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to give him the money, after all. ‘Please don’t go to another paper. I believe you.’
    He rewarded me with a gap-toothed smile, ‘Tell your lovely landlady I said hello.’
    Back at the car, I found Annabel carefully rearranging the dealership paper in both foot wells.
    ‘Keep your feet on this,’ she said. ‘The carpet’s new.’
    We drove up the muddy lane, slick with garbage residue. Annabel, cursing under her breath, did her best to steer around numerous, rain-filled potholes.
    After some minutes, she heaved a big sigh. ‘Vicky, Vicky,
Vicky
. What
am
I going to do with you?’
    ‘Pete told me to come.’ I felt six years old.
    ‘You had no business opening a confidential letter,’ Annabel scolded. ‘Ronnie’s not always a reliable informer, but he still belongs to me.’
    ‘The money—’
    ‘Is mine. Pete gives me a small allowance for these little incidentals.’
    I felt jealous. Annabel had an expense account. I didn’t.
    ‘Which reminds me, the envelope, please.’ Annabel took one hand off the steering wheel and held it out, palm side up. ‘I wouldn’t want Pete to think you’ve been stealing money as well as stories from me.’
    Her insult left me speechless. I may have inherited many Hill traits, but theft was not one of them.
    ‘I suggest you forget all about Ronnie Binns and the chickens.’ Annabel laughed. ‘I mean, the countryside is full of them – dead or otherwise.’
    I glanced over at my rival. A complacent smile was on her face. She thought she had me fooled. Fat chance! It was clear to me that whatever the chickens meant to Annabel, she was determined not to share her theories with me.
    It was nearly ten fifteen. ‘Do you mind dropping me off at the church?’ If I walked from the
Gazette
, I’d never make Sir Hugh’s funeral in time.
    ‘No can do. I’ve got to get back to the office.’ Annabel pulled a face. ‘You really must learn to manage your time.’
    ‘If it’s for Pete,’ I said, adding pointedly, ‘there’s no rush. He’s going to wait for that
special
report.’
    ‘What are you talking about?’ Annabel turned pink.
    I yawned, feigning indifference. ‘He told me everything.’
    ‘Pete told
you
about the coroner’s report?’
    This was an interesting piece of information. A coroner’s report put a completely different slant on matters. ‘Why
wouldn’t
he tell me?’
    ‘I don’t believe it!’ she snorted. ‘Typical man.’
    ‘I’ve never seen Pete so agitated,’ I said, warming to my theme.
    ‘Well, who wouldn’t be?’ Annabel said with a sniff. ‘If anyone found out, it could cost him his job.’
    The plot was thickening! Getting access to a coroner’s report before the inquest was illegal. ‘Bit risky, isn’t it?’ I said.
    ‘Of course it is, but this is a very special circumstance.’
    I did a mental check of who had died recently and could only conclude it had something to do with Sir Hugh.
    ‘Poor old Trewallyn.’ I bluffed. ‘It’ll be good for us to know the truth.’
    Annabel’s look was pure spite. ‘Pete gave this story to
me
, Vicky.’
    So it
was
connected to Sir Hugh! My hunch was spot on. It seems I have a natural gift for getting information out of people without having to resort to bribery, blackmail, or physical torture.
    ‘Of course it’s your story,’ I said, savouring the rare moment that Annabel’s feathers were so decisively ruffled. ‘I’ll keep my eyes peeled when I go to The Grange after the service and interview the family.’
    ‘Change of plan.’ Annabel shot me a triumphant look and tossed her hair. ‘His wife didn’t want press at the after-service reception, so Pete and I are going tomorrow morning – once we’ve studied the report, of course.’
    I felt as if she had punched me in the stomach. All efforts at being civil vanished. ‘You? Why?
I
do all the funerals. In fact, stop the car. I can walk from here.’ I needed to be alone. ‘Stop the car,
now
.’
    ‘Don’t be childish.