Free Murder in Midwinter by Lesley Cookman Page A

mean?’
    ‘By the look of it, she was cataloguing what she’d got here,’ said Fran. ‘Yes, look, this folder’s labelled 1920s.’
    ‘Do you want to open it?’ Libby asked Bella. ‘It’s your Aunt, after all.’
    ‘Go on,’ said Bella. ‘I don’t want to.’
    The folder, when opened, contained details of programmes, costumes, names and letters.
    ‘They’ll all be in those box files, I expect,’ said Libby, going to the shelves. ‘They might tell you where Maria and your father spent that time when Dorinda was abroad, if that’s what you want to know.’
    ‘Show me what to do, Fran,’ said Bella, getting up and going over to peer at the screen. ‘Then perhaps if I find the right date I can find the right file.’
    Fran gave Bella a quick lesson in how to start up the computer and how to open the folders.
    ‘Now I know, I can go through it later,’ said Bella. ‘It’s too cold to stay out here now. I’ll have to find a heater.’
    ‘There’s an electric radiator over here, said Libby. ‘Shall I switch it on?’
    ‘OK – yes.’ Bella came over to have a look. ‘She must have spent a lot of time here.’
    ‘Yes, and after she wrote that letter to you,’ said Fran. ‘When was it dated?’
    ‘Five years ago.’
    ‘She wanted to get things in order for you,’ said Fran. ‘I expect she intended to write again and tell you all about it.’
    Bella nodded. ‘It doesn’t help Inspector Connell, though, does it?’
    ‘No, not on the surface. But you don’t know what you might turn up,’ said Fran. ‘I’m sure there’s something.’
    ‘Sure sure?’ said Libby. ‘Or hope sure?’
    Fran smiled. ‘I can feel something, but I’m not certain what it is. If Bella comes across anything in all this that she feels might be useful, I’ll have a go at it.’
    Bella, under Fran’s guidance, closed down the computer, turned off the light but left the radiator on.
    ‘I’ll come out here later, when I’m feeling stronger,’ she said, as she led the way back inside March Cottage. ‘I’m a bit shell-shocked at the moment.’
    ‘I can imagine,’ said Fran. ‘I’ve had that sort of experience myself.’
    ‘But you can’t feel anything that might help me in here?’
    ‘It feels a contented sort of home,’ said Fran guardedly. ‘I’ll have to think about it. Tell you what,’ she stopped in the act of putting on her coat, ‘can you give me something of Maria’s? It might help.’
    ‘Something? Do you mean the letter? Because –’
    ‘No, not the letter. That’s too personal.’ Fran looked round the room and lit on a framed photograph. ‘What about that? Do you know who it is?’
    Bella picked it up. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t noticed it.’ She turned it to the light. ‘It could be Maria or Dorinda, couldn’t it?’
    ‘May I see?’ asked Libby. ‘Well, it’s obviously 1920s, and Maria wouldn’t be grown up by then, would she? And these women are definitely grown up.’
    ‘Dorinda, then? But which one is she?’ asked Bella.
    ‘That one,’ said Fran, indicating the tallest figure in the photograph, a laughing woman wearing a cloche hat.
    Bella stared. ‘How do you … oh.’
    Fran smiled. ‘Don’t know if I’ll get anything from it, but we can but hope,’ she said.
    ‘Right,’ said Libby. ‘Now, is there anything you want us to do before we go, Bella?’
    ‘No, thanks, you’ve been wonderful,’ said Bella. ‘Can I ring you if I need to?’
    ‘Of course,’ said Fran, ‘and you might give Inspector Connell a ring, too.’
    ‘Do I have to tell him what we’ve found?’
    ‘I think you must,’ said Libby. ‘They always find things out in the end, and the quicker you get to the bottom of your murder, even if none of this matters, the better. Then you can get on with sorting out the theatre, can’t you?’

Chapter Five
    ‘ I NEARLY SAID “ GET on with sorting out your life”,’ said Libby, as they drove out of Heronsbourne, ‘but she hasn’t