Which meant Dahlia – or three Dahlias, to be precise – had to solve one last murder.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘The thing about the past is, it so rarely wants to stay buried.’

‘Like bodies,’ Johnnie replied, glumly. ‘They seem to keep on pitching up everywhere this week.’

Dahlia Lively in A Rather Lively Murder

By Lettice Davenport, 1932

Dinner was being served when they returned to the house.

They hadn’t talked much on the walk back from the folly, and as they took their seats at the table, Rosalind saw that Libby hadn’t joined them. Was she still watching for her cousin’s ghost? Or hiding from her cousin’s family that didn’t know she existed?

More likely, she was talking to DCI Larch, at last. Which meant the detective would soon know almost as much as them.

Tonight’s meal was a shadow of the banquet of the first night, and not even a match for last night’s catered dinner. With the additional staff Marcus had hired gone, but her guests staying on an extra night, Isobel had called in reinforcements from her usual household staff and managed to put on a simple casserole that felt unsuited to the warm summer evening.

There were no starters, and only coffee and mints for afters, but nobody seemed sorry not to linger too long at the dinner table. Everyone knew this wasn’t over yet. Rosalind hadn’t seen Larch since he’d questioned her that afternoon, but she had no doubt that he was around somewhere, poking at secrets to see if they yelped.

In fact, everyone seemed to be viewing each other with suspicion. Someone around the table – more than one, perhaps – was responsible for two deaths. She thought about the dolls they’d found – Caro, Posy and Hugh. Were they really a warning? Was someone planning another murder?

If the murderer was killing to keep Clementine a secret, too many people knew now. But with her dead, and unable to fight for her inheritance, might they kill again to avoid justice?

Rosalind let her gaze land on Hugh. His smile seemed forced as he told another amusing anecdote about his Aunt Letty to an attentive Ashok. Was she supposed to be keeping him safe, or protecting her friends from him?

The knot in her stomach tightened as she realised she had no idea.

The day had run late from the start, and it was later still once dinner was finished. Rosalind nodded to the other Dahlias to follow her as people bade each other good night and headed for their rooms.

The Snug was mercifully empty when they returned to it.

‘So, have we solved it?’ Caro dropped into the armchair nearest the fire. ‘Should we call Larch and tell him everything we know, let him arrest the culprit?’