Season of Darkness by Maureen Jennings

Author:Maureen Jennings [Jennings, Maureen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780771043253
Publisher: McClelland & Stewart
Published: 2011-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

30.

TYLER LEFT THE TEA SHOP AND WALKED ALONG MAIN Street. Near the corner was a ladies’ wear shop called Madame Collette’s. About three years ago, a London woman had bought out old Mrs. Kilpatrick, who had been there ever since he could remember. The new owner had introduced fancy, high-priced frocks and imported lingerie. Today, the window displayed a single mannequin in a long nightgown of shimmering scarlet with thin straps; not particularly practical for the English unheated bedroom, but definitely provocative. All the other shops crammed as much of their merchandise as they could into their windows, but Madame Collette’s message was clear: “We don’t need to do anything as vulgar as display everything we have. We cater to the discriminating customer of taste, not to mention money.”

As he entered the shop, the bell on the door tinkled softly. The place was empty of customers and looked more like somebody’s front room than a shop. The carpet was light blue and thick, the walls papered in a delicate green and fuchsia. By the window was a grouping of chintz-covered chairs around a low table. Shelves stacked behind a counter at the far end of the room were the only concession to commerce that he could see.

A woman stepped out from the back room. She was wearing an elegant, simple black frock. She might have been forty, she might have been sixty; it was hard to tell with her immaculately made-up face and stiffly coiffed hair. She gave him a smile, perfectly balanced between warm (must look welcoming) and cool (mustn’t look too eager).

“May I help you?” She had a French accent but he couldn’t tell if it was real or fake.

“Good day, ma’am. I’m Inspector Tyler. I’m conducting a police investigation right now and I wonder if I might ask you a couple of questions.”

“But of course. I have heard of the tragedy that has occurred.”

“Did you know the young woman in question? Her name was Elsie Bates.”

Madame Collette, if that was indeed who she was, thought for a moment. “No, that name is not familiar to me.”

“As part of my investigation I’m interested in tracking down, er, a pair of pink silk cami-knickers with a black lace trim that you may have sold recently.”

One pencilled eyebrow rose slightly. “Yes, I remember very well the article you describe. They were an original design from Paris. Quite lovely appliqué in lace. Most feminine.”

“Do you recall who bought the, er, article?”

“Certainly. It was a young man. He said he was purchasing them for his fiancée.”

So much for Florence’s story about the cami-knickers being on loan from her sister.

Madame eyed Tyler shrewdly. “A most generous present I would say. They were not cheap.”

“Will you describe this young man to me?”

She pursed her lips. “I regret to say I am not good at paying attention to such detail. He seemed quite an ordinary young man, a soldier.”

“You mean he was in uniform?”

“Yes. But then they all are these days, aren’t they?”

“How tall was he? Fair or dark?”

“As I said I don’t particularly pay attention to such things.

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