6 Grounds for Murder by Kate Kingsbury Page B

seemed to be quite upset by something, and Cecily took her place at the table with the fervent hope that the two women were not in the middle of a battle royal.
    “I cannot believe that the constabulary of this town can be so prejudiced and narrow-minded,” Madeline declared, her dark eyes smoldering with indignation.
    Relieved that Phoebe was not the root of Madeline’s anger, Cecily used her most soothing tone. “Sit down, Madeline, and tell us what has happened to upset you so drastically.”
    “Yes, poor dear,” Phoebe murmured. “You are not about to be arrested for dispensing fertility brews to the young men of the village, I trust?”
    Madeline directed her stormy glare directly at Phoebe. “Does she have to be here?” She lashed the air with her hand, almost knocking over a huge vase of yellow chrysanthemums.“I really don’t think I can put up with her nasty, snide remarks right now.”
    Cecily sent Phoebe a warning look. “Phoebe will behave, won’t you, dear?”
    Phoebe sniffed loudly and straightened the brim of her hat with a sharp tug. She kept her mouth tightly closed, her lips pressed together in resentment.
    “I happened to see Mrs. Chubb as I was passing through the kitchen,” Madeline said, shaking her hair back from her face with a highly dramatic gesture. “She told me that Gertie had met Mrs. Northcott in the doctor’s office yesterday afternoon.”
    “Oh, that’s right.” Cecily nodded, trying not to notice Phoebe fidgeting in her chair and tapping her parasol against the table leg. “I remember Mrs. Chubb saying that Gertie would be down there.”
    “I really can’t see what all those silly women find so fascinating about Dr. Prestwick,” Phoebe said, smoothing down the lacy frills at her throat. “I find the man quite vulgar at times. All that smiling and winking. Quite uncouth, if you ask my opinion.”
    “No one did,” Madeline said curtly.
    Phoebe bristled. “There’s no need to be rude, Madeline. I was merely passing a comment.”
    “And managing to interrupt me at the same time. You must have the limelight at all times, mustn’t you?”
    “Perhaps if you had something of interest to say—”
    “Perhaps if we let Madeline finish what she wanted to say, it might be of interest,” Cecily said firmly.
    “I seriously doubt that, but please do proceed.” Phoebe sat back with an air of someone exercising great patience.
    Ignoring her, Madeline concentrated her attention on Cecily. “As I was saying, before Phoebe rudely intruded, Gertie spoke with Mrs. Northcott. Apparently she toldGertie that the police will not be pursuing the murder on the Downs with any real interest.”
    “Did she say why?” Cecily asked as Phoebe uttered a bored and conspicuously loud sigh.
    “She most certainly did, and that’s what has me so outraged. The constabulary has the audacity to claim that because the victim is merely a gypsy, there is no need to pursue the case since the gypsies will take care of matters for them.”
    Madeline flung herself away from the table and threw her hands in the air. “Can you imagine such biased incompetence? They simply consider the death of a gypsy too insignificant to matter. Now, if it had been one of the gentry, they would have had the dogs combing the woods by now.”
    “Oh, do calm down, dearie,” Phoebe muttered. “It’s not the end of the world, for heaven’s sake. No doubt the constables are right and the gypsies will discover the murderer and punish him according to their rules. After all, they do live by a far different creed than do we gentlefolk. I am quite sure they will mete out a far harsher punishment than anything the constabulary can manage, being the heathens that they are.”
    “And what do you presume to know about it?” Madeline demanded, coming back to the table. Placing her hands flat on the surface of it, she leaned across, bringing her face close to Phoebe’s.
    “Take care what you say about the gypsies, Phoebe