Strictly Murder (37 page)

One: She had loved Greg but he had rejected her in favour of younger women.

Two: Holly had seen the murder weapon - a bundle of computer ties - in her office prior to the murder.

Three: JayJay's intention to quit the show might not be reason enough to kill her, but threats of damaging revelations in her autobiography certainly could be. Especially if they showed a tendency to violence in Candida's past.

Four: She had the strength of character, and the resourcefulness, to be a killer.

Great! I could make out a strong case against Candy, so why did I still feel dissatisfied? Something must be wrong somewhere, something that didn't quite gel. I sighed. My mother always said I was hard to please. So, who else was there? I racked my brains for possible suspects. Holly? Well, hardly. Greg may well have seduced her but, these days, that was no motive to kill a man. Most girls would relish his advances, assuming they didn't throw themselves at him in the first place and besides, try as I might I could not come up with a plausible reason why Holly would also kill JayJay. Kenny Cameron seemed an unlikely candidate for either murder, though I would be interested in hearing what he had to say for himself tomorrow and, according to Jerry, John Brackett had a cast iron alibi.

Eventually, with my brain tired from working out all the permutations and my legs aching from all the pacing I'd done, I took myself off to bed. I pulled the thin summer-weight duvet over my shoulders and lay there trying to rest and put all thoughts about death and murder out of my mind. But sleep proved elusive. It must have been an hour later that I decided to give up the struggle and wandered into the kitchen for a nightcap hoping a tot of brandy would help me into the arms of Morpheus. I pulled down the half-litre bottle of Courvoisier from the cupboard where I stored it and reached for a glass. A headline in the discarded Crofterton Gazette screamed at me as I did so. 'Promises Were Broken Say Angry Mums'. Could broken promises also lead to murder? I was beginning to think that they might.

The Rotary Club Summer Fête took place every year in Victoria Park in the centre of Crofterton. Beyond the elegant wrought iron bandstand and formal gardens that fronted on to the town, and separated from it by a wide pavement, lay the twenty or so football pitches that in winter played host to hundreds of bare-legged, red faced men and boys of the local Sunday League. Now a myriad of gaily coloured marquees, tents and gazebos clustered around a large grassed area in the middle where the various events were held. It was an opportunity for local charities and voluntary organisations to show themselves off. Stalls for the Guides, Scouts, and St. John Ambulance Brigade, interspersed here and there with ice cream and burger vans, battled against the cries enticing the public to part with its money at tombola and win-a-teddy stands.

When I arrived Kenny Cameron was just finishing his speech and declaring 'the Crofterton Summer Fête well and truly open', though by the looks of things it had been in full swing for some time. I wandered around, my pace leisurely, my mind occupied not with the fun on offer but with darker thoughts. Determined not to open my purse, I relented and tried my luck at a bottle stall, run in aid of Macmillan Nurses. Naturally, from a large trestle table filled with every type of brandy, whisky, wine and liqueurs, I came away with nothing more than a bottle of nail polish. Green nail polish! Still, I didn't really mind, at least my money had gone to a good cause.

“
Excuse me.” A touch on my arm made me glance up. “It's Verity Long, isn't it?”

Well, well. Maybe my luck had changed. Instead of me thinking up excuses to approach the man from Mariner Productions, here he was accosting me.

“
Yes, Mr Cameron. Hello again.”

“
It was you, wasn't it?”

“
Me?” I looked at him stupidly. What was the man going on about?

“
Yes, It was you that found her.”

“
Yes.” I replied, quietly, “I found her.”

To my surprise he put a hand under my elbow and steered me away from the crowds.

“
Please, Miss Long,” he kept his voice low, “I need to talk to you.”

We didn't stop until we'd left the area set aside for the fête, crossed the pavement, and were into the formal gardens. He aimed straight for the first empty bench.

“
Let's sit down a moment.”

“
Mr Cameron, what is all this about?”

I turned to face him, shocked to see tears in his eyes.

“
Was she peaceful when you found her? Did Jaynee die peacefully, do you think?”

Disgusted by this prurient interest I was about to turn away but those tears pulled at my sympathy gland, keeping me on the bench.

“
Why on earth do you want to know that, Mr Cameron?”

He took a moment, during which he gave me a long, calculating stare, before replying.

“
Can I trust you, Miss Long?

“
It's Verity, please, and yes, I would like to think you can trust me. Though it depends what it is,” I added as an afterthought. Who knew what terrible secret this man wanted to confess?

“
Jaynee Johnson and I were lovers. Oh, I don't just mean in the conventional sense,” he waved a well manicured hand, as if to indicate that I should dismiss all thoughts that he could be so banal and hurried on. “I mean we were in love. We were hoping to be married.”

For a moment he looked so utterly bereft, so devastated, that I had to restrain myself from putting an arm around him.

“
I'm so sorry.”

“
The week that Jaynee was supposedly missing,” tears ran down his face, “she was with me in my cottage in Derbyshire.”

So I'd been right in my guess that JayJay was in a love nest somewhere, though in the face of Kenny Cameron's all too evident grief, that thought gave me no satisfaction at all.

“
Perhaps you'd better tell me all about it,” I said as he took out a large handkerchief and wiped his streaming face.

Slowly, with many pauses while he struggled to control his emotions, I got the story from him. They had been seeing each other since March, originally to discuss the producer's plans for a chat show but soon discovered they had a lot more in common than the industry they worked in. Business meetings had given way to romantic dates though the realisation that they were in love had come more recently and as a complete surprise to both of them - or so Cameron claimed. The week at the cottage had been his idea but Jaynee had gone along with it, quickly seeing the opportunity it presented for some free publicity.

“
How did anyone know she was missing?” I asked.

“
Oh, Jaynee arranged it with a reporter she knew. This chap was to start all the 'Where is Jaynee?' and 'JayJay is Missing' business in return for exclusive revelations on her return. We knew all the press hounds would pick up the scent and run with the story.”

“
Did the reporter know where she was?”

“
Oh, no. He'd have been camped outside the place if she'd told him”

“
And the exclusive revelations?”

“
Originally that was going to be Jaynee leaving
Star Steps a
nd presenting the chat show. I persuaded her to change it to an announcement of our …” his voice broke suddenly as he gulped back a sob. “ …our wedding plans,” he whispered.

“
So when did you go up to the cottage?” I asked, trying to fix the timeline to the murder in my mind.

He rubbed a hand across his eyes and brow.

“
We went up after she'd finished recording the show on the Monday.” His eyes lost their focus as he though back remembering, albeit sadly, the time he had spent with his lover. “We had a lovely week. The cottage is hidden in wooded hills above Matlock; it's a beautiful spot, ideal as a place to unwind. On the Thursday we went down into the town and I bought her an engagement ring. Was she wearing it when you … when you saw her?”

I closed my eyes in an effort to remember, picturing again that still figure, the pale hands as they lay at her sides.

“
Yes,” I said finally. “There was a ring on her left hand. A small diamond solitaire.”

He smiled for the first time, taking a crumb of solace from the knowledge that the dead woman still wore that token of their love.

“
Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for that.”

“
But weren't you both scared that she would be recognised when you went into town?” I tried to focus on the practicalities.

“
No. Jaynee took care of that with a brown wig and dark glasses. She was also very good at imitating accents so she didn't sound at all like she did on television.”

Which at least showed forethought, if not actual cleverness, on JayJay's part. Once again I found myself forced to re-evaluate my assessment of the dead woman.

“
And when did you return from Matlock?”

“
We returned on Saturday 5
^th
. Jaynee had an appointment on that day.”

“
Who with?”

“
Hmm? I don't know. Why?”

I bit back the retort that leapt to my lips. I had to make allowances for the state the man was in. As gently as I could, I pointed out the obvious.

“
Because whoever she was due to meet could have been the person who killed her.”

“
Oh! I suppose you're right. Jaynee didn't say and I didn't press her. I wish now I had.”

"Did she say what the appointment was for?"

He screwed up his face in effort of remembrance.

"I think she said something about a friend moving, or something. I really can't remember."

“
Have you told the police all this?”

“
Yes, of course!” He had his feelings under control now, the handkerchief put away. “Miss Long, you still haven't answered my first question and you seem to be asking rather too many of your own. Just what is your interest?”

I scratched my chin with a finger nail. Well, it had taken him long enough to wake up to that fact and I had got a lot of information out of him. I couldn't grumble if he now clammed up.

“
I'm sorry, Mr Cameron. The answer to your question is, that when I saw her, she looked composed and, yes, peaceful. I don't know how much the police may have told you …”

“
Nothing,” he spat. ”Well, nothing that I wanted to hear, anyway. All they did was ask me questions. Like whether she had low blood pressure …”

"Did she?"

"Yes."

"Was it common knowledge? At the studios, I mean."

"Some people knew, certainly. Her secretary, her producer, and one or two others, I think.”

He scowled and, aware that I risked alienating him, I went on quickly.