Hey, Miss Marple, how’s it going? Solved the Mystery of The Dead Wife yet?

Steph sent a succinct reply.

Piss off!

She got a response almost immediately, as she thought she would.

Touchy! Seriously, I don’t know if you’re ruffling feathers over there already but we’ve had someone ring up asking about you.

Steph reread the text message and her heart gave an extra beat. Someone had been asking about her? She didn’t wait to ponder the question any further and hit the call button. Adam answered straight away.

‘Thought that might stir you up.’

‘Are you being serious?’ she asked, dispensing with any niceties.

‘One hundred per cent.’

‘Who was it?’ she asked, looking round for any sign of Sonia.

‘I didn’t speak to them, Ian did. He seemed to think it was someone from Conmere House.’

Steph tried to remember if she’d even told them of her employment history. She might have mentioned it to Harry when they were chatting on the terrace on Friday night, but she certainly hadn’t given him any authority to speak to anyone. ‘What did Ian say to them?’

‘That he couldn’t discuss anything without a formal written request from them and confirmation from you.’

‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Steph, realising too late that she’d spoken the words out loud.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Adam, the mildly amused tone having now left his voice.

‘Nothing’s going on.’ Even to her own ears she sounded cagey.

‘Are you sure? Are you OK?’ Adam persisted.

‘Yeah. Positive. I don’t know what that was all about. I’m doing some work here at Conmere, housekeeping stuff, for the week, just to earn a bit of extra money, but that’s all. Maybe it was to do with that.’

‘You’re not poking around into Elizabeth Sinclair’s death, then?’ Adam at least made an attempt to sound casual, when Steph was aware he was dying to know really.

‘No, I’m not. Nothing to report, as far as I can see,’ she lied, aware that she didn’t want to share anything with him, partly because she wasn’t entirely sure herself what was going on and if anything that had happened actually had any bearing on Elizabeth Sinclair’s death.

‘Not sure I believe you,’ said Adam. ‘But I’ll let you know if we have any more calls about you.’

‘Thanks.’ She cancelled the call, trying to decide if she should be concerned or not. She looked around to see where on earth Sonia was. She’d give her another ten minutes and then send her a text. In the meantime, feeling agitated by Sonia’s lateness and Adam’s call, she decided to call Harry. She’d confront him while she was in the mood for it.

‘Hello, Steph,’ said Harry. ‘Everything OK?’