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Maggie and Delia chatted for a while longer in the café. Delia couldn’t give much information about the mugging because it had happened so quickly. As she recalled the incident, Delia began to get upset, so Maggie didn’t push her for more details.
Once their mugs were empty, Maggie said to Delia, “I’ll see you home. I haven’t got my car with me, but we can get a taxi.”
“Oh no,” Delia argued. “I can’t let you do that. I can get the bus.” Her face fell. “Oh, I can’t get the bus. My purse was in my handbag.”
“I insist on taking you home.” Maggie tapped on her phone.
“And I insist you don’t.” Delia stood up and put her coat on. “But if you could lend me some money for the bus fare, I would appreciate that.”
Maggie said, “You don’t need to get a bus, I’ve already ordered the taxi. I’ve got an account with a local firm. It’ll be here in two minutes.”
“No, I can’t let you do that.”
“It’s already done.” Maggie stood up. “Come on.”
Delia smiled. “This is very kind of you, but you don’t have to come with me.” Her look turned nervous. “Have you got any further with your investigations?”
Maggie recalled the mountain of information waiting for her at home. “I’ve got things to look into.”
“Then you must get on with it as soon as possible,” Delia said. “I will take you up on the taxi ride, but I’ll be fine on my own. And when I get home, I can get a house key from my neighbour. She has a spare. Then I’ll get my locks changed.”
“But,” Maggie started to argue.
“I’ll be fine. I can’t act all feeble and helpless.” Delia gave her a bright smile. “I can phone you when I get home if that would make you feel better?”
“It would.”
Maggie walked Delia to the road where the taxi was due to arrive. When it arrived, Maggie talked to the driver and made sure the fare would be put on her account. Then she said goodbye to Delia. Maggie watched the taxi drive away. She didn’t feel happy about letting Delia go on her own. Perhaps she should follow her in another taxi. Or was that going too far?
She jumped as her phone rang. It was DCI Dexter.
Without even a hello, he said, “I’ve spoken to Elliott. He has an alibi for the time Harvey Chester died. We’ve checked it out.”
“Right,” Maggie said uncertainly. Why was he taking her into his confidence all of a sudden?
He continued, “I’m just about to send an officer over to Delia Chester’s house. He’ll stay there for a few hours to keep an eye on her.” He paused. “I apologise if my earlier manner was a little harsh.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ve just put Delia in a taxi. She’s going to change her house locks.”
“I’ll tell my officer to give her the number of a locksmith who’ll give her a good price.”
Maggie’s suspicions rose. “Why are you being so nice? And so helpful?”
“I’m always like this.” Maggie heard something which sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “Ms Kelburn, is there anything else you’d like to share with me about Harvey Chester?”
“Not at the moment,” Maggie said guardedly. “Is there anything you want to tell me about him?”
“No.”
He ended the call without another word.
That was weird, Maggie mused.
She considered her options. She should go home and get on with her research. She turned in the direction of her bus stop, but then paused. Should she go to Sam’s shop and see him? She could tell him about Delia’s mugging. But as tempting as it was, she couldn’t go running to Sam every time she had a bit of information.
Maggie caught the bus home instead. On the way, she received a call from Delia to say she was safely home, and that a lovely young policeman was going to help her with the house locks.
When she got home, Maggie got stuck in to her research. Sam sent a text later to ask how she was doing. She replied as optimistically as she could, and said everything was moving along at a rapid pace.
Luckily, he didn’t ask her to elaborate.
Maggie went through Harvey’s website and social media posts. She printed out as many group photos as she could find.
A few images caught her eye. That was interesting.
After some deliberation, she phoned Delia. “Sorry to bother you, but did you ever meet a woman called Polly?”
“Polly? What does she look like?”
Maggie did her best to describe the young woman. She ended with, “Polly is in a few photographs which I’ve found online. She’s standing very close to your brother in some of them. A bit too close.”
“Oh!” Delia declared loudly. “Yes! I know who you mean. I saw her at some of the meetings I went to. She was chatting to a little chap. He had a lovely, friendly face. Rosy cheeks. You don’t often see that on a man. And then she was chatting with a tall man. He had a beard. I do know his name because we had a little talk. He’s called Elliott.”
“Did you see Polly talking to your brother?”
“I don’t think so. Did you just say you’ve found some photos of them together?”
“Yes. Polly’s smiling at your brother, but he isn’t smiling back. I just wondered if there was anything between them.”
“I shouldn’t think so. Harvey never had time for relationships. And isn’t Polly young? I doubt she’d be interested in Harvey.”
“Hmm.” Maggie looked again at the photos. The age difference didn’t seem to be an issue with Polly. Not going by the admiring look in her eyes.
Delia said, “Perhaps Polly is just a very friendly person.”
“Perhaps.” Maggie stared at the photo in front of her. Polly looked as if she wanted to be more than friends with Harvey. Maggie needed to talk to Polly very soon.
Maggie settled on the sofa and began to read Harvey’s notebooks hoping to find something useful.