Ester Jackson, but everyone calls me Ettie. Sit down, I’ll make your tea and we can discuss that terrible tragedy.’
Morgan realised that Ester knew exactly what had happened. Why wouldn’t she, it was public knowledge. It didn’t mean the woman was involved, of course. Just because she lived in this secluded little house it didn’t mean she didn’t use a computer or smartphone.
Ettie carried over a wooden tray with two mugs and a plate of biscuits. She set it down on a large, battered pine trunk, with an assortment of candles in the middle, that served as a coffee table. She passed a mug to Morgan.
Morgan realised she hadn’t told her how she liked her tea, but it looked perfect.
‘Thank you. Can I ask, did you know the Potters very well?’
‘I knew Olivia, lovely woman. She introduced herself when they moved in, even brought the girls to visit a couple of times. They weren’t interested, of course, they’re teenagers; who wants to visit elderly neighbours when you can be doing far more exciting stuff? They seemed like nice girls, though, especially the younger one. Very polite; the older one had a bit of an attitude, but you get that at her age. I didn’t know her husband, saw him a couple of times. He’d wave, but never actually spoke to him.’
‘Do you know what happened?’
‘I heard they were murdered, and Olivia was found hanging which is ridiculous. There is no way that woman would hang herself. You need to ask yourself why whoever did this hung her that way. If you ask me, she was already dead when they did that. Awful thing to do, vile. It’s like killing her twice; once wasn’t enough so they did it all over again.’
‘Did you see anyone in the area the day or night of the murders?’
She smiled. ‘Honey, look out of my windows. I can see trees and that’s it, that’s why I choose to live here. I like the peace and quiet. I couldn’t wait to move out of the village into my little cottage. I don’t hold well with the village gossips. I would never partake in their vicious rumours they so enjoy spreading. No, I did not see anyone or hear anything; if I had I’d have phoned the police.
‘You know it’s not the first time that house had suffered such a terrible tragedy.’
‘I know, the O’Brien family were murdered there in ’75. Another lovely family. I don’t know why they built that house. Some places are not meant to be lived in.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Come now, you might be young but don’t tell me you haven’t watched your fair share of horror films over the years. Tainted land, curses, that kind of stuff.’
‘You think the land is cursed? You live on it.’
‘No, I don’t live on the same land. The river and woodland separate them. I don’t really know if it’s cursed, but it’s certainly bad luck. I wouldn’t live in that house if someone gave it to me and said Merry Christmas.’
Morgan was a little taken aback by the passion in Ettie’s voice.
‘Did you know that Olivia was having an affair? Did you ever see her with another man?’
‘I don’t like to speak ill of the dead. She was, from my experience, a nice woman with a few issues. Being faithful was one, but that was none of my business. I did see her walking through the woods on several occasions with a man, but it was from a distance. It may have been her husband, it may not. I couldn’t tell you one way or the other. I’m pretty sure the village post office will have an opinion on her love life. You could ask them.’
‘Thanks, I will. Can I ask, what are in all those jars?’
Ettie stared at her for a few moments and Morgan got the feeling she was deciding if she should tell her the truth or not.
‘Herbs, the medicinal kind. I’m a natural healer; people come to me when they’ve tried everything else and it hasn’t worked. I’ve always loved working in the garden and the kitchen. Sometimes I read their tea leaves or tarot cards.’
‘You remind me of my mum, she was the same.’
‘Was she? How lovely, I knew there was something about you I liked. I don’t usually invite strangers into my house you know, I make them wait at the garden gate. People come to see me when they’re looking for answers buried deep inside their souls. All this