else.’
‘Oh, because I came into the pub? No, she didn’t ring me, she rang Screwball. He didn’t want to go into the pub, so I went instead.’
‘Oh, yes. Dr Robinson said it was Stewart who brought Vernon Bowling to the group. Mates, were they?’
Lewis shrugged. ‘Suppose so. They always sat together and I think they used to sometimes share lifts.’
‘But not that night?’
‘Statin’ the bleedin’ obvious, no.’
‘Do you know any of the other members?’ asked Peter, suddenly appearing from behind the bar.
‘Not really, nor does Mum. There was a bit of interest when I first turned up, but after that they seemed to take a delight in almost ignoring me. Snobs, every last one of ʼem.’
‘Don’t want to be seen as fawning fans,’ said Libby. ‘But I bet they watch your programmes, even if they pretend not to.’
‘Libby.’ Cassandra’s voice called over the chatter of the now dispersing crowd. Libby turned and saw Cassandra coming towards her, the grey-haired man in tow.
‘Libby, Ben, this is Mike Farthing from Farthing’s Plants. He knew Vernon Bowling.’
Chapter Seven
Mike Farthing shook hands all round. Tall, with a slight stoop, his blue shirt looked a little rumpled, the beige trousers more suited to summer than mid-winter.
‘Cass said she’d been using your mail order service for some time,’ said Libby. ‘She seems most impressed.’
Mike Farthing smiled down – not an easy feat – at Cassandra. ‘One of my best customers,’ he said. ‘I’m very pleased to meet her in person.’
‘And you knew Vernon Bowling?’
‘He was a customer, too. He was planting up his garden and I was helping him.’
‘Was it a new garden?’ asked Ben. ‘Are you designing it?’
Mike smiled deprecatingly. ‘We-ell, just suggesting you know …’
‘Was it a new house?’ asked Libby. ‘We saw a couple of new houses between Shott and Bishop’s Bottom.’
‘Yes,’ said Mike, looking surprised. ‘Neo-Georgian, just along Rogues Lane.’
‘We saw it,’ nodded Libby. ‘Looked a bit bare, up on that rise all on its own.’
‘Yes, he wanted quick-growing trees and hedging. I was trying to steer him away from Leylandii.’
‘What was he like?’ asked Peter. ‘He was a scientist, wasn’t he?’
‘He had been. I don’t think he liked to talk about his past.’ Mike shook his head.
‘Dellington, of course,’ said Libby nodding sagely despite the fact that twenty-four hours ago she had no idea what Dellington was.
‘Have the police spoken to you?’ asked Ben. ‘They asked us if we knew any of the members of the group.’
‘Oh, yes. A very polite constable came round this morning. Apart from Ron Stewart I suppose I knew him as well as anyone did. In fact it was Vernon who introduced me to the group.’ Mike laughed. ‘Said I needed to get out more.’
‘Was he right?’ said Cassandra.
‘I suppose so.’ Mike shrugged. ‘I spend most of my life with plants. The only thing I do apart from that is occasionally attend the bigger shows. Which I hate. I pop down to the local now and then, and then of course, there’s our Joint Villages show.’
‘Oh, we heard about that this morning from George at The Red Lion in Heronsbourne,’ said Libby.
‘You know George? He and Sid at The Poacher are mates.’
‘We’ve met Sid, too,’ said Libby.
Everyone turned and looked at her.
‘You’ve been investigating.’ Ben frowned.
‘You knew Fran and I went out this morning,’ said Libby. ‘Harry phoned while we were having lunch with Patti at The Red Lion.’
‘I didn’t know quite what you were doing,’ said Ben. ‘You didn’t tell me.’
‘Or me,’ said Peter.
‘Well, she told me,’ said Cassandra. ‘Which is why I brought Mike over.’
Lewis, who had drifted away, now drifted back.
‘I’m going to fetch Mum now. She doesn’t like to stay out too late these days.’ He made a vague salute towards Mike. ‘See you next rehearsal,