook.
He knew he was dawdling to postpone reading the story. Taking a deep breath, he began. It was a straight news story, just the facts given, no melodrama, no speculation.
At 3:00 p.m. on 12 May 2002, the body of Miss Stacy Evans, an American woman aged twenty-seven years, had been found above the Leaping Stag pub by the owner’s wife, Mrs. Emma Carew. Mrs. Carew told constable Clive Sefton that Miss Evans had come into the pub about midnight and asked if she could rent a room for the night. Mrs. Carew said that Miss Evans looked the “worse for wear” as her blouse was torn at the shoulder and she had makeup under her eyes as though she’d been crying. Mrs. Carew asked her if she was all right. Miss Evans said she was, just that she was very tired and wanted a long sleep. She asked not to be disturbed the next morning and said that if she had to pay for two nights she would. Mrs. Carew said she could smell liquor on her breath, so she figured the woman had been drinking and didn’t trust herself to drive. As Miss Evans went up the stairs, she tripped.
The next day, when Mrs. Carew heard nothing from Miss Evans, she began to worry. Her husband, pub owner George Carew, told her to leave Miss Evans alone, but Mrs. Carew wouldn’t. She used her master key to open the door, but found it chained shut. She said she could see Miss Evans sprawled across the bed and her instinct told her the woman was dead. She called the police.
Constable Clive Sefton arrived on the scene at 3:06 p.m. and he and Mr. Carew broke into the room. Miss Evans was dead.
Constable Sefton found Miss Evans’s handbag, removed her passport, then called the number listed to be used in case of an emergency.
The article said that, pending investigation, Miss Stacy Evans’s death was apparently a suicide.
Jace fast-forwarded through two days of newspaper pages filled with articles and photos about the village garden contest. He noticed that there was no mention of his house or Mr. Hatch’s beautiful garden at Priory House in the contest.
Three days after Stacy’s death, he found a second article, this time on page six, again at the bottom. It briefly recounted the original story, then said that Miss Evans’s married sister, Mrs. Regina Townsend, had flown to Margate to take the body home to the United States. When questioned, Mrs. Townsend told Constable Sefton that her sister had been despondent for quite some time, that she had committed to getting married, but was having second
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