A Simple Country Mystery by Blythe Baker

Author:Blythe Baker [Baker, Blythe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-25T05:00:00+00:00

9

“This writer claims that all of the murders in Brookminster are related somehow?” I asked, leaning over the paper with Irene, who was quickly scanning the words.

“Seems that way,” Nathanial said. “Go ahead and read it.”

The writer was rather long winded, giving a lengthy history of the dark deeds that apparently had occurred in Brookminster over the last one hundred years, describing the town as perfect on the surface, but dark and rotten on the inside.

The heart of the article, though, was a complete shock…and something that I would never have expected.

“I must admit, I’m confused,” I said, looking up at Irene and Nathanial. “This writer thinks that Mrs. Lowell’s killing, as well as the killing of all the others in town in the last few months…were because of a prison camp outside of town?”

Nathanial leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “We all know that isn’t true, but we still don’t know who killed Mrs. Lowell, do we?”

“Where is this camp?” I asked. “I’ve never even heard of it.”

“There aren’t many outside of Brookminster that do know about it,” Irene said, giving her husband a nervous look. “It’s on a farm to the north of here, certainly far enough away from the town, and heavily guarded, no less.”

“And this is where what sort of prisoners reside?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.

“Well…” Nathanial said, shifting uncomfortably. “During the war, it seems they’ve been keeping German prisoners of war there.”

My jaw dropped open. “They’re keeping Germans…here?” I asked.

“It’s far enough removed from the bigger cities that they aren’t a safety concern,” Nathanial said. “And if they were to escape, they wouldn’t get far before someone more familiar with the area would be able to catch up with them.”

“But what about Brookminster?” I asked. “What about our safety?”

“Helen, dear, it is safe,” Irene said. “They have all been put to work under heavy guard, farming the land. The food they dig up is sent to our troops, and they are paying for their crimes against – ”

“Farming seems far too easy,” I said. “These men have killed our soldiers, dropped bombs on our cities – ”

“I know,” Nathanial said. “I know,” he said again, more gently. “But they really are under heavy guard. And none of the soldiers have ever tried to escape. I would know. I’ve been there, and asked around.”

“Been there?” I asked. “Why?”

“His brother is one of the guards,” Irene said.

“I see,” I said.

“Who is this writer?” Irene asked, pointing to the newspaper lying on the counter. “They’re claiming that one of the Germans did escape, and they were the ones responsible for Mrs. Lowell’s death.”

Nathanial picked up the paper, examining the article once again. “I’m not certain; it says it is anonymous. But we can easily dismiss the whole article as nonsense, since we all know very well that an escaped German soldier was not the one who killed anyone else that has died here recently.”

“Can we dismiss it so readily, though?” Irene asked. “The war is escalating, and I imagine that camp is becoming full.

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