The Unsolved Case of The Secret Christmas Baby: A Victorian Cozy Mystery (The Mrs Imogene Lynch Series Book 1) by Hannah Byron

Author:Hannah Byron [Byron, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789083215679
Publisher: Hannah Byron Books
Published: 2022-12-05T16:00:00+00:00

9

HOW TIMOTHY POCOCK BRIGHTENS MY AFTERNOONS

“Mrs Lynch! Mrs Lynch, do you know what I heard?”

That boy is so loud but also so lively. He makes my old heart enjoy life a little more.

“No Timothy, I haven’t heard. Pray, tell me. Look, Gertie’s put your lemonade ready for you and some biscuits for you and Jasper.”

For a moment, the ten-year-old with the spiky blond hair and brown eyes is too absorbed in slurping down his drink and sharing his biscuits with Jasper. My two sweet-toothed lads, I call them.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor with Jasper showing his white belly to be tickled, Timothy blows the tuft of hair from his eyes and looks up at me.

“Mother told me that Miss Platt is going to close her shop.”

An involuntary tremor goes through me. Is business that bad for the poor woman?

“Oh,” I reply, “that’s a sad business.”

Still caressing Jasper, Timothy, who’s a bit of an old soul, says contemplatively,

“Exactly what I told Mother, Mrs Lynch. I mean, it’s not good that she killed a baby, but she’s not in prison or anything. I don’t think she would kill another one, do you?”

I inwardly chuckle at the boy’s logic, but don’t show it.

“No, I think that if it happened, it was more of an accident. Miss Platt is not a criminal.” No need to tell the boy I have a hunch she wasn't even involved in it.

“Some people like Gerald Wilson think she is a baby serial killer. He says naughty words about her, like “witch” and “gun for hire.”

“Fie, Timothy, I don’t want you to use these words in my house.”

“Sorry, Mrs Lynch.” He looks guilt-ridden. “I just thought that you wanted to know these things, as you’re always so interested in everything about Miss Platt.”

This makes me sit up. If a small whippersnapper like Timothy Pocock is aware of my focus on Miss Platt, it’s probably obvious to everyone.

I defend myself by saying, “It’s not that, Timothy. We were all upset this spring and since then, things haven’t really calmed down around Miss Platt, have they?”

He focuses his wise-beyond-his-years eyes on me as if trying to read my mind. Then he says slowly, “I just thought that because Mr Lynch was a policeman, you would be a bit of a policewoman yourself.”

“Good guessing, young man. Shall I tell you about one case I helped solve for my husband?” His eyes light up with excitement, very much a ten-year-old again.

“Oh yes? Really?”

Now I wonder if it’s a wise decision to introduce such a young one to the ways of the law, but there’s no backing out.

“I want to be a policeman when I grow up.” He confides.

This makes me smile. Which boy doesn’t dream of that? I fear his parents want him to pursue an academic career, but I won’t spoil his dream for him.

For once, Timothy abandons Jasper to sit in the other armchair at my window. All readiness for my story in his school uniform and grazed knees. With a pang, I realize this will be the closest I’ll ever come to a son or grandson.

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