Murder at Little Minton by Karen Baugh Menuhin & Zoe Markham

Author:Karen Baugh Menuhin & Zoe Markham [Menuhin, Karen Baugh & Markham, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little Cat Publishing Ltd
Published: 2023-05-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Freshly fallen snow overnight had coated Miss Busby’s garden and the orchard beyond, and she felt a frisson of renewed festive spirit when she opened the curtains next morning. The little terrier was clearly more settled, and must have come to some sort of arrangement with Pud, as there hadn’t been a single growl or hiss between them in the night.

Having fed the pair leftover scraps, she chivvied the cat outside just long enough to complete his requirements. Barnaby took a more leisurely approach and followed her to the log store to nose through the stock of wood. He found a stick and insisted on carrying it with him, tail happily aloft, as she filled her wicker basket with stout logs to resurrect the fire.

‘Drop it, there’s a good boy.’ Miss Busby held a hand out for the stick, whereupon the dog gave a muffled yip, then darted off up the stairs.

Deciding not to humour the animal by engaging with the game, she placed three logs on the fire and trusted the embers to do their work. Then enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of tea and honey on toast.

Thus fortified, she opened her box of Christmas decorations, and soon had the sitting room festooned with reams of bright-coloured crepe paper, china snowmen, wooden figures of Father Christmas and his little elves, angels with swan-feather wings and homemade felted reindeer. The nativity took a little longer as the donkey’s leg had fallen off and she had to hunt for glue to stick it back on again.

As more snow began to fall softly against the window, she found herself humming Good King Wenceslas, and once she’d finished most of the decorating, she decided to move over to her desk to make a start on the Christmas cards.

The sound of tyres crunching to a halt a few moments later, followed by footsteps stomping up the path, broke the peaceful mood.

‘Oh, lord,’ she muttered, having almost forgotten.

Several loud raps sounded on the door. Barnaby flew downstairs, grumbling and whining but clearly making a heroic effort not to yap.

‘Clever boy, you remembered,’ she told him, while contemplating not answering the door at all.

She did so, with a heartfelt sigh.

‘I suppose you’re behind this?’ Inspector McKay thrust a copy of the Oxford News towards her.

“Second body found at Little Minton” the headline proclaimed, with a sub-heading reading, “Two dead. Police clueless.”

It was quite clever really, she thought. Clues were indeed thin on the ground, after all.

‘Do come in, Inspector. I believe the author of the piece is listed at the end of the article,’ she said and held the door open wider. ‘Tea?’

‘Miss Busby, this is a serious matter. And I know very well who wrote it.’ He stalked inside. ‘I also know she was seen leaving your cottage late yesterday afternoon. Constable Miller said she almost ran him off the road.’

Miss Busby arched an eyebrow. ‘I hadn’t thought you so thin-skinned, Inspector.’

The inspector’s lips tightened in barely concealed anger. Barnaby let forth a low growl.

‘Miss

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