The Sleuthing Starlet Mysteries by Bianca Blythe

Author:Bianca Blythe [Blythe, Bianca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: amateur sleuth, 1930s mystery, cozy historical mystery, historical mystery, female sleuth, golden age mystery
Publisher: Bianca Blythe
Published: 2019-06-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

When they returned to the house, the others were once again in the drawing room.

“Ah? Did you have a nice walk?” Mr. Rosenfeld asked with his customary joviality.

Cora murmured something in agreement, and the man beamed, as if he’d personally ordered the sun.

“Splendid. Then I suggest we all have a ramble,” Mr. Rosenfeld said. “There’s supposed to be a delightful place for cream tea in one of the local villages.”

Mr. Fawcett’s face darkened, as if affronted at the possibility of squeezing into a tea shop with the non-lofty, but he nodded. “Anything to leave this place.”

“We are going home,” Mr. Badger declared. “We should have left long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?” Mr. Fawcett asked.

“Something about constables swarming the house and wanting to interview us. All absolute balderdash.”

“Yes. What does my husband have to do with Bulgarian anarchists?” Mrs. Badger crinkled her nose.

“Well. I intend to go,” Mr. Rosenfeld said. “Who will join us?”

“I will,” Cora said hastily.

Veronica’s gaze narrowed momentarily, but she rose and slipped an arm through Mr. Rosenfeld’s. “As shall I. I am ever so fond of cream tea.”

Cora hid her smile. Veronica wasn’t fond of anything that hindered her efforts at reduction. She’d ranted at Cora that donuts and cakes should be denounced with the same vehemence as Bolsheviks, but that was the sort of thing one didn’t want to admit before a man. Effortlessness was prized.

They decided to simply take a taxi, and before long, they were moving along at a brisk pace over the winding road. Sheep frolicked in the green hills that seemed suited as backdrops for chocolate tins.

Mr. Rosenfeld rode in the front with the driver, effusing about the charm of the countryside and providing frequent qualifications about how he’d never give up the superior magnificence of London. The others were squeezed in the back seat, and Cora found herself sitting beside Natalia.

The vehicle followed the curves of the cliffs, swerving occasionally, and Cora wondered if this was where Mr. Ivanov had experienced a brakes failure.

“Were you present at your brother’s accident?” Cora asked Natalia.

Natalia shook her head, rustling the black netting of her hat. “It seems so ominous now. He made quite light of the fact that he lost control of the car. It seemed all quite fun, but now...”

Cora smiled sympathetically.

Natalia was quiet, perhaps musing over the fact someone had desired to kill her brother, had tried multiple times and then had succeeded. Then she lifted a gloved hand and pointed at a nearby farm. “I believe it happened there.”

Cora followed Natalia’s gaze to a fence that looked freshly repaired. The slabs of wood looked new compared to the weathered and dull color of the rest of the fence.

“Had the other guests arrived at Orchid Manor then?”

“Anyone could have entered the garage.” Natalia edged away from Cora slightly. “I hope you wouldn’t suggest that I made the car malfunction. What would I know about the inner machinery of automobiles?”

“Ladies, if you’re going to fight, perhaps it can wait until you return to Orchid Manor, and then you can proceed, preferably with pillows and rather less attire,” Mr.

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