A Body at the Dance Hall: A totally unputdownable 1920s cozy murder mystery (London Ladies' Murder Club Book 3) by MARTY WINGATE

Author:MARTY WINGATE [WINGATE, MARTY]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2024-04-08T00:00:00+00:00

An uproar from the kitchen – shouting and the banging of metal – came from only one person, Cook.

‘Serve dinner, hold dinner, serve, hold – what do they think the state of the chicken will be at the end of this parliamentary debate?’ Cook said, slamming down an empty pot on the worktable.

‘Mrs Arkwright has asked for trays to be sent to their rooms,’ Mabel said, making sure to stand in the doorway in case she needed to dodge a flying pan.

‘The proper Mrs Arkwright, I hope you mean,’ Cook said, and when Mabel didn’t answer, she looked up and in a quieter tone added, ‘not the one’s just arrived.’

‘Yes, the proper one. But not a tray for Mr Arkwright because he’s gone out for the evening.’ Mabel hoped it was only for the evening and he wouldn’t be locked up.

‘And what about you?’ Cook asked.

‘I’m happy to help with the trays, and then I’m going home.’

‘Not that anyone can blame you,’ Cook said. ‘After all the work we put in today, we still weren’t ready for her and here she is, and don’t you think we won’t hear about it. We called in everyone we could think to help.’

While she talked, she worked. Mabel assisted where she could and soon three trays of chicken and a few other bits sat ready to go.

‘Where’s that Dorcas?’ Cook asked.

Mabel looked out of the kitchen and saw, at the end of the corridor, a white cap duck back into a room. ‘Dorcas?’ she called.

Dorcas looked out, saw Mabel and dusted herself off. ‘Here, ma’am.’ She marched into the kitchen.

Cook handed her a tray. ‘To Mrs Arkwright.’

‘Which one?’ Dorcas asked in a shaky voice.

‘The proper one,’ Mabel said quickly, because she thought she saw steam coming from Cook’s ears. ‘I’ll take the first Mrs Arkwright her tray and return for Roxanne’s.’

At the bottom of the stairs, Dorcas said in a small voice, ‘Is she a terror as they say?’

MaryLou didn’t look like a terror, but Mabel could already see how she might be labelled as one. ‘It’s just everyone’s a bit upset.’

Dorcas went off to Adelaide’s room. As Mabel approached the honeysuckle room, she heard Roxanne inside and hesitated.

‘Mama, I had a dog when I was a little girl here. A dog named Boodles.’

‘Roxanne Louise, where do you get these outrageous ideas – did your father tell you this?’

‘Father reminded me,’ Roxanne said, ‘but then I remembered myself. Did you know Trigg worked here when we lived in London? Except he wasn’t the butler. I’ve remembered that he made dollies from clothes pegs and gave them to me. Did I leave them behind?’

‘You’ve always had such an imagination,’ her mother replied.

‘These are true things, Mama. Don’t you want me to remember?’

‘I want you to remember you live in Chicago – that is your home.’

‘I’m not saying it isn’t,’ Roxanne replied in a hurt tone.

Mabel knocked lightly on the door. ‘I’ve brought your tray.’

Roxanne answered, her face screwed up in indignation. ‘Mabel, you shouldn’t be doing this,’ she said, taking the tray and setting it on the dressing table.

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