Gin & Murder: A Violet Carlyle Cozy Historical Mystery (The Violet Carlyle Mysteries Book 8) by Beth Byers

Author:Beth Byers [Byers, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“I understand that you spent some time with Mr. Wakefield in the folly?” The way the question was phrased made it seem quite…salacious.

Violet’s gaze narrowed on the inspector. She didn’t think he even saw her reaction. “I did.”

“You were there when Mr. Theodophilus Smythe-Hill arrived?”

“We had just left the drawing room and entered the garden when his auto arrived.”

Violet didn’t elaborate. She didn’t care for the tone of this man, and she wasn’t going to indulge him.

“And then?” His lips twitched a little bit.

“Then I walked with my betrothed through a few of my favourite parts of my father’s garden, where we talked about our future, kissed, and returned to the house after a while.”

“How long?”

Violet shrugged. “I wasn’t keeping track.”

“Ahh.” Again with the salacious inference.

Violet glanced at her father, but he seemed to be snoozing. She smiled at him. The big…big…faker. She’d bet her fortune Father was taking in every word and gesture despite his eyes being seemingly closed.

“When we left the drawing room, I had little concern for the time nor do I have a curfew, Mr. Wright.”

“Inspector.” He frowned at her.

“Of course,” Violet said, with enough attitude to make him wonder if she was mocking him. She was, in fact, so she credited him as being a better detective than she would have thought.

“Did you have further questions, Wright?” Jack’s voice was smooth and cool.

The inspector scowled at Jack. It must be difficult to be in charge of a case where one of London’s most respected detectives was looking on. Violet might have been sympathetic if he wasn’t so determined to focus his ire on her.

“So you left your lover—where?”

“I was in the kitchens, speaking with Cook. Jack and I entered through the kitchen door, spoke with Cook for a few minutes, who was making a tray. I made myself a plate of biscuits. Jack left to speak with Father, who was in the library as he always is at that hour, and I stepped into the drawing room to gather up a bottle of ginger wine.”

“The bar cart was across the room on the other side of the body. How did you trip over it?”

Violet shuddered at the memory. She had thought to be sneaky and turned out she had been stupid. If she had simply turned on the light, she could have screamed, gotten help, and had an alibi. If she hadn’t wasted the time moving through the room in the dark, digging through the cart, feeling the bottles rather than using a light. Instead, she’d practically rolled over the body, contaminating it and herself.

“I had hoped to avoid other guests.”

“It was dark.” The inspector’s voice showed doubt, and Violet didn’t blame him for it. It would have even been silly if it hadn’t ended with a body.

“I knew I could find the bottle in the dark.”

The inspector looked dubious.

“Victor always buys the kind that has stars on the bottle. You can feel them even when it’s dark.”

“Do you drink a lot in the dark?”

“Only ginger wine,” Violet told him rather too honestly.

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