Smile and be a Villain Read Online Free Page A

Gering, do you think you could take my wife back to our B & B? I’m not sure she’s up to walking.’
    â€˜Certainly, sir, and you, too.’
    So we were driven back in comfort. Alan gave Mr Gering one of his cards, in case the police needed more information from us, and then I collapsed onto the bed.
    â€˜I’m going out to get you something cold to drink. And what about some food? It’s nearly lunchtime. I think part of your trouble is hunger.’
    I didn’t feel hungry, just hot and tired and shaky, but … ‘You’re probably right. Low blood sugar. I don’t want to go out, though. Just get something we can eat here.’
    While he was gone I mustered enough energy to strip off my filthy clothes and take a shower. Clad only in my nightgown I felt much cooler and considerably refreshed, but I fretted. I fear I’m rather an accomplished fretter. At the front of my mind was concern about the poor man on the cliff. I hoped they’d get him off soon. Not that it mattered to him now. I did know that, with my intellect, but my emotions wanted him to be out of the sun, away from the flies, to a place where he could rest in peace. Which was idiotic, so I turned to the concern at the back of my mind, which was laundry.
    We hadn’t been able to pack very many clothes, because of the weight limit for baggage on that tiny plane. And as I had no idea what laundry facilities might be available on the island, I’d carefully chosen shirts and pants that could be made to work, in various combinations, for two weeks. Now one of those outfits was out of the loop on the very first day. There was no question of rinsing out either garment in the bathroom basin. The dirt was ground in.
    Well, that worry was idiotic, too, now that I thought about it. I’d just have to find a laundromat somewhere. Doing laundry wasn’t the way I’d planned to spend my holiday, but needs must.
    I had reached that conclusion when Alan came back with a couple of pasties from the bakery, along with lots of fruit and two cold bottles of orange juice. ‘
And,
’ he said triumphantly, holding up a plastic-wrapped package, ‘dessert.’
    â€˜Ooh! Looks lovely.’ I took it from him. ‘Lemon drizzle cake? Is that from the bakery, too?’
    â€˜No, from a small stand on the street. Up a few yards from here there’s a wicker basket sitting on a little table, with several sorts of baked goods and a jam jar for the money. Two pounds, this was, and I’d say a great bargain, if it tastes as good as it smells.’
    It did. Everything was wonderful, and I ate far too much, but I felt considerably better when I’d finished.
    â€˜There’s enough cheese and fruit and cake left for our supper, if we don’t want to go out.’ I found an empty drawer where we could stash our food. ‘It’s cool enough that everything will keep.’
    â€˜I was thinking we might like to try the Indian restaurant up the street. Nellie Gray’s, it’s called. I had a look in the window and it seems pleasant.’
    â€˜Funny name for an Indian place, though. I wonder—’
    Alan’s mobile rang.
    He answered and mouthed at me, ‘Police.’ The conversation was very brief and for me, listening only to Alan’s end, not very informative. Alan clicked off and said, ‘That was PC Partridge, the man we saw first. He wants to come up and talk to us. He’s only a few minutes away, so you’d best hustle into some clothes, love.’
    It doesn’t take long to get into jeans and a tee. Alan and I went down to the little lounge to meet the constable.
    He had some disquieting news for us.
    â€˜It seems, Mrs Martin, that the accident victim was an American. There are very few American visitors on Alderney just now. Well, at any time, really. Most of our tourists come from France or the UK. So I wonder if you might have any connection with