Death and Croissants: The most hilarious murder mystery since Richard Osman's The Thursday Murder Club (A Follet Valley Mystery) by Ian Moore

Author:Ian Moore [Moore, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788423571
Publisher: Duckworth Books
Published: 2021-06-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Tiptoeing around to the back of the house, Richard was shaking his head as he did so, trying to dislodge the image now firmly imprinted on his brain. He tried not to crunch his footsteps on the gravel or set off any more security lights, and as he reached the back door he was quietly proud of his efforts. He reached the door and looked in through the window into the large kitchen. There was an empty bottle of local white wine on the table and a few plates with crumbs from the amuse-bouche that Gennie always hand-prepared for her soirées. He could see through the kitchen to the more dimly lit corridor and beyond that the subtle, if that was the right word, red glow of the living room further on. It looked like someone had left the door open in a photographic dark room.

He hesitated before going any further. What he’d seen was upsetting enough, especially with the thought that the Rizzolis might still be hovering about. What checked him was also his exact whereabouts: the Thompsons’ back door. Martin’s endless, dull repetition of his ‘tradesman’s entrance’ double entendre recalled to Richard innumerable evenings spent in their company wishing he could be anywhere else but there. Martin is a crushing bore, he thought, as he pulled his hand away from the door handle again, but one in trouble too, he realised. He turned the handle slowly and walked softly into the kitchen, hiding to the right of the open door to the hall, listening for any movement. Satisfied that there was none, he tiptoed exaggeratedly down the hall towards the red light.

The living room door squeaked loudly as he pushed it open and he ducked back, just in case. When nothing happened he darted into the room. The view from this side of the window was no better than it had been from the outside. There, in the corner, were Martin and Gennie on the floor, sitting back to back and trussed up like Christmas turkeys. Their pale skin was goosebumped and the hair on their arms standing up as though they were being electrocuted. From where he stood he couldn’t see Martin’s face but he could see Gennie’s. Her mouth was covered in what looked like pink cling film, and her eyes were wide open, not so much in pain or shock at seeing Richard, but in slight embarrassment at her predicament.

He crept in, still wary that the Rizzolis might be around and signalled the question to Gennie for confirmation. She shook her head as best she could and he moved quickly over to the tethered pair. Martin had a look on his face about as far away from embarrassment as possible; his eyes were wide open too, but with what was clearly excitement. His mouth was also covered, but by a small studded black belt strapped around his face and with what looked like a red ball between his lips. Continuing the meat theme, thought a blushing Richard, Martin looked like a suckling pig.

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