The Mystery of Mistletoe Hall: A Standalone 1920s Christmas Mystery (Lord Edgington Investigates... Book 4) by Benedict Brown

Author:Benedict Brown [Brown, Benedict]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Heathdene Books
Published: 2021-11-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Miss Viner left that pretty room just as she’d entered it; with her nerves racked and on the point of tears. At least she had a nice breakfast to comfort her. I’d barely had a single muffin when all that drama had commenced, and I was still starving.

“Do you really think she could have killed her uncle?” I had to ask once she’d left.

“I don’t know what to believe,” Grandfather responded. “I honestly don’t. Every hour dredges up a new possibility for who killed whom and why. The one thing I can say for certain is that no one must be ruled out entirely.”

I thought about this for a moment. In fact, I closed my eyes and imagined that it had been Miss Viner in the visored helmet, running at me with that sword. Horatio was right in that the killer was clearly wearing several layers of clothing, though it was hard to say whether this was merely to fight against the elements or better conceal his frame. Now that I thought more carefully, I realised that it wasn’t just the helmet the killer had been wearing, but chain-mail gloves too. So I couldn’t say whether it was Miss Viner’s dainty hand that had attempted to murder me, or one of the gentlemen’s big meaty blocks.

She wasn’t as tall as Idris Levitt or Dicky Prowse, but she was no Napoleon, either. Perhaps from down on the floor – as both Horatio and I had best regarded our assailant – she would have appeared taller than she really was. Perhaps she simply had thick soles on her shoes. The bigger question, I felt, was whether she would have had the strength to knock Horatio over with one push.

“Boy, what are you doing?” Grandfather asked when I’d been standing in the middle of the room for more than a minute with his dog still warming my feet and my eyes firmly closed.

“Oh, I… I was just trying to remember something.”

“Did it work?”

I gave a nervous laugh. “I’m afraid not. Everything is as hazy in my mind as it’s ever been. To tell the truth, if you suggested that Delilah was the killer, I’d end up finding the evidence to make it seem possible. That’s just how my mind works.”

He regarded me for a moment with his head turned at a slight angle. “Well, jolly good. That shows that your mental capacities are really starting to expand. Flights of fancy – whether correct or off the mark – are a key tool in a detective’s arsenal. You should be proud of what you’ve already achieved.”

This was unusually complimentary of him and made me feel rather chipper. “All right then; I will!”

“Fabulous. Now let’s have a look around outside, shall we?”

Delilah immediately dived behind the chair where Miss Viner had been sitting, so you can imagine how I felt. “I’d rather not, if you don’t mind. It’s awfully cold out there and I’m really not dressed for the snow.”

“We’ll soon change that. There’s nothing like a walk in the fresh air to help one think.

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