The Twelve Saints of Christmas: Heathcliff Lennox: A1920s Christmas murder mystery by Menuhin Karen Baugh

Author:Menuhin, Karen Baugh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little Dog Publishing ltd
Published: 2024-05-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

‘All rise.’ Justice St John took the top seat in the dining room as we arranged ourselves around the table for lunch. ‘We will mark the passing with prayers.’

Everyone lowered their heads, including Cicely Sissinghurst, who had joined us.

‘We offer prayers for those we have lost and those you have gained, dear Lord. We pray that the soul of Gregory Hackett finds safe haven and everlasting peace in your presence. For ever and ever, Amen.’

‘Amen,’ was muttered in response.

‘Now one minute of silence,’ St John demanded in an overloud voice.

We duly remained quiet. Fogg and all three cats wandered in, looked about in mild curiosity, then decided a game of tag was in order. No-one said a word but there were a few stifled giggles as the animals ran rings around our feet with as much noise as they were capable of.

‘All be seated,’ St John bellowed. ‘Jiggens, you may proceed.’

Greggs and Jiggens had been hovering on the threshold with tureens of soup. They entered in suitable pomp, chins raised above stiff collars. Greggs proceeded to serve the soup into bowls arranged on the sideboard while Jiggens rushed to place them in front of each of us. Two bread rolls each were under napkins on our side plates. I whipped mine off, then picked up my spoon and waited politely for a lady to make the first scoop. No-one did. We all sat with spoons poised, glances flicking one to the other, but mostly at us.

‘Right,’ I muttered under my breath and took a mouthful. They watched me in morbid fascination, including Swift. I frowned at him and he quickly started eating.

‘Excellent oxtail soup,’ I said loudly. ‘Please pass our compliments to the cook, Jiggens.’

‘Will do, sir.’ The lad forced a grin, pretending that everything was entirely normal. ‘And the bread…?’

I duly took a roll and broke it open, then dipped it into my soup and took a bite. ‘Perfect,’ I mumbled through the crust.

Swift and I were almost finished before the rest of them took their first sip of soup. I was of half a mind to grab my throat and pretend to gasp for breath, but decided against.

‘The library key, Inspector.’ Cicely made a show of handing the key to Swift. ‘I trust you will make good progress in your endeavours.’

‘So do I,’ Swift muttered.

We’d been a little late in arriving because we’d dashed up to the Chamber of Curiosities after I’d told Swift what Lockhart had told me. Rackham had the key and wanted to come, but we forbade him. All these locks and keys were becoming a damned nuisance and made me realise why things were left open.

The jar of jellyfish powder was indeed empty, and smelled of carbolic. It was impossible to tell when the contents had been purloined. We’d examined the curare at the same time, thinking it may have been smeared on the bone needle. The jar and contents appeared untouched, which had given us pause. We fingerprinted it anyway – it

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