BnEM02 - Murder Flies the Coop by Ellicott Jessica

Author:Ellicott, Jessica [Ellicott, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cThriller
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-07-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Beryl felt the slightest bit disloyal as she whipped down the country lanes on her way to the village of Hambley. While she thoroughly enjoyed Edwina’s company almost all of the time, it felt quite wonderful to open up her automobile full throttle and to really put it through its paces. She took each curve in the road with verve and arrived at the mining village in record time. Once again a gaggle of men and boys clustered around the vehicle and she came to a stop in the center of the village. By the time she had answered their questions and thanked them for their admiring comments, any time that she had saved on the road had been well and truly used up.

She finally managed to make enquiries as to the whereabouts of Dennis Morley. Luckily he had been on an earlier shift and she was told, if he were adhering to his usual routine, he could be found tending to his pigeons on the outskirts of the village. A grizzled old man pointed the way. She thanked him and headed straight for a grassy patch stretched out beyond the small living quarters.

There were quite a number of pigeon lofts clustered together but one seemed more professionally assembled than the others. She guessed it likely that a man with Mr. Morley’s experience would be the one in charge of such a thing. It was large, far larger than the one Mr. Cunningham had assembled on his allotment. In fact, it was large enough to look more like a toolshed than a coop. It put Beryl in mind of the potting shed where she had often enjoyed a furtive tipple with Simpkins.

She rapped upon the door and waited for a voice from within to beckon her to enter. When one did so she pressed on the latch and stepped inside. There at the end of the small room sat a man in his twenties. Unlike so many others, he had all his limbs intact and no visible facial disfigurements. Perhaps his work with the pigeons had kept him far enough back to avoid some of the worst of the fighting.

“My name is Beryl Helliwell. I’m looking for Mr. Dennis Morley,” she said, taking a step forward.

“Then you found him. Aren’t you one of the detectives who found Lionel Cunningham’s body?” Mr. Morley asked.

“As a matter of fact I am. I also happen to be acquainted with your wife,” Beryl said.

“My Alice told me all about you and your business partner, Miss Davenport. She’s all excited about getting the mining community involved with the May Day celebration. Are you here about that?” Mr. Morley asked. “Or are you here in your capacity as an adventuress? Do you have some new lark planned involving coal mines?”

“As intriguing as your suggestion is, I’m here to speak to you about your involvement with the long-distance pigeon racing club over in Walmsley Parva,” Beryl said. “Do you mind if I sit down?” She pointed to an upturned milk crate.

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