Death Down the Aisle: A totally unputdownable 1920s cozy mystery (A Lady Eleanor Swift Mystery Book 11) by Verity Bright

Author:Verity Bright [Bright, Verity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803146980
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2022-08-30T16:00:00+00:00

Not long later, in the Rolls, Eleanor ruffled Gladstone’s ears where they lay in her lap as the last of Chipstone faded behind them. Clifford swung the car onto the main road and cleared his throat.

‘Perhaps now is a good time to relay the details of the telephone call I received while you were breakfasting?’

‘Yes, please, who was it?’

‘Mr Pockford, butler to the Davencourt household.’

She winced. ‘Bit of a risk, calling from their house telephone?’

Clifford tutted. ‘No butler worthy of his uniform would ever presume to use the house apparatus for personal use.’

‘Well, I wish mine would, if he needs to. So, Pockford telephoned you from where then?’

‘The local inn. It transpires, after my visit, he asked the rest of the staff for any update on domestic events. He was informed by the first footman that about a week before Miss Balforth’s murder, a man called whilst Mr Pockford himself had been dispatched by Lady Davencourt to complete errands in Oxford.’

‘Ah! A suspiciously timely dispatch, perhaps?’

‘Indeed. I arrived at precisely the same conclusion on hearing the footman’s narrative relayed. Evidently, this man presented his card and said Lady Davencourt was expecting him.’

‘Nothing unusual in that, is there?’

‘Nothing. Except that the card bore the man’s name only. A Mr Cramdon. No business insignia, no professional title, no address. All the more curious as well that Lady Davencourt not only received him but that none of the staff saw him leave, which was definitely before Mr Pockford himself returned.’

‘Very odd.’

‘Odder still, that a man of the same name should telephone the very next day.’

‘Really! So now we need to ask Hugh to quietly use his official sources to find out more about this Mr Cramdon.’

‘Already done, my lady. I took the liberty since the chief inspector mentioned last evening he would be in his office only briefly this morning. Had I come to you first, it would have been too late. He said he would investigate and get back to you.’

‘Top-notch, Clifford.’ She tried to keep her tone airy. ‘How did he… umm sound, by the way?’

‘Perhaps the best description would be… extremely disappointed’ – his lips twitched – ‘that I had called on your behalf.’

After several miles of hawthorn- and hazel-hedgerow lanes, and Eleanor dreaming of more evenings with Hugh, Clifford eased the stately vehicle onto a wide metalled drive flanked by immaculate grass. A smart painted sign declared they had arrived at Egglesbury Golf Course. Pulling up in front of the imposing clubhouse, he stepped around to open her door.

‘Ready, my lady?’

‘Always,’ she fibbed.

Inside, the whippet-thin attendant in a bottle-green suit ran a bony finger down the reception desk book. ‘You’re too late, I’m afraid, madam, though you’ve not long missed him. As his opponent for this morning cancelled at the last moment, he chose to play on alone. And this being a quiet time of day, I’d say’ – he looked up at the clock – ‘the gentleman might have reached as far as Old Harry’s Lure.’

Her butler’s expression let her know that wasn’t gibberish to him.

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