Deadly Plot (A Bunch Courtney Investigation Book 5) by Jan Edwards

Author:Jan Edwards [Edwards, Jan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penkhull Press
Published: 2024-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Thursday 25th

Dodo had pulled out all the stops to make a Banyards Christmas for Georgi. In spite of the dearth of tinsel and lametta in the shops, the six-foot tree in the entrance hall was a cascade of glass baubles and bells and coloured lights. Swags of greenery swathed the banister and sills and continued into the drawing room where a second huge tree was surrounded by gifts that Dodo had wrapped in butcher paper.

“Patterned by mine and Georgi’s own fair hands with potato stamps and ink.” Dodo laughed at Beatrice’s raised eyebrows. “Nanny showed me how and we had such fun with it. Oh, I know Georgi won’t remember it,” she added as her guests admired her handiwork, “but I want her to grow up with all of the traditions that I did. Not on Perringham’s scale, but the trees and bringing in the greens and everything.”

“It all looks splendid,” said Bunch. “Where’s Maurice?”

“His CO called him early this morning,” Barty replied. “Some sort of flap on.”

“Will he be back this evening?”

“He hinted he wouldn’t be back before tomorrow.”

“Do you think he knows where he’s off to?” Beatrice asked.

“He would be hard pressed to complete a mission if he didn’t,” said Emma. “He’s a good pilot. It’s why they chose him.”

“I know,” Dodo replied. “I just wish they could have waited a day or two.”

“He’ll be back,” she said. “Some missions, though, simply can’t wait.”

“And best not to ask too much.” Barty avoided Dodo’s gaze and busied himself with pouring a fresh glass of sherry. “Can’t expect a chap to say too much,” he added. “Walls have ears.”

“Not in one’s own home, surely,” Beatrice said.

“Best not break the habit. Slip of the lip, as the saying goes. Eh, Henry?”

“Absolutely,” he replied.

“I don’t disagree,” said Beatrice. “I simply prefer not to trot out every ministry poster imaginable as a topic for polite conversation. It’s not good for the digestion.”

“Er, no. I was just … um … ahh, there’s the gong.” He offered Beatrice his arm and led them into the dining room. The tree there was smaller and decorated more simply, as were the swags on the mantle, but the table made up for any lack of glitter. The pure white damask tablecloth could barely be seen beneath the settings. Though it was daytime, candles had been lit in silver candle holders positioned down the centre of the table, along with two large silver bowls crammed with winter greenery plus a few strategic and, Bunch suspected, unfeasibly hard to obtain, red and white roses.

It reminded Bunch of dinners at Perringham House. Which is obviously what Dodo was intending.

“Miss Tinsley,” Henry called across the table. “I hear you went to Albert Hall last week.”

“It’s Emma, please. And yes I did, indeed. They were performing Messiah, which did surprise me a little. German composers are not terribly popular.”

“Handel doesn’t count,” said Beatrice. “He’s buried at Westminster, if memory serves. And they have had Messiah at Albert Hall every year since 1871.”

“They have,” Henry agreed.

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