Free Ill-Gotten Gains by Ilsa Evans

similar. Except perhaps for Quinn, who alternated each mouthful with an examination of her mobile. I knew I should take it away but lacked the energy for an argument. Instead, I thought back to my own phone conversation with Sam. Was it possible that I was the last person who spoke to him, other than the murderer? Nell, this is huge. Huge! If it weren’t for you and Quinn, we wouldn’t have started down this path. We. Sam had said we. We have news for you, we discovered, we should be hung, drawn and quartered!
    ‘He wasn’t alone!’ I stared at my companions. ‘Sam! In our phone conversation, he kept using the word we . There was someone else there!’
    ‘And you have only just realised this?’ asked Yen.
    ‘Well, I was … busy at the time. I do have a life, you know.’
    ‘Temporarily,’ said Quinn darkly, glancing up from her phone.
    ‘Interesting.’ Petra drummed her fingernails again. ‘Very interesting. Of course, it doesn’t mean that this person is the murderer; just that at some stage Sam had company. It’s likely that this company was one of those there that afternoon, when you and Quinn dropped in.’
    ‘How do you figure that?’
    ‘Elementary, my dear Forrest. Sam didn’t introduce the other part of the we , which he would have done had he known that you were unaware of their presence. So the probability is that it was somebody whom he already knew that you knew was involved.’
    ‘What?’ asked Lucy, looking from me to her aunt. ‘I mean … huh?’
    ‘That sounds like a series of suppositions,’ I commented, unconvinced.
    ‘No, it’s the balance of probabilities. In the absence of other evidence, it becomes the best avenue of inquiry. So …’ After pushing her meal to one side, she plucked a fresh serviette from the stand and began tearing it up. ‘Anyone got a pen?’
    Yen passed her one just as the waiter materialised with a plate containing a baked potato lathered with bacon-studded sour cream. Yen beamed. ‘Perfect! Thank you.’
    ‘So, who was at this meeting yesterday?’ Petra was writing SAM in large letters on a scrap of serviette. She pushed it into the centre of the table and then looked up expectantly.
    ‘The mayor, Willy and Leisl Ackermann, and Deb Taylor.’
    ‘Tessa’s sister,’ added Quinn, looking at her own sister.
    I ignored her. ‘Oh, and Edward Given. He came in at the end.’
    ‘Okay.’ Petra was writing furiously. She lined up the pieces of serviette next to each other. ‘Now let’s eliminate them.’
    ‘Unfortunate turn of phrase,’ said Yen. ‘Particularly regarding Sam.’
    ‘You can also get rid of Willy.’ I was staring at the names. ‘Because I was talking to him as he unlocked the centre this morning and he didn’t even know why I was there.’
    ‘Which most probably eliminates Leisl too.’ Petra hesitated with her hand over Leisl’s name. ‘If one of them had been with Sam when the discovery was made, they would definitely have shared it with the other. No doubt.’
    ‘Agreed.’ I took a sip of wine, thinking. ‘You can also lose Deb Taylor. She had no idea that Sam was there, or that I had an appointment, and I know genuine shock when I see it.’
    ‘Okay, so goodbye to Frilly Willy and spouse, plus Deb Taylor. I’ve always disliked the name Deb. It’s more like a sound than a name. Like a tap dripping.’
    ‘I’m sure that’s going to devastate the woman.’ Yen tapped her knife against the mayor’s name, leaving a smear of sour cream. ‘Not him. He’d have asked for an update on anything they uncovered but he wouldn’t have been there so late, doing the research. Not a chance.’
    I looked at her doubtfully. ‘He did volunteer to go out to the cemetery with them.’
    ‘Curiosity, that’s all. Believe me, when it comes to the background stuff, that man is nowhere to be seen. He’s strictly foreground material.’
    ‘Which just leaves us with Edward Given.’ Petra was staring at the single remaining scrap of