Her second attempt far more resembled Landseer’s skilful parody of the Dutch school, only, of course, the other way round. A most pleasing contrast. One might say, definitely amusing, and perhaps worth developing from a mere crayon sketch. Rather than the large brown dignity of the bloodhound, there was the plump grey pomposity of the pigeon. The impudent white terrier was a cheeky black-eyed sparrow, perched beside the pigeon on the window sill. Miss Seeton smiled.
Superintendent Brinton asked if Sir George could spare the time to pop across to Ashford for a discussion of the previous night’s events. Sir George demurred. His son and his young foreman had been in the fight, and were unable to work at full throttle today. He was needed to make up numbers. Brinton said in that case, so long as they didn’t expect him to join in anything laborious, he’d drive across at some time convenient to the General.
“All of ’em bandaged, some in plaster, a few in hospital,” he summarised, as the two men walked a field boundary and Sir George brooded over inactivity. “And all of ’em been charged—Choppers and foreigners alike.”
“Ah, yes.” Sir George stroked his moustache. “The, ah, Spanish chaps.” He coughed. “Odd thing to do, trying to pinch our mural. What’s it to them? If they want a memento of their visit, Welsted’s has postcards.”
“Ah, yes.” Brinton glanced at Sir George. “The Spaniards.”
Sir George cleared his throat. “Had a phone call from Delphick a while back. Thought I should know who they really were, just in case. Politics, you see. Assassins, and so forth. Watching brief.”
Brinton sighed. “The Oracle might have let me know—two heads being better than one—but anyway, they’ll all be deported after last night’s little upset, I imagine. Political asylum! They should be grateful we let them in the country at all, and they should keep quiet, not smash the place to bits the first chance they get. Two of my men were quite badly hurt.”
“Our own countrymen were involved, too.” A magistrate must be fair-minded.
“Oh, we’re throwing the book at them as well, but we’re stuck with our home-grown Choppers and we aren’t with the rest. Breaking and entering, causing an affray, grievous bodily harm, attempted robbery—we don’t need that sort of thing here. They can go back to Costaguana, or try their luck in Switzerland, or chuck themselves over a cliff, for all I care.”
“Robbery,” Sir George repeated. “As I said—odd.”
“Not the way they tell it,” said Brinton. “Boiling it down, there’s quite a few old Nazis in Latin America, boasting how one day they’ll be back and there are still folk who sympathise with the cause and are biding their time. For some reason El Dancairo latched on to Plummergen as the most convenient place to try. Young Foxon thought they might be after Armada silver to pay a bunch of mercenaries to reinstate him, and that was near enough. But they couldn’t get a handle on just where the oodle was hidden, hence all the midnight metal-detecting and torches and the rumours about—” he paused “—raising Hitler’s ghost,” he said quickly. “So when they came up against your tapestry project, everyone sworn to secrecy about what they were doing and talking about maps—and with their English not so good, and seeing the same few people in and out of the village hall locking the doors and planning a celebration, they decided it was a map of where the gold was hidden.” Sir George snorted. “Full of clues for a treasure-hunt.”
Sir George spluttered. Brinton sighed. “And I’m afraid your Mrs. Duncan didn’t really help,” he went on. “Quite by accident, of course, but that tenant of hers...” Mrs. Duncan, foreseeing rather more interest in Quill Cottage than she would like in the immediate future, had rented a bungalow in Hove for three months, letting her own home to an American historian keen to research Smugglers and Spying in Napoleonic Times. Professor Fehrenbach had turned out to be as skilled with a needle as with a pen. A second likeness of Manville Henty’s birthplace had been offered to the Quilt Committee, complete with the missing blue plaque that the whole village felt sure must not be long in being awarded. Should authority prove reluctant, then Plummergen would design and attach its own plaque...
“And the fools decided it was a clue, so they thought they’d better grab it before anyone else saw it and worked it out.”
“Mad,” said Sir George. “We’re lucky they didn’t take it into their heads Meg and the rest knew about the blasted gold and go in for a spot of kidnapping. Hot-blooded types. Might have turned nasty.”
“The Choppers thought there was buried treasure in the hall, the celebration being because someone had found it, and they were going to pinch it before the exhibition opened. Just as mad, in its own way. One lot hasn’t got the lingo, the other lot hasn’t got the brains. And between ’em both lots have caused us a lot of bother...”
He did not mention the plaint of El Dancairo, accusing his men of cowardice in the matter of giving him time to pull the mural from the wall while they held off the Choppers. From what the Choppers had said before their legal advisers advised them to keep quiet, thwarted of treasure, with nothing but “an old curtain and a load of scruffy books” to be seen, their frustration was such that only violence could relieve their feelings. The foreign trespassers had got all they deserved. The Choppers wished it had been more. Brinton charged them all and left Desk Sergeant Mutford to book them.
Sir George was thoughtful. “Good thing Miss Seeton helped find that hidden panel when she did. Nigel and Louise are going to live there, sooner or later. Not a good start to married life, burglars and treasure-hunters forever breaking into the place. Not as if it was worth that much, from what you say, but people do exaggerate. The children would never know a moment’s peace.”
“The word will get around. I’ll see to that.”
“Offer it to the museum once the legal people have decided, perhaps—like that ghastly Devil Henry painting. Not at all the sort of thing I’d care to live with.”
“Dr. Braxted will be thrilled.”
“Articles in academic journals, she says. The Roman hoard was a good start, but the priest’s hole and the rest will put her and the museum right on the map.”
“It was the map that caused all the trouble.” Then Brinton laughed. “Talking of trouble—do you realise, Sir George, there’s something odd about what happened last night?”
“The whole business has been dashed odd,” said Sir George.
Brinton shook his head, and laughed again. “Trouble, did I say? That was unfair. Oh, Miss Seeton was in it from the start—drawing her sketches, finding the painting, and the gold, and the buttons and buckles—but she wasn’t there last night! She stayed fast asleep right through, just like anyone else...”
And the superintendent laughed so heartily that Sir George, fond of Miss Seeton as he was, found that he, too, was laughing.
Back from their hard-earned leave, Chief Superintendent Delphick and Sergeant Ranger thankfully resumed regular detective service. During their absence the office had been purged of every single security file. They could, at last, talk to each other without having to stretch over, or peer round, teetering piles of paper.
“I suppose we’ll never find out who murdered Gabriel Crassweller,” said Bob, with a hint of regret. “Or what happens to the traitor—whoever it might be...”
In Plummergen, Miss Seeton caught the Brettenden bus, taking her latest watercolour, that amusing avian Dignity and Impudence, to be framed.
Note from the Publisher
While he was alive, series creator Heron Carvic had tremendous fun imagining Emily Seeton and the supporting cast of characters.
In an enjoyable 1977 essay Carvic recalled how, after having first used her in a short story, “Miss Seeton upped and demanded a book”—and that if “she wanted to satirize detective novels in general and elderly lady detectives in particular, he would let her have her head . . .”
You can now read Heron Carvic’s essay about the genesis of Miss Seeton, in full, as well as receive updates on further releases in the series, b
y signing up at http://eepurl.com/b2GCqr
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Miss Seeton’s Finest Hour . . .
The year is 1940 and the British have their backs to the wall. Everyone is preparing for the battle that, as Winston Churchill said, would see the “whole fury and might of the enemy turned upon us.” Everyone including the young Miss Emily Seeton, London art teacher, who finds her strangely prophetic sketches do not go unnoticed by the secret services.
At first suspected of being a fifth columnist, she soon finds herself recruited by the dashing Major Gerry Haynes and sent to carry out a very special observance task at a rural Spitfire factory. Faced with bombs, sabotage and murder, Miss Seeton must summon all her courage – it is after all her nature to Keep Calm and Carry On!
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About the Miss Seeton series
Retired art teacher Miss Seeton steps in where Scotland Yard stumbles. Armed with only her sketch pad and umbrella, she is every inch an eccentric English spinster and at every turn the most lovable and unlikely master of detection.
Reviews of the Miss Seeton series:
“Miss Seeton gets into wild drama with fine touches of farce . . . This is a lovely mixture of the funny and the exciting.”
San Francisco Chronicle
“A most beguiling protagonist!”
New York Times
“This is not so much black comedy as black-currant comedy . . . You can’t stop reading. Or laughing.”
The Sun
“She’s a joy!”
Cleveland Plain Dealer
“Not since Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple has there been a more lovable female dabbler in crime and suspense.”
Amarillo News
“Depth of description and lively characters bring this English village to life.”
Publishers Weekly
Further titles in the series:
Picture Miss Seeton
A night at the opera strikes a chord of danger when Miss Seeton witnesses a murder . . . and paints a portrait of the killer.
Miss Seeton Draws the Line
Miss Seeton is enlisted by Scotland Yard when her paintings of a little girl turn the young subject into a model for murder.
Witch Miss Seeton
Double, double, toil and trouble sweep through the village when Miss Seeton goes undercover . . . to investigate a local witches’ coven!
Miss Seeton Sings
Miss Seeton boards the wrong plane and lands amidst a gang of European counterfeiters. One false note, and her new destination is deadly indeed.
Odds on Miss Seeton
Miss Seeton in diamonds and furs at the roulette table? It’s all a clever disguise for the high-rolling spinster . . . but the game of money and murder is all too real.
Miss Seeton, By Appointment
Miss Seeton is off to Buckingham Palace on a secret mission—but to foil a jewel heist, she must risk losing the Queen’s head . . . and her own neck!
Advantage, Miss Seeton
Miss Seeton’s summer outing to a tennis match serves up more than expected when Britain’s up-and-coming female tennis star is hounded by mysterious death threats.
Miss Seeton at the Helm
Miss Seeton takes a whirlwind cruise to the Mediterranean—bound for disaster. A murder on board leads the seafaring sleuth into some very stormy waters.
Miss Seeton Cracks the Case
It’s highway robbery for the innocent passengers of a motor coach tour. When Miss Seeton sketches the roadside bandits, she becomes a moving target herself.
Miss Seeton Paints the Town
The Best Kept Village Competition inspires Miss Seeton’s most unusual artwork—a burning cottage—and clears the smoke of suspicion in a series of local fires.
Hands Up, Miss Seeton
The gentle Miss Seeton? A thief? A preposterous notion—until she’s accused of helping a pickpocket . . . and stumbles into a nest of crime.
Miss Seeton by Moonlight
Scotland Yard borrows one of Miss Seeton’s paintings to bait an art thief . . . when suddenly a second thief strikes.
Miss Seeton Rocks the Cradle
It takes all of Miss Seeton’s best instincts—maternal and otherwise—to solve a crime that’s hardly child’s play.
Miss Seeton Goes to Bat
Miss Seeton’s in on the action when a cricket game leads to mayhem in the village of Plummergen . . . and gives her a shot at smashing Britain’s most baffling burglary ring.
Miss Seeton Plants Suspicion
Miss Seeton was tending her garden when a local youth was arrested for murder. Now she has to find out who’s really at the root of the crime.
Starring Miss Seeton
Miss Seeton’s playing a backstage role in the village’s annual Christmas pantomime. But the real drama is behind the scenes . . . when the next act turns out to be murder!
Miss Seeton Undercover
The village is abuzz, as a TV crew searches for a rare apple, the Plummergen Peculier—while police hunt a murderous thief . . . and with Miss Seeton at the centre of it all.
Miss Seeton Rules
Royalty comes to Plummergen, and the villagers are plotting a grand impression. But when Princess Georgina goes missing, Miss Seeton herself has questions to answer.
Sold to Miss Seeton
Miss Seeton accidentally buys a mysterious antique box at auction . . . and finds herself crossing paths with some very dangerous characters!
Sweet Miss Seeton
Miss Seeton is stalked by a confectionary sculptor, just as a spate of suspicious deaths among the village’s elderly residents calls for her attention.
Bonjour, Miss Seeton
After a trip to explore the French countryside, a case of murder awaits Miss Seeton back in the village . . . and a shocking revelation.
Miss Seeton’s Finest Hour (A Prequel)
War-time England, and a young Miss Emily Seeton’s suspicious sketches call her loyalty into question—until she is recruited to uncover a case of sabotage.
Miss Seeton Quilts the Village
Miss Seeton lends her talents to the village scheme to create a giant quilted tapestry. But her intuitive sketches reveal a startlingly different perspective, involving murder.
About Heron Carvic and Hamilton Crane
The Miss Seeton series was created by Heron Carvic; and continued after his death first by Peter Martin writing as Hampton Charles, and later by Sarah J. Mason under the pseudonym Hamilton Crane.
Heron Carvic was an actor and writer, most recognisable today for his voice portrayal of the character Gandalf in the first BBC Radio broadcast version of The Hobbit, and appearances in several television productions, including early series of The Avengers and Dr Who.
Born Geoffrey Richard William Harris in 1913, he held several early jobs including as an interior designer and florist, before developing a successful dramatic career and his public persona of Heron Carvic. He only started writing the Miss Seeton novels in the 1960s, after using her in a short story.
Heron Carvic died in a car accident in Kent in 1980.
Hamilton Crane is the pseudonym used by Sarah J. Mason when writing 13 sequels and one prequel to the Miss Seeton series. She has also written detective fiction under her own name, but should not be confused with the Sarah Mason (no middle initial) who writes a rather different kind of book.
After half a century in Her
tfordshire (if we ignore four years in Scotland and one in New Zealand), Sarah J. Mason now lives in Somerset—within easy reach of the beautiful city of Wells, and just far enough from Glastonbury to avoid the annual traffic jams.
First published in 2017 by Farrago, an imprint of Prelude Books Ltd
13 Carrington Road, Richmond, TW10 5AA, United Kingdom
www.farragobooks.com
By arrangement with the Beneficiaries of the Literary Estate of Heron Carvic
Copyright © Sarah J. Mason 2017
The right of Sarah J. Mason to be identified as the author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-911440-73-4
Version 1.0
Cover design by Patrick Knowles
Miss Seeton Quilts the Village Page 26
