A Reason to Kill Read Online Free Page B

return to safer ground. ‘The gun. Do you know where she got it from?’
    â€˜I would imagine,’ Rina replied, ‘that it belonged to her husband. Matthew, make the tea, would you, I think the kettle is about to screech. Her husband was a member of the local gun club. Years ago that must have been, but she once showed me trophies he had won. I believe he competed all over the country.’
    â€˜It looked to be quite an old gun,’ Mac mused.
    â€˜Smith & Wesson, thirty-eight, snub-nosed. At one time it was standard US police issue.’
    Mac stared at her. This day was just getting too weird. What was it with elderly ladies in Frantham? Did they all belong to some local militia he hadn’t been told about?
    â€˜
Lydia Marchant Investigates
,’ Steven Montmorency informed him proudly, pointing to the far wall.
    Puzzled, Mac got up to see. ‘Oh, yes.’ Suddenly it all became clear. That vague sense of familiarity he had noted when Rina Martin had let him in. The way she knew about the gun. Well, now it made a little more sense. He studied the black and white publicity shot, comparing it with the woman who faced him across the expanse of scrubbed wooden table.
    â€˜Research?’
    Rina nodded. ‘Weapons of one sort or another showed up in the scripts on a regular basis. I always thought I had a duty to get the detail right, even if the stories were sometimes frankly unbelievable.’
    Mac laughed. ‘My mother loved the series,’ he said. ‘My aunt too.’
    â€˜Not you?’ Rina’s mouth twitched in a half-smile.
    â€˜Mrs Martin, frankly, I can’t watch whodunnits of any kind. They feel too much like homework.’
    Rina laughed then and the stern face was transformed. Mac caught a glimpse of a much younger, much gentler woman. ‘You were very successful,’ he commented. ‘The series ran for years.’
    â€˜More than ten,’ she agreed.
    â€˜You can catch it on satellite and cable most days,’ Matthew Montmorency told him. ‘And sometimes they show it in the afternoons on proper television. Rina, darling, will you set an extra place for our guest? He’s been salivating ever since he came in and if we wait for him to go the pasta will be ruined.’
    Mac had been going to refuse but it rapidly became clear that he had no say in the matter – and besides, he was hungry. He’d never had much of an appetite until coming to Frantham and, as his last posting had also been coastal, he didn’t think he could blame the sea air. Maybe it was all the walking he’d done. His petrol bill had dropped almost to nothing in the past couple of weeks, while his food consumption had rocketed.
    The table in the dining room was set with blue and white china, heavy, old-fashioned cutlery and an odd assortment of pretty but uncoordinated glasses clustered about a large, cut-glass jug. He found himself seated between two women of Rina’s age, he guessed, though they could have been anything from fifty to seventy. Carefully applied make-up and a light blonde rinse to take the edge off the grey confused the issue for Mac, who was not all that good at guessing a woman’s age anytime.
    These two obviously
were
sisters and probably real twins, or at least very close in age. Rina introduced them as Eliza and Bethany Peters as she directed Mac to his seat and placed a basket of fresh rolls on the table, instructing him to help himself.
    â€˜Where’s Tim?’ Rina asked.
    â€˜Marvello is rehearsing,’ said Matthew Montmorency, rolling his eyes in theatrical despair.
    â€˜Marvello?’ Rina looked worried. ‘I thought the booking was for The Great Stupendo? I can’t see them wanting a mind-reading act at a children’s party. Steven, fetch him down, will you, and tell him to hurry.’
    Steven Montmorency exited. He had, Mac noted, an odd, shuffling walk, as though his knees hurt if he bent them