The Last Word in Pickles: A Gentleman Detective Mystery (The Gentleman Detective Mysteries Book 4) by James Evelyn

Author:James, Evelyn [James, Evelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Raven Publications
Published: 2022-06-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

It was a relief to get away from the Muckleburgh residence. They both felt it as they travelled home. Victoria seemed to be better able to take deep breaths the further and further she got away from the house of gloom. Bainbridge relaxed as well, his stomach noticeably spreading as he settled in his seat. By unspoken agreement they said nothing about the case on the drive home. They needed some respite for the moment.

Mrs Huggins was preparing tea when they arrived. She had crumpets toasting and freshly made scones. She took one look at Bainbridge’s drawn face and hastened to make some sandwiches as well. She was sure he would need the sustenance.

They headed into the sitting room which received the best light at this time of day. A table stood just proud of the wall and was already arranged with various condiments for their afternoon refreshment. Bainbridge picked up a jar labelled Afternoon Fruit Pickle , his favourite for spreading on scones. Naturally, it was a Muckleburgh brand. He stared at the label, his appetite fast waning. Victoria took it out of his hand, gently.

“You should never meet the people you admire from afar,” Bainbridge remarked. “Famous people, I mean. I always thought if I ever met the Queen, it would be quite a shock and I should not be able to stand it. Some people are meant to only be viewed from a distance.”

“You should sit,” Victoria told him gently.

Bainbridge seemed to suddenly notice the chair, along with the ache in his knees and back. He sat down.

“All my life I have adored the Muckleburgh pickles,” he said. “I took jars of them with me on campaign. I had them ordered to Indian. I could have had other pickles from other makers that were locally available, but it was not the same. I have never deviated Victoria. I must be one of their most loyal customers.”

“Had Ivan still been alive, I am sure he would be glad to hear that,” Victoria said softly.

“This murder business,” Bainbridge went on without really hearing her. “I shall never be able to look at a jar again the same way. I shall always be thinking of what became of Ivan. Of the murder of a creative genius.”

“I am not sure pickle recipes are quite the sort of thing to warrant calling a man a gen…” Victoria stopped herself, for once she decided it was not necessary to counter her uncle’s thoughts. “This is a terrible business, but I think Ivan would be upset to hear you cannot separate his life’s work from his unfortunate death. Once we have this matter resolved, you shall look at his pickles knowing you found justice for their creator and that will be a good thing, will it not?”

Bainbridge was lost in his world of woe.

“Julius, you cannot allow this terrible deed to destroy your…” Victoria battled for the right word, how did you describe an obsession with pickles in a polite and respectful fashion? “You shall show your respect for Mr Muckleburgh by continuing to enjoy his pickles.

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