Murder in the Cotswolds Read Online Free Page A

involved in an accident.” Kate doled out the information sparingly, observing his reactions.
    “Accident? What kind of accident?” McLeod opened the door and climbed down. He was of medium height, spare-framed, his features a little too large for his face. He carried an air of brisk authority, as if, perhaps, he’d had an army career.
    “Sometime last evening Mrs. Latimer was knocked down by a vehicle which didn’t stop. She must have been killed outright.”
    “Killed? Good God!”
    “This officer tried to contact you earlier this morning, Mr. McLeod, when the body was discovered. But there was nobody at home.”
    “I live alone, and I’m always out and about early.” He was fingering his bristly moustache, seeming uncertain.
    “We’re hoping that you can tell us the whereabouts of Mr. Latimer.” Kate observed that Jack Farrow had moved unobtrusively to where he could scrutinise the front of the Range Rover for any sign of damage.
    “He’s in London. I saw him setting off yesterday morning.”
    “Where is he staying in London? Do you happen to know?“
    “Afraid not.”
    “A hotel, would you think? Or with friends?”
    “I’ve really no idea. Sorry I can’t help.”
    “When did you last see Mrs. Latimer, Mr. McLeod?”
    “Yesterday morning. She dropped in at the estate office round about eleven.”
    “And did you notice anything unusual about her manner? Anything out of the ordinary?”
    He shrugged. “No, she was her usual self.”
    “I see. Well, that’s all for the present, thank you.”
    McLeod stood watching as they moved off in the patrol car.
    “I noticed that he didn’t bother to enquire where the accident had occurred,” Kate remarked.
    “No more he did, ma’am. Is he our man, you reckon?”
    “That’s the big question, Jack.”
    As they were about to turn onto the driveway, Kate swung the rear-view mirror so she could look back. With interest, she saw Bruce McLeod heading purposefully for the Wests’ cottage.
     
    * * * *
     
    “What’ve you been saying to her?” Ted West had demanded, the moment he was alone with his wife.
    “Nothing special.”
    Tension pricked between them. “That bloody woman copper is too damned nosy for my liking,” he muttered. “Coming charging round here like that. You didn’t tell her anything?”
    “What d’you take me for?”
    “Are you sure? Them and their trick questions.”
    “She didn’t want to know anything about us, Ted. Leastways, except for asking how I got on with Mrs. Latimer.”
    “What did you say?”
    “Same as you did, that she was a real nit-picker to work for.”
    Ted scowled. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Me and my big mouth.”
    “Everyone knows what that cow was like, Ted. What good would it do for us to make out we got on with her fine?”
    “What I always say is, the less the coppers know, the better.” He picked up the teapot and started to pour, then looked with disgust at the varnish that came out. “Make some more, can’t you?”
    They fell silent, both thinking their own thoughts. A sharp rap on the front door nearly made Linda spill boiling water from the kettle. Uninvited, the caller came walking in.
    “I saw the police leaving,” said Bruce McLeod. “What did they want with you?”
    Ted turned a no-love-lost look on him. “They were asking if we knew where Mr. Latimer was. You’ve heard what’s happened, I suppose?”
    “Yes, I heard.” McLeod paused, considering. “I hope you didn’t go blabbing your mouth off about all and sundry in your usual style, West.”
    “Huh! If you mean about her ladyship giving you the push, how long d’you think you can keep that quiet?”
    “She didn’t dismiss me. I resigned.”
    “That’s a bloody lie, McLeod. She only gave you three months’ notice because that was in your contract.”
    The other man’s face flamed with rage, and Linda said peaceably, “Now then, Ted, don’t start on that. It’s none of our business.”
    “Why don’t you