A Death in Bloomsbury (The Simon Sampson Mysteries Book 1) by David C Dawson

Author:David C Dawson [Dawson, David C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Park Creek Publishing
Published: 2021-11-09T16:00:00+00:00

The bar of the Fitzroy Tavern was packed. A thick cloud of cigarette smoke hung over the heads of the patrons, and the noise of early Christmas celebrations ricocheted off the walls. Simon eased himself into the crowded space and paused while his ears adjusted to the intensity of the sound. He peered through the smoky haze to try to see Cameron without drawing attention to himself. There was no sign of the man. He was reluctant to push through the crowds and go on a tour of the pub to find him, but there seemed no other option.

The door swung open and Cameron walked in. He towered over the other customers as he scanned the room. Simon reached out and tapped him on the arm. Cameron turned and his face lit up when he saw Simon.

“There you are!” he shouted. “Sorry I’m late. Last minute panic before—"

Simon raised a finger to his lips and held up his hand to stop Cameron talking. “It’s absurdly crowded in here,” he said. “If you want me to hear your Palace secrets, you’ll have to talk so loud that half the damn pub will hear. Let’s go outside.”

Cameron nodded and went out into the street again. Simon followed. The door slammed shut behind them and the level of noise dropped immediately.

“That’s better.” Simon walked a couple of paces to the end of the building and stopped at the corner of the side street Bill had parked in and the main street. The car was a few yards away with the engine running. Simon could see the orange glow of Bill’s cigarette through the windscreen. “So, what’s this all about?” he asked. “And have you got my spare key? I don’t mind, really. Only I needed them this morning.”

Cameron looked puzzled. “I have nae got yer key.”

“Oh,” Simon replied. “Only I thought you took it when you took the pound note this morning.”

“Look, I’m sorry.” Cameron stared down at his feet. “I left a note. I needed the money to get back to St James’s on time. Otherwise they’d ha’ kicked me ‘oot.” He looked up. “But I didna’ take yer key.”

Now Simon was puzzled. If Cameron had not taken the spare key, who had? He recalled the open front door when he returned to the flat that afternoon. There was no sign of a forced entry. Perhaps his assailant had got hold of the key and simply let himself in. But who had given it to him? It was something he would have to think about later.

Cameron peered at Simon’s face. “Are ye nae well? Ye look as if ye’re waiting at death’s door for the devil tae open it.”

“It’s been a difficult day,” Simon replied. This was not the time to reveal he was a wanted man. “Tell me what this is about. Bill said you had some information for me.”

“Aye, it’s mighty strange,” Cameron replied. “It’s tae do wi’ that German duke I’m tae look after.”

“Charles Edward,” Simon said. “Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha.

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