Free Jam and Jeopardy by Doris Davidson Page A

lies to land them in trouble.’
    McGillivray smiled, and rose to his feet. ‘We’ll get to the truth, don’t you fret. If they’re innocent, they’ve nothing to fear. We may have to speak to you again,
Mrs Wakeford, but we’ll leave you meantime. Will you be all right?’
    ‘Yes, of course. I’ve got over the initial shock of her actually being poisoned. I’m quite strong, really.’
    ‘Good. We’ll see ourselves out, and thank you for talking to us so frankly.’
    They left by the back door, and were walking down the garden towards the Lane, when Sergeant Black came out of Number Three. ‘Hop over the fence,’ he instructed. ‘I’ve
just told the two ladies here that you’d be calling. I think you should see them.’
    He went over one fence, while McGillivray and Moore cleared the other one, and they met at Janet Souter’s door.
    ‘What d’you think so far?’ John Black asked.
    The inspector turned to his sergeant. ‘Let’s hear you.’
    ‘Well, Mrs Wakeford seems to be sure about it being the arsenic,’ Moore began, pleased at having been consulted. ‘So it looks fairly certain that one of the nephews must have
succeeded in killing the old lady. But which one?’
    McGillivray looked amused. ‘Don’t believe everything you hear, lad. That story takes a lot of swallowing.’
    John Black scowled. ‘Mrs Wakeford wouldn’t lie, sir. She’s a pillar of the church, and works a lot for charity.’ He was obviously incensed at the idea of her veracity
being doubted.
    ‘They’re often the worst kind,’ McGillivray observed dryly. ‘But I didn’t say I thought she was telling fibs. It’s the dead woman’s story I find
hard to credit. Now, fill me in about these other ladies.’
    When Mrs Skinner took them in, McGillivray recognised, immediately, the signs of fear in Mrs Grant, so he gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I’m trying to fill in some
background. What type of woman Miss Souter was, that kind of thing.’
    It was Grace who answered, quietly and deliberately. ‘She was difficult, disagreeable, quarrelsome, and constantly complained about the least little thing. Now she’s gone, my sister
and I will have peace to live our lives without her interference.’
    Before he bent his head to the task of note-taking, David Moore noticed that Violet Grant was breathing rapidly, and had her eyes fixed apprehensively on her sister as if she were afraid of what
she was going to say and was willing her to tread more carefully. If they hadn’t been such genteel ladies, he could have believed that they had something to hide, but it was likely pure
nervousness on Mrs Grant’s part.
    The inspector was admiring the forthrightness of the tall, thin woman sitting in front of him. Most females, when faced with a situation like this, wouldn’t have admitted so readily to bad
feelings about a murdered person, but this one exuded an air of confidence, a will of iron.
    ‘What sort of things did she complain about, Mrs Skinner? We must make a picture of Miss Souter’s personality, you see, to help us to find a reason for her murder.’
    ‘Yes, of course. I quite understand.’ Grace smiled. ‘They were trivial things, usually, just enough to niggle us. About our dog digging in her garden, for instance.’
    McGillivray gave no indication that he’d seen Mrs Grant’s extreme agitation at this point. Her face had blanched and her hands were clutching at her skirt. ‘Does your dog often
go into her garden, Mrs Skinner?’
    ‘I’m sure she put out bones and things to entice him in the first place, then she started throwing stones at him, or even kicking him if she was near enough, so he hadn’t been
going there so much.’
    Callum McGillivray shifted the focus of his penetrating gaze to Violet, whose cheeks suddenly flooded with colour. ‘What breed of dog is he, Mrs Grant?’
    ‘He was a Skye terrier . . . mostly,’ she whispered, and her eyes filled with tears. She fumbled for her handkerchief