Body on Baker Street by Vicki Delany

Author:Vicki Delany
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC022070 Fiction / Mystery & Detective / Cozy
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books

Chapter 10

On Monday mornings in summer and autumn, Violet and I change our routine, and rather than walking the usual route through our neighborhood, we head into town. It’s market day in West London, and I love little more than poking around the farmers’ stalls. It was early in the season, so not a lot of fresh local produce was available, but I filled my woven basket with a variety of lettuce and arugula, an abundance of yellow and purple beans, green onions, and snap peas. I chatted to the farmers and craftspeople as I browsed, and people stopped to admire Violet.

“No tomatoes yet?” I said to a teenage girl taking money at her family’s farm stand.

“Couple of weeks still to go. You can’t rush a tomato.”

“I know, but I’m getting very impatient.”

“The warm spring has helped, and everything’s looking good so far.”

I could almost taste a deep-purple, bright-yellow, or cheerful-red cherry tomato on the tip of my tongue. Some things in life are worth waiting for. A locally grown heirloom tomato in season, eaten warm from the sun, is one of them.

I handed over my money, but before I could move on, a woman came up to me. “I can’t believe what happened on Saturday. Renalta Van Markoff, dead. They’re saying she was murdered. Is that right, Gemma?”

She was a regular at the Emporium. I struggled to remember her name. I knew she had a huge crush on Martin Freeman, that she watched the Jeremy Brett version of The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle every Christmas, that she loved dark and gritty historical novels and had most recently purchased Wishful Seeing by Janet Kellough, that her kitchen was full of mugs inspired by the BBC Sherlock series, and that she dried her dishes with Benedict Cumberbatch’s portrait. I also knew that her husband was having an affair with a friend of a friend of Jayne’s mother. All that, and I couldn’t remember her name. “So it seems,” I said. “You were there on Saturday, weren’t you?”

“Yes. Renalta was so interesting. I enjoyed her talk, and I was excited about getting a book signed by her. Such an over-the-top personality, wasn’t she? A true original.”

“I wouldn’t have thought her books were to your taste. You usually like more realistic novels.”

“Who wouldn’t love Renalta? And having met her, who wouldn’t love her books? They were so like her, weren’t they? I bet she took inspiration for the character of Desdemona Hudson from her own life.”

Bored of this conversation, Violet tried to wander off. I gently tugged on the leash to pull her back. “Did you speak to the police about Saturday?”

“A young officer came around to the house and took my statement. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t tell them anything. I didn’t see anyone acting suspiciously. Did you?”

“No, I didn’t.” Violet was straining at the leash now, urging me to get a move on. “Gotta run. We’re getting in some new Sherlock jigsaw puzzles. I’m expecting them by the end of the week.

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