Murder in France: a 1920s cozy historical mystery (A Ginger Gold Mystery Book 21) by Lee Strauss

Author:Lee Strauss [Strauss, Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781774092354
Publisher: La Plume Press
Published: 2022-11-29T05:00:00+00:00

14

On reflex, Haley grabbed Ginger’s arm before her mind even registered what was happening, effectively preventing a dangerous crack of Ginger’s beautiful head. She also pulled Ginger’s falling body away from the most dangerous pieces of broken glass.

“Ginger!” Haley hovered over her friend with growing alarm as she watched Ginger’s lips turn a shade of blue despite the red lipstick coating them. Lowering her ear to the lips, Haley held her breath, only exhaling when she determined that Ginger was still breathing. Two fingers on Ginger’s porcelain neck confirmed a weakened pulse.

“We need an ambulance!” Haley shouted, then again in French. “Appelez une ambulance!” Haley wasn’t as fluent in French as Ginger was, but she knew enough French to follow her lectures, and her medical terminology was in order.

Haley removed the pearls Ginger wore, then stroked the red strands of hair off her face. “Stay with us, Ginger. Help is on the way.”

A crowd had gathered, and a familiar form broke through the ranks, the footman Beaufort.

“Madame Reed!” he said with a start. Then to Haley, “What is wrong with her?” He spoke French, but his meaning would’ve been clear if he’d been speaking a primitive African tongue.

Haley shook her head. Did someone poison her? But how? Ginger had been with her the whole evening, and Haley herself was fine. They had had nothing to eat and the champagne Beaufort had delivered to them was their only drink. She stared at the footman working as a waiter with eyes of suspicion. How prudent to be so close to the scene and amongst the first to show concern.

Taking a whiff of Ginger’s shallow breath, Haley detected notes of bitter almonds through the tartness of the champagne. Cyanide?

“Beaufort, get me my black bag.” The footman-turned-waiter gave her a perplexed stare.

“Quickly!” Haley pointed to her chair, where the bag sat on the floor, and the man hurried to do her bidding, delivering the bag in short order. While Beaufort was busy doing that, Haley commanded a maid to bring her a glass of water and another of lemonade—an offer for those who didn’t want to drink alcohol—and to ask another maid to find a bit of washing soda, commonly used to spot clean fashion garments.

Haley kept a small jar of iron supplements in her black bag. She broke a capsule into the lemonade and mixed the washing soda into the water. Together they were known as Solutions A and B and were known to neutralise the effects of cyanide poisoning.

Haley coaxed Ginger to drink each glass, one at a time. Ginger responded with a gag reflex, but Haley stroked her neck to encourage swallowing, and most of the concoctions were consumed.

Haley turned back to the footman who had remained, watching. “Beaufort,” she began, “please put on your gloves, then pick up this glass.” She pointed at the shards of Ginger’s champagne glass. “Put it into a cloth napkin. Carefully, now. It’s evidence for the police.”

Haley watched to ensure Beaufort did exactly as instructed, and when he was done, she took the wrapped glass pieces from him.

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