Mum still looked unconvinced. ‘What sort of motive?’
‘Anything, really, that seemed important enough to them. Greed, jealousy, the feeling they’ve been betrayed, you name it, it could be the trigger. Suppose, for instance, that one of the girls was having an affair with a married man and she threatened to tell his wife. That could result in him losing his family, his home, his reputation, perhaps even ruin him financially. If he was sufficiently frightened, he might have thought the only way out was to get rid of the threat.’
‘It doesn’t seem a very sensible way to go about it,’ Mum argued. ‘Never mind that it would be a terrible thing to do, there was no guarantee of the outcome. As was the case. The girls were rescued.’
‘Desperate people don’t always think rationally,’ I said. ‘I’ve come across it more than once. And then, of course, there’s jealousy. That’s always a powerful motive. Dawn was a very pretty girl, very much in the limelight. Perhaps she’d stolen someone else’s boyfriend, or been in line for a promotion at work. Another girl with her nose put out of joint might have thought she’d teach her a lesson.’
‘It’s possible, I suppose,’ Mum conceded. ‘Though I must say I can’t see a girl creeping about in the middle of the night with a petrol can and a load of old rags.’
‘I’m trying to look at this from every possible angle,’ I said. ‘And the best way to find out if there’s anyone who might have been pushed over the edge into doing such a terrible thing is to talk to the girls themselves, and the people who know them.’
‘Oh well, I suppose you know what you’re doing.’ Mum finished the last of her coffee. ‘How are you going to go about it, though? They might not take very kindly to being questioned about their personal lives.’
‘No, I know. Oh, by the way, what do you think? Lisa married the baker who rescued her!’
‘Well, well!’ Mum looked astonished. ‘No wonder the café is doing so nicely. A chef and a baker – you couldn’t get much better than that.’
‘I don’t know that he actually works there,’ I said. ‘He may still be in his old job – probably is. However well the café is doing, I can’t imagine it supporting both of them.’
‘I’ll bet he’s responsible for all the fresh rolls and bread for sandwiches, though,’ Mum said.
‘Probably. Which brings me to how I’m going to approach the girls.’ I rested my chin on my steepled fingers, thinking. ‘The café’s the perfect excuse for meeting Lisa. But the estate agent Dawn worked for is a different matter. I could go in on the pretext of looking for property in the area, but I suppose one of the girls in the office will just give me a load of literature and that’ll be it. And she might not even have been there when Dawn was. What I really need is an excuse to get to talk to the boss . . . Ah!’ I brightened suddenly as a brainwave struck me. ‘Have you got anything that could be put up for sale at auction?’ I asked.
Mum gave me a look which suggested she thought I’d taken leave of my senses.
‘Compton Properties also run monthly auctions,’ I explained. ‘Mainly it’s the stuff they get from house clearances, but I imagine they’d include anything saleable for a commission. That would almost certainly be run by Lewis Crighton himself. If there was something I could take in – ask for a valuation – I expect I’d have to see him. Then my options would be open if the girls in the office aren’t any help.’
‘Oh Sally, whatever next!’ Mum sighed.
‘Do you have anything?’ I pressed her. ‘Something you don’t need any more, but which might sell?’
Mum gave it some thought.
‘We’ve got a couple of hurricane lamps somewhere. Brass, with a glass funnel and a wick. They haven’t been used for years. But being as you’re on your crutches, you’d have a job to carry them . . .’ She broke off, thinking again. ‘I know! There’s the candle snuffer that belonged to your Great-Aunt Mabel. That would fit in your bag, wouldn’t it? And there’s a set of apostle spoons, too.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind parting with them?’ I asked, doubtful suddenly.
‘It’ll just be a bit less cluttering up the drawer of the dresser. We’d better check with your father, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome to them, if they’ll be any help to you. And if they don’t sell, I suppose we get them back anyway.’
‘You can count on it. You never know, though, they might be worth a fortune.’