Murder at the Polo Club by C.J. Archer

Author:C.J. Archer [Archer, C.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.J. Archer

Being a Wednesday, the crowd wasn’t as large as the one that gathered for the previous Saturday’s cup final. Even so, I couldn’t immediately find Harry. I did, however, run into Floyd, who had seen my sleuthing partner a few minutes earlier, so he told me through lips pursed so tightly they hardly moved.

“You got him a voucher, didn’t you?”

“Mr. Hobart did, if you must know.”

“Using your name, no doubt.”

“He probably used yours, since the Bainbridge name holds more weight than the Fox one.” I tried to step around him, but he blocked my path. “Don’t make a scene, Floyd.”

“He shouldn’t be here, Cleo. Guest vouchers should be reserved for guests of members.”

“Your snobbery is unbecoming and not worthy of you. Harry has helped you. You should be grateful.”

“I am. And I’m not a snob.”

I barked a laugh.

“I’m not! It’s the rules. If the club manager found out someone obtained a voucher through dubious means, he’d issue less of them next time. If he found out you were behind it, then he might banish me, or Flossy. She’d be humiliated.”

I wouldn’t put it past Major Leavey to banish me, but more to stop me uncovering a secret than because I broke the rules. A secret that explained why he’d removed Rosa Rivera’s ribbon from the victim’s body.

The players from the Elms team walked past us, leading their horses. Mr. Broadman saw me and slowed his pace. He looked like he was about to say something, but his teammate urged him forward and Mr. Broadman continued on.

The gathered crowd cheered, the loudest applause of all coming from Mr. Liddicoat as he watched his cousin with pride. I searched for Miss Hessing and saw her watching her paramour from where she sat on the picnic blanket beside Flossy. Her mother was in deep conversation with a friend who’d joined them, and didn’t applaud at all. She gave no indication that she’d seen the polo players, or even intended to watch the match.

Floyd followed my gaze. “Why didn’t you invite Mother to chaperone you, instead of Horrid Hessing?”

“Mrs. Hessing is here because I thought Miss Hessing would make a good companion for Flossy while I’m investigating. Besides, Aunt Lilian looked dreadful last night. She should rest today so she’s feeling refreshed for dinner.”

We both knew no amount of rest would refresh her, however. Despite being fatigued, sleep was difficult to find. She was restless after the effects of her tonic wore off, and increasingly anxious. It was difficult to know if the anxiety was a result of her lack of sleep or a symptom of the melancholy the doctor was supposed to be treating her for. Either way, the tonic he’d prescribed had become less and less effective.

Anxiety. Restlessness. Fatigue. Listed together like that, her symptoms sounded very familiar to another list I’d heard at this very club. When cataloged alongside her other symptoms, like loss of appetite and an increasingly short fuse, a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach opened up.

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