Ragtime in Simla by Barbara Cleverly

Author:Barbara Cleverly [Cleverly, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Traditional British, Mystery & Detective, Fiction
ISBN: 1841197408
Google: X0eFYG7f0ZIC
Amazon: B00CMAD2NS
Publisher: C & R Crime
Published: 2003-02-14T18:30:00+00:00

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Chapter Fourteen

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They were quiet for a moment after their outburst, looking intently at the printed page as though it could give them yet more information.

‘I’ll tell you something else,’ said Carter, holding the paper up to the light. ‘Do you see this? It’s very faint but there’s been a pencil mark by the name of Isobel Newton. To draw Korsovsky’s attention to it perhaps?’

‘Who is this Korsovsky you keep mentioning?’ asked Simpson.

Joe told him about the Russian’s death and his suspicions that there existed some link between Alice Sharpe or – as he now had to think – the woman calling herself Alice. He described the note in girlish handwriting on the programme from the Nice Opera House. Simpson picked up at once the reference to Nice.

‘Isabelle de Neuville was on her way to Nice. She seemed to know the area well. Could there be a connection?’

‘Certainly. We know that Feodor Korsovsky was also on his way to the south of France that summer – look, it’s mentioned on an inner page… here it is… recitals in the Roman amphitheatres of Provence. That’s not far from Nice, is it? Perhaps Isabelle was counting on seeing him there?’

‘Bit far-fetched,’ Carter said dismissively. ‘And don’t forget that if there was any connection between Korsovsky in 1914 and this English Isobel who was French Isabelle and is now English Alice, what we’re looking at is a steaming love affair between a – say seventeen- or eighteen-year-old English girl and a Russian singing star in his mid-thirties. And this is a well-bred English girl, product of an English public school and reader of Wind in the Willows! Can’t see it myself.’

‘There is one way of finding out for certain,’ said Simpson. ‘I’ll take a look at this Alice Sharpe. I think I’d remember which was which,’ he added.

‘Two problems,’ said Joe. ‘No one is going to take your word – excuse me, Simpson, I mean no offence – injured as you were at the time…’

‘Not sure I do myself!’

‘And secondly…’ Joe paused for a moment. ‘Remember that two men from Alice-Isobel’s past have been shot dead before they could get a look at her. If you think we’re going to let you come anywhere within sight of our Alice you’re mistaken!’

‘Good Lord!’ said Carter, suddenly alert. ‘That’s right. Look, Simpson, does anyone in Simla know your name? Know who you are? Think carefully, man!’

Simpson thought for a moment. ‘Only you two. I came straight here from the station. I haven’t checked into the hotel yet.’

‘That’s all right then. I booked the room in my own name,’ said Carter. ‘Now how are we going to manage to get you close enough to her without her being able to see you? You are, after all, Simpson, rather a distinctive figure. Look, if you don’t mind lying in wait in the post office you could watch out for her when she leaves her office to go home at one o’clock. She always takes a rickshaw.

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