The Locked Room (Ruth Galloway #14)(23)

‘The average house price is £275,000,’ says Tanya.



Hunstanton Library is a low, modern building in a residential area. It’s nothing like the solid Carnegie-built library in King’s Lynn that Judy remembers from her school days. It looks more like a doctor’s surgery or a primary school.

‘I used to love visiting the library when I was a kid,’ says Tony. ‘My mum took us after school on a Thursday. I remember, when you were ten, you got a green library card which meant you could get six books instead of just three. It seemed the most exciting thing ever.’

Tony always keeps up a steady flow of chat, unless specifically requested to shut up. It’s like wading in his stream of consciousness. Judy knows that Tony was brought up in London and came to Norfolk to attend university. His parents are first-generation Chinese immigrants and he has a brother, Mike, who’s a junior doctor. Tony once told her that he had a sister who died of meningitis as a child, but Lily rarely features in the reminiscences.

‘My parents weren’t big readers,’ says Judy. ‘I can’t remember them ever taking us to the library. I went with the school though.’

‘My parents read in Chinese,’ says Tony. ‘We used to go to Charing Cross Library on Saturday mornings because they had a big Chinese books collection. Sometimes we’d go to the cinema afterwards.’

‘Sounds great,’ says Judy as she parks in front of the library. ‘Remember to let the interviewee get a word in edgeways, won’t you.’

Tony lapses into silence but is soon chatting to the librarian, Emma, about green library cards and Charing Cross.

‘I worked for Westminster Libraries for while,’ says Emma. ‘A funny little place in Mayfair. Interesting readers though.’

Emma is originally from Scotland.

‘It was a bond I had with Avril,’ she says. ‘We were both from near Edinburgh. I just can’t believe she’s gone.’

‘Avril’s death must have been a shock to you,’ says Judy. They are in the children’s section because the library isn’t open yet. It feels odd, talking about death whilst sitting on squashy cubes surrounded by primary-coloured book covers: Elmer the Patchwork Elephant, Spot, Dear Zoo, Happy Birthday, Tiger Twins.

‘It was a terrible shock,’ says Emma, the words bringing out her Scots accent. ‘Avril always seemed so cheerful. I looked forward to her days.’

‘How many days did she work in the library?’ asks Judy.

‘Just two days a week. Usually Mondays and Thursdays. She was a volunteer. We’re relying on them more and more these days. There aren’t enough trained librarians to go round.’

‘What do the volunteers do?’ asks Judy.

‘All sorts,’ says Emma. ‘Sometimes they deliver books to housebound readers or help with children’s activities. Avril did general administrative work – putting protective covers on books, that sort of thing – but she also helped out with IT support. She was proud of being a silver surfer.’

‘How did she seem when you last saw her?’ says Judy. ‘Did she seem anxious or depressed?’

‘Not at all,’ says Emma. ‘I saw her on Monday. She seemed her usual self.’

According to the post-mortem, Avril died sometime on Monday night or early on Tuesday morning. She was found by Tina the next morning. In a locked room.

‘Can you remember what you talked about?’ asks Tony. Obviously aimless chat is one of his specialist subjects.

‘We were laughing about something we saw on TV,’ says Emma. ‘I can’t remember what.’ She looks from Tony to Judy. ‘Is it true? That she committed suicide? That’s what people are saying but I just can’t believe it.’

‘We’re still investigating,’ said Judy. ‘I’m sorry. I know it must be distressing. Did Avril ever mention anyone or anything troubling her? Anyone hanging around the house, for example?’

‘No,’ says Emma, wide-eyed. ‘Avril got on with everyone.’

‘Is there anyone that we should be talking to? Her daughter mentioned someone called Hugh that Avril used to meet here?’

‘Oh, Hugh Baxter. He’s another volunteer. A lovely man. Very interested in local history and all that. I think he’s a bit sweet on Avril. He’ll be devastated when he hears.’

‘Do you have an address for Hugh?’ asks Judy.

Lovely man or not, he’s going on their list.



Hugh Baxter lives nearby so Judy and Tony leave the car and walk. It’s midmorning and the streets are very quiet. Tony stops to talk to a cat sunning itself on a wall but otherwise there is not a living creature to be seen. Is everyone staying inside because of the threat of coronavirus, thinks Judy, or is Hunstanton always like this?

Hugh’s house is an end-of-terrace cottage. The brickwork looks slightly shabby but the garden is immaculate. A birdbath stands in a perfect circle of lawn and early daffodils are pushing their way up through the soil.

‘My uncle Wang Lei loves gardening . . .’ Tony begins but Judy silences him with a look. The door is opened by a white-bearded man in the sort of clothes Judy’s grandfather wears for relaxing: shirt, tie, cardigan, neatly pressed trousers and slippers.

Judy had thought she would have to break the news about Avril. This is something she has been trained to do but it’s never pleasant. However, it’s clear that Hugh already knows. When Judy says why they have come, he rubs his eyes.