Free Murder Dancing by Lesley Cookman Page A

Although people have been targeted, the minute they go or shrug it off, it starts somewhere else. And I’m sorry, but it has to be someone in the company.’
    Jonathan stepped back, looking at her with horror in his face. ‘It can’t be!’
    â€˜Why not?’ asked Libby reasonably. ‘It’s followed you down here. And the only people here are company people. And none of us support staff, as it were, were there in London. So where does that leave you?’
    Jonathan nodded gloomily. ‘I suppose so. Oh, God. Now I’ll be looking over my shoulder all the time.’
    Libby made up her mind, mentally crossing her fingers.
    â€˜Look. You seem a sensible sort of person. Who else would you say is?’
    Jonathan shook his head, looking bewildered. ‘God, I don’t know! Tom, I suppose. He can be a bit gung-ho, but he’s very down to earth.’
    â€˜Right. Then at some point I want to have a chat with the two of you about the rest of the company.’
    â€˜Why?’ Jonathan was suspicious.
    â€˜Because –’ Libby hesitated, ‘because Max wanted my friend Fran and I to look into all this weirdness.’
    â€˜You?’
    â€˜Yes. We’ve done it before, and Max’s friend Andrew McColl recommended us.’
    Jonathan was staring at her as if she was mad. Libby sighed. ‘I know it sounds weird, but ask Max if you don’t believe me. And now you’d better go and start being Demdike again.’
    The room was emptying slowly and, with a last incredulous look at his hostess, Jonathan followed his fellow company members. Libby put the urns back on the trolley and wheeled them back to the kitchen.
    â€˜This is more difficult than I thought, Het,’ she said. ‘And look at the time! Max wanted them to carry on where they left off, but it’s already half past four. They won’t get much done now.’
    â€˜Leave ’em to it, I would,’ grunted Hetty from the sink. ‘You go and get me those dirty cups, gal.’
    Libby trailed back to the sitting-room with a tray and began to load cups. All she had to do now was persuade Jonathan and Tom Matthews to talk to her about the other dancers, and it sounded as if that might be a hard job. They wouldn’t want to rat on each other, she thought, and then berated herself for the inadvertent pun.
    After she’d finished loading the cups into Hetty’s dishwasher, she sat down at the kitchen table, took out her phone and rang Fran.
    When she had finished relating the events of the day, there was a short silence.
    â€˜I think you’ve done the right thing,’ said Fran eventually, ‘if you can persuade them to talk. When you’ve done that, tell me when and I’ll come, too.’
    â€˜What I was thinking, actually,’ said Libby, ‘was if I can persuade them, I could bring them down to Nethergate in the evening. Get them away from the others.’
    â€˜Might work,’ agreed Fran. ‘Have a go and see what happens.’
    Libby didn’t have to wait long. Just over half an hour later Jonathan put his head round the kitchen door.
    â€˜Sorry to disturb you,’ he said to Hetty. ‘Could I have a word, Libby?’
    Libby winked at Hetty and followed him out into the passage, where Tom stood leaning against the wall. He grinned at Libby.
    â€˜Jonathan explained,’ he said, ‘and actually Max had already mentioned something. At your service, Mrs Investigator.’
    Libby looked at Jonathan. ‘You weren’t keen.’
    Jonathan looked sheepishly at Tom. ‘I didn’t want to talk about anyone.’
    â€˜I told him it was our duty.’ Tom assumed a self-sacrificing attitude, with hand on breast. ‘I mean, someone got hurt today. It’s not a joke any more.’
    â€˜It never was,’ said Libby seriously. ‘But look. Did Max say anything about my friend Fran?’
    â€˜He said you and