“What are you talking about?”
“The good, Gooder line won’t work after I’m married.”
“I heard you and Jack were getting hitched. I’m disappointed in him—I thought he had more sense and higher standards.”
“We sent you an invitation, but you didn’t RSVP.”
“I never received—oh, right, another one of your jokes. Where’s Hardy?”
“In the dining room.”
“If this turns out to be a wild goose chase, I’ll take great pleasure in charging you with wasting police time. We already have enough evidence to convict Jardine.”
“Luckily for you, I’m about to stop you sending an innocent man to prison. Hardy is ready to give you a full confession.”
“We’ll see. Don’t go anywhere because we’re going to need to talk to you too.”
“My pleasure, as always, Susan.”
***
There was nothing I enjoyed more than having to wait around Washbridge police station. I’d been left to twiddle my thumbs in a cold interview room all day, and I’d have bet good money that it was Sushi who had turned the heating off.
When I was eventually allowed to leave, there was no sign of Sushi, and certainly no apology or thanks. Instead, she sent a uniformed officer to see me.
“Jill? I’m Steve Pickering. Jack and I worked together a few times. Isn’t it this Saturday that you and he get hitched?”
“It’s supposed to be, but at this rate, I may still be here on Saturday.”
“I’m really sorry about all this. I can’t understand why you’ve been kept here so long.”
I could.
“It’s not your fault, Steve. Do you know what’s happened with Hardy?”
“I shouldn’t really be telling you this, but he’s already been charged with Bill Mellor’s murder.”
“And Chris Jardine?”
“I imagine he’ll be released before the night’s out.”
***
I arrived home just a few minutes before Jack.
“I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon,” he said when he walked through the door.
“Sorry. I’ve been stuck in Washbridge police station all day, courtesy of Sushi. I couldn’t get a signal in there.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but Sushi is definitely off my Christmas card list.”
“You should register a formal complaint.”
“It’s not worth it, and besides, I’m used to dealing with difficult police officers.”
He smiled. “A little bird told me that Graham Hardy has confessed to Bill’s murder, and that Chris is going to be released. I assume you had something to do with that?”
“Look, I’m starving. Why don’t we order in pizza, and I’ll tell you all about it?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
One Minute Takeaway failed to live up to their very high standards, and we had to wait almost ninety seconds for our pizzas to be delivered.
What was the world coming to?
Jack and I sat at the kitchen table, with my laptop.
“This is it.” I pointed to the screen, which was displaying the CCTV footage from the bowling alley. “See, that’s Graham’s ball. And there, the ball that comes back up the chute is Bill’s.”
“What does it matter? They’re identical.”
“It matters because when Graham went around the back to the machine room, he put poison in the fingerholes of Bill’s ball. Then he waited until Bill had played his next two shots, and then pretended to take a phone call.”
“How do you know he didn’t actually get a call? Have you checked his phone records?”
“I didn’t need to. Just watch him. He’s standing near the carousel watching the balls, and then he suddenly hurries over to his jacket and takes out his phone.” I paused the footage.
“So?”
“The noise in that bowling alley is unbelievable when all the lanes are in use. There’s no way he would have heard his phone ring above all that din.”
“You couldn’t know that for sure.”
“True, but it was the first hint that something wasn’t quite right. Watch him now.” I restarted the footage. “Did you see which ball he picked up?”
“That was the one which Bill had just played with.”
“Exactly.”
“He could have just got them mixed up. He was probably stressed after the phone call about his brother.”
“The phone call that never happened?”
“But his brother has been ill.”
“That’s the one part of his story that is true. His brother was taken into hospital, but that was two days earlier.”
“You checked?”
“Of course.”
“So, if I understand you correctly, Graham put the poison in the fingerholes of Bill’s ball when he went in the machine room to free the trapped balls?”
“That’s right. Having worked at a chemical factory for as long as Graham had, I don’t imagine he found it difficult to find a poison that would do the job. I found the glove he’d worn, hidden behind a grille in the machine room.”
“What I don’t get is how Graham knew that he’d have the opportunity to apply the poison. He couldn’t know the balls would get stuck.”
“Whose idea was it to play this series of games between the four of you?”
“Err—Graham’s, I think.”
“I thought as much. He played the odds. He couldn’t be sure when the balls would get stuck, but it was a pretty safe bet that it would happen at some time over a series of five matches. He just had to have enough patience to wait until it did.”
“What about the cigarette butt?”
“Graham had been quietly fuming about Bill for years. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing out to him again in the North of England competition. When he discovered that Bill was seeing Sarah, he saw an opportunity to get rid of him, and to frame someone else for the murder. He put traces of the same poison on the cigarette butt, and dropped it outside Bill Mellor’s house, where he knew it would be found by the police.”
“He might have got away with it too if it wasn’t for my very own intrepid private investigator.”
“My bill will be in the post.”
“Do you take payment-in-kind?”
“Depends what you had in mind.”
“When we’ve finished this pizza, I’ll show you.”
Chapter 18
“I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow.” Jack had forsaken his beloved muesli in favour of an oat and sultana bar.
“We aren’t. You must have had a nightmare.”
“Spending the rest of our lives together isn’t a nightmare. It’s a dream come true.”
“Aren’t you sweet? If you didn’t have a mouthful of oats and sultanas, I’d give you a kiss.”
“Don’t forget we have to be at the hotel at ten this morning, to run through the final arrangements with Marceau.”
“Why do you need me there? You and Marceau have done fine without me until now.”
“This is our last chance to make sure everything is okay. We should both be there.”
“Okay, but I need to drop into the office first. I’ll meet you at the hotel at eleven.”
“Ten.”
“That’s what I said. Ten.”
***
“Jill?” Mrs V looked up from her knitting. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for tomorrow?”
“I’ve only popped in for a while. I’m meeting Jack and the wedding planner at the hotel at ten. How come you’re knitting by hand? Has the app stopped working?”
“I’m done with that new-fangled technology. I told Armi he could have my phone. I’ve managed all these years without one—I can live the few I have left without one too.”
“Any messages for me?”
“Yes, actually. A Mr Christopher Jardine called. I told him that you wouldn’t be in for a couple of weeks. He said to tell you thank you for saving him. He seemed to think you’d know what he meant.”
“I do, thanks. Anything else?”
“No, just that.”
“What do you think?” Winky said. “Blue or green?” He held up first one bow tie and then another.
“Err—blue. Why have you got your tux on today?”
“Just a dress rehearsal. I want to make sure everything is perfect for your big day. I don’t want to let you down.”
Oh bum! As if I didn’t already feel bad enough. Maybe I should have just come clean and told him where the wedding was actually taking place. But how could I? What on earth would people think if they saw a cat, wearing a tux, walking down the aisle behind me?