Death at Bayard Lodge by Winnie Frolik

Author:Winnie Frolik
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, historical, crime, lesbian, district nurse, private detective, 1930s, country house, death
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2022-08-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

TODD LED SHAEFER to a local shop where the clerk on duty looked askance at serving a foreigner. Even with Todd vouching for Shaefer, the clerk gave the latter the side eye the whole time he was looking around and insisted that cash payment rather than a check would be necessary. Still, in the end Shaefer was able to find everything he needed for traipsing around the countryside. Afterwards, he and Todd returned to the police station. They got there just in time for the arrival of Raymond Florry from London. To say that Raymond Florry looked a wreck would have been an understatement. It was the first either of them had seen of the young widower. His clothes were rumpled and he was without a tie, wearing mismatched socks. He had not shaved in the past two days, and his bloodshot eyes hinted he had not slept either. Shaefer was more than happy to stay on the sidelines while Inspector Todd conducted the interview. Of all the tasks he had found most unpleasant when working as a police officer, the worst one by far had been dealing with the bereaved.

“When can I take her?” These were the first words out of Raymond’s mouth. “Can I see her?” Todd and Shaefer exchanged glances.

“I wouldn’t advise that, sir,” Inspector Todd told him gently. “Not how she is now. Maybe after the undertaker’s done his work.”

“I see.” Raymond looked as if he were choking. “But when will the body be released then? My God.” He spoke softly as if to himself. “I have a funeral now to prepare.”

“The body will be released following the inquest,” Todd told him smoothly, while making sure not to say exactly when the inquest would be held. “For now, sir, as painful as it is, I do need to get your official statement.”

“Of course,” Raymond said dully. “But I’m rather parched.”

“How about some tea for Mr. Florry?” Todd asked Constable Punter who produced a mug of lukewarm Earl Grey.

Punter apologized for the lack of milk or sugar on hand, but Raymond waved it off. He grabbed the mug with both his hands as if to keep himself from shaking, before he quaffed it all down in a single gulp. He politely mumbled his thanks while thinking he could do with something a great deal stronger even if it was still early in the day.

Inspector Todd, looking at him, came to the same conclusion: Raymond Florry was a man in dire need of a stiff one. Unfortunately, it was departmental policy not to keep alcohol on the premises no matter how urgent the need. Instead, he took Raymond through all the preliminaries; the Florrys’ address, how long they had been married, the date he and Rachel had arrived at Bayard Lodge.

“Have you been having any sort of financial difficulties?” Todd asked with a delicate cough. For while it had to be asked, this was, in Todd’s experience, one of the areas where gentlemen were particularly sensitive. Bad form to talk so baldly about money or business, you know.

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