The Toast of the Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book III)

Lines of Inquiry

Imogen should've known that rumours in Fleckney spread like the proverbial wildfire, or 'like wildflowers' as little Imogen used to mistakenly say. It took one day for the grapevine to concoct an exaggerated saga of the two women subduing a band of armed robbers. In two days the story had become so popular that Viola had to take a few days off away from the surgery because residents of Fleckney would show up there with fictitious ailments just to see her and fish for information in a less than delicate manner. Imogen, who stayed home waiting for her cheek to heal, ended up spending half an hour on Skype with Petra and the Titan explaining to them that in reality she hadn't been fighting off mafia with the Mediaeval weapons from the Titan's wall - and after she hung up, she wasn't sure she had convinced them.

Thanks to the Mayor's support, Imogen was apprised of the police investigation's progress, and it seemed to go well. Many stolen valuables had been recovered, and several of the burglars' associates were arrested: a gem specialist, a jeweller, and two more crewmen whom Viola had spotted in the van the night of the break-in but who'd escaped when the police had arrived.

After discussing what was known to them with the Mayor, Imogen and Viola decided not to report their suspicions regarding the burglars' connections to CyberFleck just yet. Carolina Viviani and her accomplices didn't confess to it either, only admitting to the break-ins and selling the stolen goods. The investigation into the murders had been reopened as well.

"I see two lines of action we should take here," Imogen said, absent-mindedly doodling on a piece of paper that lay on the table between her and Viola.

The Mayor was making tea, while Rhys Holyoake - who, according to his wife, was having 'a severe case of separation anxiety like a purebred German shepherd' when not around Viola - seemed to be napping on Imogen's sofa, his legs crossed at his ankles, propped on an ottoman.

"We need to figure out who fed the information from CyberFleck to Carolina." Imogen scribbled a simplistic image of a cloud. "And to find out where the valuables that the police couldn't retrieve are. Mr. Guthrie agreed to help us with the latter," she said and threw a quick glance towards the Mayor.

He tensed, but then said in a defeated tone, "Like I said, if you trust him, I'm willing to give him a chance."

He poured boiling water over four tea bags.

"It's not just my personal opinion," Imogen pointed out. "He's been collaborating with the police in London and other counties for a few years now. And he's invested in it himself. Some of his belongings haven't been returned either."

"Mr. Guthrie sounds quite fascinating," Viola drew out, taking her mug out of the Mayor's hands.

Imogen saw Rhys open one eye, the electric blue of his iris radiant.

"A reformed criminal, an art connoisseur," Viola continued, seemingly oblivious to her husband's attentive gaze. Rhys' second eye opened, revealing the hazel streak of his sectoral heterochromia. "Why is he even in Fleckney?" Viola asked pensively. "I have to admit to sharing Mr. Mayor's suspicious outlook."

"Please, call me John," the Mayor said, while Rhys Holyoake went back to his napping.

"Guthrie has personal reasons to be in Fleckney," Imogen said quietly, and deftly ignored the Mayor's exasperated groan. "Either way, I say, we wait for what he finds out," Imogen continued stubbornly. "As for CyberFleck–"

"You could contact Danny Carter," Rhys said, and the other three people in the room turned to him. His eyelashes fluttered open, and he looked at the Mayor. "He helped Will with his security, and it's through an independent contractor, not through anyone in the county. Plus, the man is ex-military."