The Quartermain Mysteries by Daphne Coleridge

Author:Daphne Coleridge
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, cozy mystery, traditional British, women sleuths, English mystery, special forces, aristocracy
Publisher: Daphne Coleridge
Published: 2015-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Through a Glass Darkly

It was exactly a week since Brigadier Harris Butterworth and the body of his brother-in-law, Gerald Dennis, had apparently disappeared without trace, and without arousing the suspicions of anyone except Anna Quartermain, who happened to have disturbed the Brigadier in the process of going through the man’s pockets. Now Anna was accompanying Kay Trelawny to Herefordshire, the county in which Quartermain House, Anna’s home for nearly five years, was situated. It was not, however, to Q House that they were heading, but to “Dormouse” Halstead’s home – a largely unaltered hunting lodge, with impressive chimneys and a splendid view.

“Molly is his sister,” Kay was telling Anna, as they pulled up the muddy drive. “She is a sweet old thing, but quite as odd as Dormouse.”

The two of them made their way along a narrow, un-weeded pathway and round to the back of the house. The door offered neither bell nor knocker, but Kay banged it sturdily with his fist, and after a few moments there were sounds of a bolt being drawn back and the door opened a crack.

“Well, it’s Mr Trelawny!” exclaimed a woman’s voice, and the door was opened to reveal the speaker – small, rather frail, but tidily dressed and with a ready smile for both of them. “And who is this? One of your funny, foreign friends, no doubt. You’ll both be wanting some tea. I’ll call David.” She hobbled off with surprising speed towards the kitchen, pausing to knock at a door on her way. The door duly opened, and a man of about seventy, white-haired, but with bright, beady eyes and the same smile as his sister, came out.

“Kingdom! I told Molly to expect you...and you’ve brought a young lady to see me. Now, you did tell me her name, but...”

Anna stepped forward and held out her hand. “Anna Quartermain,” she said.

“Quartermain...any relation to Quartermain the historian?”

“My husband was something of a historian,” she admitted.

“Augustus Quartermain? He was an authority on the Napoleonic wars. I’m more of a medievalist, myself, but I’ve read many of his essays. How is he these days? I haven’t seen him for years.”

“Viscount Quartermain was killed last year,” explained Kingdom, to save Anna from any embarrassment.

“Oh, dear, I am sorry. But if you will give guns to foreigners, what can you expect?” came his bewildering reply. “Anyway, come into my study.” He ushered them into what must have been the largest downstairs room. It was gloomy and surprisingly cold, considering that it was a summer’s day. The whole room was full of books, papers, boxes, and a couple of ancient looking typewriters and several other similar devices, all equally antiquated. “Now, what have you got for me this time, Kingdom?”

“Actually, Anna had something she would like you to look at.”

“Andrew left it for me,” Anna explained, handing the piece of paper to him. I think that it is some sort of clue to where he left some documents.”

“Ah, yes – how interesting,” replied David Halstead, without so much as glancing at it.

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