Mydworth Mysteries--Murder wore a Mask by Matthew Costello & Neil Richards

Author:Matthew Costello & Neil Richards [Costello, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-3-7325-6956-4
Publisher: Bastei Entertainment
Published: 2020-03-12T16:00:00+00:00

11. Anyone for Tennis?

Harry stood at one end of the court, finally alone.

It seemed that so many of the guests, many who had not seen him in years, wanted to come up, have a few innocuous welcoming words.

Harry – of course – responded gracefully.

It’s not as if they would suspect that Carmody’s death was any more than a heart attack?

As he waited for Kat to come out for the next match, Harry scanned the little groups of spectators, some holding tea cups and saucers, looking about as English as one can.

Others took the flute glasses being passed on silver trays. Benton was back to overseeing his troops, not helping out with canapés.

As one of the maids passed by, Harry looked at a glass.

“I say, what do we have here?”

The glass of something bubbly sent its steady stream to the surface, but also had a red object at the base as if it was generating the carbonation.

“Sir, champagne with a spot of brandy and bitters, and a maraschino cherry at the bottom.”

The girl’s accent… Pretty thick, thought Harry. Yorkshire perhaps?

“Well, wonders will never cease. English innovation at its finest.”

“Would you care for one, sir?”

“Tad early in the day for me, but thank you. Tea and some scones would be just lovely, though.”

The young server, keeping the tray perfectly balanced, curtsied, and then moved on.

Which is when he saw Palmer. Leaning against the side of the pavilion. Alone, with neither a cup of fortifying tea or the bubbly concoction.

And Harry thought, Not too sure what he made of my searching Carmody’s room.

The note sent to Carmody, folded in Harry’s jacket pocket, felt like an incendiary device.

And in a way it is, he thought.

It meant someone had lured Carmody to the grotto last night. And, given what Dr Bedell had said, that meant Carmody almost certainly had been murdered.

Eventually, Harry would need to talk to Palmer again.

But for now, that had better wait. Harry had learned, especially working with the ever-strategic Kat, that timing is nearly the whole ball of wax.

Ball of wax… one of her sayings.

Wherever do Americans get these expressions from? he thought.

Which is when two stunning women in near matching and brilliant tennis whites, came out onto the court.

One of them, his wife Kat.

*

Kat positioned herself towards the back, knees slightly bent, racquet up.

She turned and looked right to see a young man on a high chair, presiding over the net. Lavinia had installed one of her footmen as an umpire. So much for the casual game of tennis that had been promised the day before…

“Just a little knockabout, to clear the cobwebs away,” Lavinia had said.

But Kat had been around the English long enough to know that though on the surface a sport might be “just a game”, in practice it was anything but.

And certainly, Celine didn’t appear to be in any kind of playful mood.

That referee might well turn out to be helpful, she thought, considering how many arguments she had gotten into as a young girl.

Was a ball in or out?

Many a heated debate she had had on that weighty question.

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