Murder at the Car Rally by Sonia Parin

Author:Sonia Parin [Parin, Sonia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-18T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“A happy-go-lucky; neither craven nor valiant.” Moby Dick (1851)

Evie crossed her legs and swung her foot from side to side. Half an hour after hearing Phillipa’s tale, she still struggled to understand why Phillipa had blindly followed instructions left by an unknown person.

Tom handed Evie a cup of tea. “It’s chamomile.”

“Are you suggesting I need to calm down?”

“At the risk of incurring your wrath, I’d just like to say fretting won’t help.”

Evie’s foot tapped the air. “You actually expect me to be perfectly at ease with the idea of Phillipa searching her trunk and finding several packages with instructions to deliver them to several locations in the north of England. Foolish girl. I don’t understand what she could have been thinking.” Evie sat up and stomped her foot on the floor. “She’s lucky she’s not behind bars.” Grumbling under her breath, she added, “What if something had happened to her?” She looked up at Tom. “I know you’re now going to be the voice of reason but I am allowed to indulge in a rant, which in turn makes me feel old. Are they so happy-go-lucky they give no thought to consequences?”

“I suppose you’re referring to the bright young things.”

Evie sat back and drank her tea. “I’m inclined to think there is nothing bright about them.”

“You know I can hear you,” Phillipa said.

“Yes, but is anything I am saying sinking in?” Evie asked.

Phillipa inspected her nails. “None of us made a big deal out of it.”

The detective entered the library and appeared to hesitate. Evie didn’t blame him. Her head throbbed from holding her scowl in place.

“You’ll be pleased to hear I have no intention of beating about the bush,” he said. “Lorenzo Bianchi’s death is now being attributed to an overdose. Specifically, cocaine.”

Evie glanced at Phillipa. Before she could say anything, Phillipa jumped to her own defense. “I didn’t know I had been trafficking that substance. As far as I knew, the parcels contained nothing more than dressmaking material. In fact, the addresses I delivered the items to were dressmaking establishments.”

The detective cleared his throat. “The coroner had some other interesting findings.”

“We’re listening.” Evie could barely hide her surprise at his willingness to share more information.

“He found another substance in the victim’s system. Barbituric acid.”

“That sounds rather ghastly,” Evie remarked.

“And yet, you are probably quite familiar with a particular product named Veronal. It is used to cure insomnia.”

Evie slid to the edge of her seat. “Are you suggesting he fell asleep at the wheel?”

“Quite possibly. We believe Veronal had been mixed with cocaine. The coroner described the symptoms as sluggishness, incoordination, difficulty in thinking and shallow breathing. High dosages have been recently recorded as being responsible for victims falling into a coma and eventual death.”

“And this substance is being trafficked?” Evie asked.

The detective shook his head. “We have only come across cocaine. This leads us to believe Lorenzo Bianchi had been deliberately given or sold a deadly mix.”

Evie slumped back on her chair only to surge to her feet and stride to the window.

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