The bearded man thrust out a hand. “Congratulations. He’s a fine-looking fella. I’m Mac. This,” he gestured to the other man in a biker jacket, “is Buster. We’ve been together for nine years but never tied the knot. Can we sit down, buy you a drink, like?”

  “Oh, I see. My name is Adrian. Yes, please do.”

  Buster knelt and offered his hand to Huggy Bear. “All right, wee fella? What you drinking, Adrian? My round.” His grin was so broad Adrian couldn’t help but laugh.

  “We had white wine with lunch, but what would you recommend? Is that cider?” He pointed at Buster’s glass.

  “You’re not wrong there, but it’s the rough stuff. Still got bits of apple floating about. How about I get you a half, see how you get on?”

  “That sounds lovely, yes, please.”

  When Will drove up half an hour later, Adrian was on his second half of cider and in deep conversation with Mac and Buster. Huggy Bear spotted him first and dashed off towards the road although Buster was supposed to have hold of her lead. Luckily, Will caught her and scooped her into his arms.

  “Oh shit, sorry, mate. Took me eye off the ball there. Your dog’s a real character, isn’t he?”

  “No worries. Huggy Bear’s a handful all right, but he’s a she and she’s not our dog. We’re looking after her for a friend.” He passed Huggy Bear to Adrian and held out a hand. “I’m Will.”

  “Hello, Will, pleased to meet you. I’m Buster and this is Mac. We’re on holiday and we’ve been introducing your husband to the local cider.”

  Will shook hands with both men, his smile broad. “You’re touring by bike? That must be a brilliant way to see this area.”

  “The only way!” said Mac, with an expansive gesture at the scenery. “You should come up to the Lakes one of these days. We’ve lived there all our lives and there’s still more to see. Can I buy you a pint, Will?”

  “I’d love to but we’ve got to do the school run to pick up the boy. Thanks anyway.”

  “He’s not our boy, you understand,” said Adrian, draining his cider and getting to his feet. “Another one we’re looking after for a friend. There’s also a cat called Dumpling.”

  Mac nodded his understanding. “Shame you can’t stay. It was good to meet you both.”

  “Bye, Huggy Bear,” said Buster.

  Will smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your trip. You’ve got great weather for it.”

  They said their goodbyes, got into the Audi and Will pressed the button to retract the roof. They waved to the bikers as they drove away.

  Adrian’s head was a bit floaty and he quite fancied a nap in the conservatory when he got to the cottage. “They were nice, weren’t they? When they first came over, my heart was in my mouth, but they turned out to be completely lovely.”

  Will overtook a motorhome and checked his mirrors. “Yeah, they seemed friendly enough. Why did you make such a thing about Luke not being our boy?”

  “What?” Adrian yawned. “I didn’t make a big thing. Just told the truth, like you did about Huggy Bear. You know what, I think I’m a tiny bit drunk.”

  Will laughed, glancing sideways. “That rough cider is lethal. Good job I came back when I did, or after another glass you’d have been dancing on the table and singing Scissor Sisters.”

  “Ooh, yes, let’s have some music. Now we have the top down, can we blast out some George Michael?”

  “If you like. Only till we get back to the village though. I don’t want to rock up outside Luke’s school like Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.”

  The Audi streaked over the moor, wind rippling through both Adrian’s and Huggy Bear’s hair as she sat on his lap, while he and Will joined in the lyrics of ‘Faith’. All three of them wore huge toothy grins.

  Chapter 8

  When Philly, with Tanya’s assistance, had finished her account, Beatrice gave them a moment to compose themselves but maintained the pressure. She knew she would be repeating the same questions the police had asked, but in a more relaxed environment and with a trusted interlocutor, Philly might find something under stones already turned. She asked Tanya to help the men with the food and keep them there until she was ready.

  “Why did you give Tanya that leftover fish? Why not keep it for yourselves? To your knowledge, has Hoagy ever walked in his sleep? Why isn’t the studio locked at night? Surely the most valuable items on this property are stored in there? Why keep the wolfhounds indoors? Aren’t they supposed to be guard dogs? Who else has access to this property? Gardeners, cleaners, anyone else? How secure are the walls? Who are your neighbours? If neither you nor Hoagy is responsible, who do you think could commit such an act? More importantly, who would want to? Philly, in your heart of hearts, who do you believe did this?”

  Philly listened intently, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

  “It’s clear you have a professional background, Beatrice. I feel in capable hands. The reason I gave Tanya the fish was out of kindness. That would have made a nice meal for a couple on a budget. I told her Hoagy never eats leftovers and that Romy won’t touch the stuff. The first was a white lie and the second entirely truthful. Hoagy doesn’t sleep walk because he’s usually drunk. No, he’s always drunk. Most nights he can barely manage to get to the bathroom. The studio is locked. Always. Hoagy keeps the code to the keypad to himself and the only people admitted are by invitation. Access to upstairs is via the outdoor stone steps. The two floors operate independently and there is no internal staircase. It’s a converted grain store, you see. The dogs are pets. They sound, and perhaps with a squint even look impressive, but they are a pair of softies who sleep on the sofa. We do have a cleaner and two gardeners but they buzz for admittance. No one else has a key. Why would they? We’re always here.”

  She surveyed the wall marking the end of the property. “Our neighbours. That’s an interesting question and possibly answers your last point. Our neighbour to the right has offered to buy this property. Bernie Whistler is a British property developer who wants to expand his own estate onto our land. Twice we refused politely, but he has recently become more aggressive and threatening. He’s a rather nasty sort, the classic pub bore with unpalatable political opinions. We avoid each other as much as we can. Physically, he is tall and absolutely strong enough to ... commit such an act. It would play neatly into his hands if Hoagy or I went to jail. But to kill Romy? Could he really be that much of a shit?”

  Beatrice scribbled her notes, her mind lighting up with possibilities. “Thank you, Philly. Can I ask one last impertinent question?”

  “So long as it’s pertinent, you can.” A vague smile lifted her wary expression.

  “Was Romy Hoagy’s lover?”

  Philly’s eyes met Beatrice’s. “I wouldn’t put it that way. Now if you asked that question the other way around, I could say yes. Hoagy loved Romy. He was obsessed with her. He loved her with a desperate passion but whether they consummated that relationship, I honestly don’t know. Some relationships are stronger than sex. His love for her was all-consuming. Hers for him, I couldn’t say.”

  Beatrice gazed at her and could only wonder at the depth of her pain. Perhaps she’d got used to playing second fiddle.

  Philly spoke, her voice low and confidential. “There’s something I haven’t mentioned to anyone else. Quintana has put me under house arrest. Hoagy won’t notice because I rarely go farther than the shops. The police are gathering enough evidence to charge me by the end of this week. We have enough money to pay for lawyers and so on, but I would spend months in custody. Don’t think I’m being self-pitying, I’m not. The fact is, Hoagy would be completely unable to look after himself. The only person actively seeking the real perpetrator is you. We must find who killed her in the next three days. Whatever you need, Beatrice, we can pay for it.”

  Pressure corseted Beatrice’s ribcage. “I understand. I promise you I will do everything in my power. My assistant would be useful as he’s a Spanish speaker and can help me with interviewees.”

  “Summon him instantly. Whatever it takes, I mean it. Please keep my predicament to yourself. If Hoagy thought I was at risk, he’d go to pieces. Thank God Raf is due tomorrow. His presence tends to ground Hoagy more than most. Although he too adored Romy. He’ll be devastated.”

  “Perhaps this Raf chap might find time for a little chat with me. Right now, may I take a walk around the grounds to talk to Tanya? The snacks must be ready and I’m sure you could do with another drink.”

  “Thank you, Beatrice. You restore my faith.”

  The party reformed on the patio with some divine-smelling food, but Beatrice stuck to her discipline and asked Tanya to accompany her on a tour of the garden. An unsubtle ruse which Tanya understood.

  They stepped between two flowery shrubs, avoided the studio and wandered the perimeter wall. Tanya exhaled. “Come on then, I’m ready for my interrogation.”

  “Very well. I just have a few questions. What time did you wake up? Was Gabriel still asleep?”

  Tanya stopped walking, pressed her fingers to her temples, thought for several moments and answered. “I woke up just after eight. Gabriel was fast asleep when I got up. I only meant to go to the bakery, but thought I’d say thank you for dinner with a little note. I decided to bring the Tupperware at the same time.”

  “Did Philly ask you to return the Tupperware in the morning? Or did Gabriel suggest that?”

  “Philly asked me to take the fish because Hoagy won’t eat leftovers and nor will Romy. I believed that. The night before, Romy ate none of the main meal, only the desserts. Philly gave us the fish in a Tupperware and didn’t even mention bringing it back.”

  They continued their walk. “I know it was the first time you met the girl, but what was your impression of Romy and her role in the household?”

  Tanya shot an apologetic glance at Beatrice. “I have to speak as I find. If I met her at home in Devon, I’d say she’s a classic flake. Meeting her here, I’d say she’s a typical European dilettante. Funded by wealthy parents, unable to stick to any imagined ‘career’ and floating around between ski resorts and Mediterranean islands trying to alleviate her own boredom. Her role here, I assume, was as Hoagy’s muse and lover, which Philly alluded to on Monday.”

  “How do you mean, ‘alluded to’ her role?”

  “Romy was openly flirting with Gabe. In the kitchen, when Philly and I were alone, she said something like we should go and rescue my husband as it was too late for hers.”

  Beatrice thought it over. Gabriel was a startlingly attractive man, so it was not a surprise that a young woman would pay him attention. But to flirt with him in front of his new bride was crass in the extreme. “How did Hoagy react to her behaviour?”

  “Hoagy? I didn’t really ...” Tanya hesitated, her head tilting from side to side. “He looked sort of sad, like as if his favourite cat was sitting on someone else’s lap. But somehow resigned at the same time, as if that’s what the cat always did. Does that make any sense?”

  “Yes, it does. Let’s return to the others. I need to ask Theo to join us and then tomorrow I’m going to visit the bloke next door. I already know I’m going to hate him.”

  When they turned the corner to the patio, there was some kind of commotion going on. Hoagy was shouting and gesticulating, Philly was on her mobile, the house phone was ringing and Gabriel was frog-marching someone off the grounds, followed by the dogs. Matthew stood in the kitchen doorway, holding a plate of chick peas and looking bewildered.

  “What is it?” Tanya asked Matthew. “What happened?”

  He seemed relieved to see her. “Journalists. The police must have released the story and there’s a pack of them outside the gate. All the phones are ringing off the hook and one cheeky beggar scaled the gate to get a picture. Gabriel is seeing him off.”

  Tanya broke into a run, heading for Gabriel. Beatrice caught hold of Hoagy’s arm and guided him inside. “Stay off the patio. The last thing you need is a long lens photo of you enjoying a G&T with friends after what happened. Matthew, get Philly in here.”

  The shrill insistence of the telephone frayed her nerves, so she picked up the handset, cancelled the call and left it off the hook. Matthew returned with Gabriel, Tanya and Philly, who was ending her conversation.

  “As soon as possible, please. Tomorrow is the earliest you can manage? All right. No, four people. Two on the gates and two in the grounds. That’s fine. See you in the morning.” She placed the phone on the table. “I’ve hired a security firm. We need protection from these godawful parasites. How dare they give the press the story without warning us! Put the television on, H, I need to know what the police are saying.”

  Beatrice seized her opportunity. “Philly, Hoagy, we’ll leave you to it. I need to make some calls and make a plan of action. If I were you, I’d stay inside and out of view.” She looked at Tanya in enquiry.

  “Yes, we’ll come with you. If you need anything, Philly, you have my number. Take care and see you in the morning.”

  They forced their way out through the throng of cameras and found Matthew the most effective at repelling the microphones thrust in their faces. “Oh, do bugger off!” he shouted and the press pack receded a few steps.

  Two or three followed at a distance for a few paces but when Gabriel turned, opening his palms with a ‘What do you want?’ gesture, they returned to haunt the gates to Alexander Moffatt’s villa.

  “Let’s not go home,” said Tanya. “Why don’t we park ourselves in a nice little restaurant and have something decent to eat? We need to make a battle plan.”

  Gabriel pulled her close. “So glad you said that. I’m starving and also in need of a beer. I’ve drunk more gin in the last two days than I would in a normal month.”

  Once settled in a quiet corner of the garden outside Los Flores, they ordered drinks and relaxed under the canopy of multi-coloured lights. The four of them, so familiar in each other’s company, did not need to make small talk. Instead, the absence of idle chatter came as a welcome break from all the frantic conversations. The waiter delivered two beers for Tanya and Gabriel and two glasses of white wine for Matthew and Beatrice.

  After the toast, Beatrice made her announcement. “I’m going to ask Theo to fly over. Philly assures me the expense is not a problem and I need his skills in Spanish to conduct the interviews with potential suspects.” She chose not to mention the urgency of finding a likely suspect before Philly was arrested and charged. “I just hope he’s physically fit. The Finnish escapade took its toll on the poor boy.”

  “You have suspects?” asked Gabriel, wiping beer foam from his lips.

  “I have several people of interest, let’s put it that way. Unfortunately, one of them is the detective in charge of this investigation.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” asked Tanya. “Obviously we’ll check in at the villa on a daily basis, make sure they’re holding up. But our honeymoon has been postponed for now, so we may as well make ourselves useful. Right, Gabe?”

  Beatrice softened at the couple opposite, so in love and in harmony. She took a swig of wine to mask her emotions.

  “How lovely of you to offer! Yes, there is something you can do. Find out more about Romy’s background. Hoagy said he saw her leading a yoga class on the beach with someone called Miranda. Poke about some yoga studios she might have worked at, dig out where she used to live, if she has any family or close bonds on the island. Then I will tackle the acquisitive neighbour. She wrinkled her nose. “Matthew, would you ask a few questions of Hoagy’s agent, mostly to gain an impression of the chap? When Theo gets here, we’ll interview the ex-muse. It’s my only hope of gaining some sympathy from the police.”

  Matthew had not volunteered to assist, but Beatrice was confident of his support. They each accepted their orders, studied the menu and opted for a family paella and a bottle of Can Catorra. For a couple whose romantic getaway had been diverted, Tanya and Gabriel seemed happy to see them.

  “Do you think Theo will manage to get time off work so soon?” asked Matthew.

  “Time off work? He works for me. As to whether he’s ready to get on another plane, that’s another question.” Beatrice tore into a bread roll and dug out her phone. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

  Chapter 9

  Deià boasted rather more yoga facilities than most small towns, which said more about its guests than its inhabitants. A quick online browse showed Tanya that most hotels employed yoga teachers and there were six private businesses, one of which was run by a woman called Miranda Flynn. Beatrice hadn’t mentioned the surname of Romy’s partner, but that seemed a good place to start. She shared her findings with Gabriel, who was searching the Internet for any detail on Romy’s family, other than her ubiquitous brother.

  “If I see one more picture of that grinning goon, I will puke,” Gabriel grimaced, pointing at an image of Nat Palliser. Tanya observed the racing driver’s triumphant grin as he held up a magnum of champagne.

  “Yuk. He is nauseating. Look, the yoga practice has a class at eleven this morning. I think I might go and join in, if you don’t mind. It’s a while since I’ve done a Downward Facing Dog, but I can remember the basics. I won’t ask any questions, just observe and test the mood.”

  Gabriel reached a hand behind her head and drew her down to kiss him. “In that case, I’ll keep searching, make us lunch and maybe this afternoon, we can sneak off to the beach. Should we invite your dad, as Beatrice is busy?”

  Tanya sat on the arm of his chair. “Maybe we should. He’s been a bit ...” she trailed off, wondering how to voice her concerns.

  He rested his head on her shoulder. “Distracted? I know. I spoke to Will about it on the way home from the Stag Night. He thinks we should keep an eye on him. Although Beatrice doesn’t seem to have noticed a change.”