LORD JAMES HARRINGTON AND THE WINTER MYSTERY (Lord James Harrington Mysteries Book 1)

by Lynn Florkiewicz

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ James said unconvincingly. He poked his head into the alcove and realised Ian wasn’t the only one there. A young, blonde woman stood a couple of feet away and, on seeing James, her pretty face broke into a smile as she held out her hand. She spoke with a soft, Scottish lilt.

  ‘Good afternoon, Lord Harrington,’ she said. ‘I’m Ian’s secretary, Diana.’

  ‘What-ho, Diana.’ He looked at Ian. ‘I must admit, I was expecting more of an office. You know, not a glass-fronted shop-type thing. Is all of this yours?’

  Ian shook his head. ‘I wish. No, it belongs to a Miss Sutherland. It’s a family firm and I managed to get dibs on this space here.’

  ‘Well, good for you. Business booming?’

  Diana acknowledged that it was and went to steer him out of the alcove. He accepted his glass from Ian and returned to the main office.

  Ian’s secretary, he observed, clearly kept herself fit - with a glowing complexion, clear blue eyes and long, ash blonde hair pinned up off her shoulders. She wore a royal blue pencil skirt with a sky blue cardigan. He wondered if she’d ever been a model. She certainly had the legs for it; long legs, with slender feet that slipped into black stiletto shoes. Ian’s landed on his feet there, he thought.

  ‘Tell me, Diana,’ he said, ’you’re not from around here. I detect an Inverness dialect about you.’

  Her eyes opened wide in surprise. ‘You know your accents, Lord Harrington.’ She sat on the corner of Ian’s desk and crossed her legs. ‘My family are landowners in Scotland, just outside of Oban. I’m an independent girl, Lord Harrington, and wanted to come to the city and be a secretary. I did some typing work at the BBC for a couple of years, but the countryside beckoned. So, I managed to get a job here in the agency, but I also help Ian out.’ She smiled knowingly. ‘I particularly love property. Valuing and auctioning means I get to see houses and that means looking at things I love.’

  ‘Ah, yes, and women love to see what other people do with their homes, don’t they?’ replied James. ‘My wife is exactly the same.’

  Diana smiled. ‘Exactly, and women tend to get what they want.’

  James raised his glass to her, thinking that she could probably get the Crown Jewels if she asked nicely.

  Ian sat down at his desk. ‘Diana and I met about five years ago. I’d finished learning my trade and wanted somewhere to work from. She was already here and negotiated rent on a desk. Been here ever since.’ He smiled and winked at Diana. ‘She does all my paperwork and accounts, a few letters and a bit of filing.’ He ran a finger down her back and James knew, then, that Diana was more than a secretary. He took a deep breath.

  ‘Ian,’ James said, ‘is this a convenient time?’

  Ian sat up and Diana reached for her coat and bag.

  ‘Don’t you boys mind me,’ she said. ‘I have customers to see. Nice meeting you, Lord Harrington.’

  James rose from his chair, feeling obliged to kiss her on the hand. ‘And you. Why don’t you get Ian to bring you along to our Bonfire Night?’

  She raised her eyebrows and gave him a smouldering look, then assured James that she would do her best to come along. She slipped on her jacket and James watched her walk away, mesmerised by the swaying of her hips.

  ‘I say, Ian, you’ve got a peach of a girl there.’

  Connell said nothing, but the smugness confirmed his observations. However, James questioned why someone like her should be a secretary. She seemed more of a career girl than a secretary.

  Ian reached down and brought up a long roll of papers. Unfolding them across his desk, James saw that these were the plans for Grimes’ farm. He perused the documents slowly, impressed by the details and precision of Ian’s plans.

  ‘I say! You certainly know your stuff.’

  ‘Yeah, I like to think I do,’ said Ian. ‘I trained as an architect, then a surveyor. But, to be honest, I decided it weren’t for me. I like to get my hands dirty, so I turned into a jack of all trades. Brickie, plumber, carpenter - the works.’ He tapped the plans. ‘This is a bit of a sideline, really, if I’ve not got much work on.’

  ‘Well, you’ve certainly slotted plenty of experience in your years,’ replied James. ‘You can’t be more than thirty.’

  Ian agreed, explaining that he couldn’t really settle properly when he first left school, and that’s why it took a while to find out what he really wanted to do. James sipped his whisky.

  ‘So, where are you from originally?’

  ‘Plymouth. Dad was in the Royal Marines - got killed during the war. Mum died last year.’

  ‘Oh, gosh, I am sorry.’

  Ian shrugged and waved away his condolences. ‘It’s in the past and, to be honest, I never got on with ‘em.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Ian winced. ‘They wanted me to follow him, you know, into the Marines. The Connells have a lot of military history - all the sons are expected to join up. I did national service, but it weren’t for me. Couldn’t stand the discipline at home, so I certainly didn’t want it in the forces. Decided to do my exams and leave home. Went back for the funerals, you know, show my face, but not been back since. Moved here when I met Diana and decided to stick with her. Property’s a cash-earner and she’s something pretty special, don’t you think? Can’t go wrong, can I?’

  James understood perfectly. A nice set-up, good business, beautiful girlfriend, just what every man wants. But he did feel that Ian’s tone reflected a touch of egotism. Diana, for Ian, appeared to be something more ornamental than emotional; he hoped Ian went for personality as well as looks. But, he had to admit, Ian knew his stuff where drawing-up plans were concerned. He put his glass down.

  ‘Listen, Ian, the reason I’m here is personal. I’m impressed with the drawings you made for Grimes. I understand you did some work over at the museum - on the roof? I took a look at it as I came past and you appear to have done a good job. Anyway, I’m toying with the idea of extending our patio up at the house and, perhaps, doing something similar over at Harringtons, our country hotel. Would you be free to toddle across and take a look?’

  Ian’s eyes lit up. ‘Yeah, I’d love to. Sounds right up my street. I’d pencilled in work on the Grimes place but, as that’s fallen through, I’m more or less free for the next few days.’

  ‘Yes, shame about that,’ replied James. ‘Looks like you took quite a bit of time over those plans.’

  Ian looked at his drawings with a little irritation. He explained that it had cost him time and money that he knew he couldn’t get back. ‘Still, when the house goes to auction, I’ll put a bid in,’ he said. ‘There’s a lot of potential in a house like that - do it up into something nice and sell it on.’

  James stared at him. ‘Is the house going to auction?’

  ‘Well, I’m guessing that’s what’s gonna happen. Sutherlands have the authority to auction that property. Not quite sure why - must be something they agreed with Grimes. I mean, he hasn’t got any family, has he?’

  ‘Well, yes, he has,’ replied James. ‘He’s got a son, Keith.’

  Ian’s eyebrows knitted together. ‘What?’

  ‘I thought you knew. We were discussing it at rehearsals the other night. We’re trying to track him down for the funeral, but he’s disappeared off the face of the earth.’

  Ian raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh right. He never mentioned a son to me. I thought he was a one-man band.’

  James confirmed to Ian that he wasn’t surprised and relayed the history between father and son. ‘Not unlike your own family relationship.’

  ‘Mmm, surprising how many fathers and sons there are like that. It’s not all happy families everywhere you go, is it?’

  ‘No, you’re right there, old chap.’ James stood up. ‘Listen, I won’t take up any more of your day. Let’s arrange a time for you to come over and take a look at these respective houses and see what you think.’ He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘Blast!I haven’t brought my diary.’

/>   ‘Doesn’t matter,’ replied Ian. ‘Call me later when you get home - I’m in all day.’ They shook hands. ‘And thanks. I appreciate you thinking of me for the work - it means a lot. If I get you on my books as a client, it gives me some credence. Sorry, hope you don’t mind me saying that.’

  ‘Not at all - if you do a good job, I’m happy to recommend you.’

  James made his way through the front part of the office and felt in his pocket for his car keys. His fingers stroked a piece of glazed pottery. He swung round.

  ‘By the way,’ he said. ‘When you were up at Grimes’ place, did he show you any old pottery?’

  Ian chuckled and shook his head. ‘Pottery! No, he never showed me anything. It was all I could do to get in the house. Why?’

  James shook his head and assured him it was nothing and waved goodbye. Five minutes later, he located a telephone box and dialled Beth. She picked the receiver up almost immediately.

  ‘Darling,’ he began, ’do we have guests round for dinner tonight or anything planned?’

  ‘Not unless you’ve arranged something since you left,’ replied Beth.

  ‘Well, I’m going to swing by and ask Professor Wilkins if he’ll pop up for a drink later.’

  ‘What, that old grump from the historical society?’

  James smirked and asserted the fact that Wilkins was not old and was only an occasional grump. He heard Beth sigh.

  ‘I’ll do dinner early and make sure we’re all straight before he visits,’ she said. ‘Does six o’clock suit?’

  James confirmed that this suited very well and hung up. He walked toward the Jaguar, quietly thrilled at the thought of an al fresco area at the hotel. Although Ian and the delectable Diana made a handsome couple, they were a little too showy for James, but Ian’s talent could not be faulted.

  He checked his watch. It was just gone 3pm. He ran his tongue over his top lip wondering what to do next. He suddenly stopped in his tracks. Charlie Hawkins’ library books! Let’s track them down. With a spurt of energy, he jumped in the front seat of his car, fired up the engine and sped off in the direction of Cavendish. Twenty minutes later, he pulled onto the grass verge by Grimes’ farm.

  Unlocking the front door, he peered into the kitchen. For reasons he couldn’t understand, he expected to find the place robbed; but, of course, no disturbance had occurred. He crept in, wondering why he was being so clandestine; however, after the incident with Stephen, his imagination had leapt into overdrive.

  In the sitting room, James went straight to the shelves on the wall opposite the door, took the books down and laid them on the table. Opening the larger, hardback books, he nodded knowingly. Each one had the library reference sticker inside stating ‘This book is the property of Cavendish Reference Library and Must Not Be Removed’. Clearly, these were the missing books. There were ten in total, nine of which related to religion, witchcraft and devil worship. The tenth, however, jolted him out of his musings. He sat down and drew the book toward him.

  ‘Roman Artefacts of Sussex,’ he read out loud.

  Leafing through the pages, his gaze took in maps, drawings and photos of mosaics, villas, jewellery and pottery.

  ‘Good Lord,’ James mumbled to himself. After a few minutes of contemplation, he bundled the books together and transferred them all to his car.

  In the driver’s seat, he studied the pottery pieces again, rolling them over in his fingers and holding them up, as if some sort of magical answer would leap out at him. A thousand questions rushed through his head, leaving him no time to ponder on any. His obsession with Grimes and devil worship had suddenly been derailed. In its place, a new train of thought took up a head of steam.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  After a smooth shave and a long soak in a steaming bath, James splashed his face with Givenchy cologne. He wandered through to their light, airy bedroom that overlooked the back of the house. They’d recently decorated the room and James was pleased with the polished oak floor and the large, square patterned rugs that added contrast to the pastel interior. To break with convention, Beth insisted on the palest of green walls and dark yew wardrobes alongside deep, brass-handled drawers. James secretly had his doubts but, he had to admit, the room radiated brightly, yet remained a warm haven for slumber.

  For evening wear, James chose to dress a little more formally than normal, as the Professor always appeared in a suit and tie no matter what the occasion. He slid the hangers along the rail, wondering what would be most suitable. After some deliberation, he attired himself in charcoal flannel trousers, a white shirt, v-neck maroon sweater and a plain maroon tie.

  Smoothing his hair back, he trotted down the stairs and headed straight for the kitchen.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ he said. ‘You’re obviously thinking along the same lines as me.’

  Beth smiled as she looked down at her striking red skirt suit accessorised with diamond and pearl jewellery.

  ‘I changed three times before I got to this. I didn’t change this much when we went to the Lord Mayor’s banquet.’

  He helped store the cooking utensils.

  ‘Dinner was splendid, as normal.’

  Beth tapped the well-thumbed handwritten recipe book. ‘The way to a man’s heart,’ she said, laughing. ‘It’s no wonder your granddad didn’t stray the family home with these recipes. Your granny should have been a professional cook.’

  ‘Well, you know, she did her bit during the Great War. Managed to concoct all manner of delicious meals when she volunteered to help the wounded.’

  Beth linked arms with him as they walked through to the living room and made themselves comfortable on the sofa. Beth reached across and switched on the wireless.

  ‘You know, I was thinking - if Alec Grimes did die of a heart attack, none of this is as sinister as you think. I mean, is it worth speaking with the Professor?’

  James raised an eyebrow. ‘To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. It certainly seems like I’m chasing something that’s not there, doesn’t it? But, I had set myself a deadline of Bonfire Night before dropping the whole thing, so I may as well play the game.’

  ‘But you can’t deny science, sweetie,’ replied Beth. ‘A heart attack’s a heart attack.’

  He held a hand up in defence. ‘I’m not denying science. Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with delving in a little deeper, that’s why I’ve invited the old Prof around. And I am genuinely interested in these pottery pieces. Well, more intrigued, I suppose.’

  ‘Well, I hope he’s not here all evening. The man’s a delectable dish, but he’s abrupt to the point of rudeness.’

  James agreed that he did, indeed, come across as a little intense. ‘Perhaps he needs a good woman,’ he said, snaking an arm across Beth’s shoulders.

  ‘A good talking to, I’d say,’ she replied. ‘I hope Harry and Oliver never turn into grouches.’

  ‘That’s hardly likely,’ said James. ‘Certainly not while you’ve got life inside you.’

  They went on to discuss the day’s events. James excitedly told Beth about the little things that cropped up: Charlie’s missing library books and how he’d found them at the farm; the pottery pieces and Charlie’s advice that he should speak with Professor Wilkins. Finally, they ended up on the subject of Ian and his secretary, the desirable Diana.

  ‘I must say, she’s a stunning girl,’ added James. ‘The sort of person you see playing the glamorous secretary in the Hollywood films. You know the sort, more like Rita Hayworth, not the dowdy matron-types you normally get in real life. He rents the office space from Sutherlands. I think Diana must know them - she managed to get him a good rate, anyway. And, she’s more than a secretary, too. There’s certainly a spark between them and Ian more or less said as much. She is a beautiful woman - high cheek bones, slender legs, beautiful smile…’

  Beth playfully poked him in the ribs. ‘Hey, don’t you plan on eloping with her.’

  He laughed, shook his head and squeezed her shoulders. ‘Not my
type, darling. To be honest, I couldn’t quite make her out. Not sure why she’s a secretary. With those looks and her confidence, she could be just about anything she wanted to be.’ He took a sip of sherry. ‘Anyway, enough of her. I looked at the plans Ian did for the Grimes place. Damned good - very detailed and he knows his stuff, so I’ve asked him to pop round here and see about extending our patio.’

  ‘Oh, that’s marvellous,’ said Beth. ‘And what about the manor? Are we going ahead with a wider area there? I have to say, I think it’ll look perfect on a summer’s day.’

  ‘Yes, most definitely,’ replied James. ‘I had a chat with him earlier and he’s going to call over at the end of the week. So, enough of me - I forgot to ask, how did you and Anne get on with the costumes?’

  Beth, true to form, spoke of her day with great enthusiasm. After James and Charlie had left, she and Anne had been joined by several villagers. They’d then locked themselves in the lounge for two hours and continued sewing until they could face it no more. Between them, they finished the outfits belonging to the leading male actors and had made a start on the female leads.

  ‘Anne, I’ve discovered, is a mean seamstress,’ added Beth. ‘She taught us all a thing or two about stitching and hemming. Oh, and Stephen popped in. When the ladies went, he, Anne and I went to Elsie’s for afternoon tea. I think you’ve hooked him on that place.’

  ‘Well, I can think of worse places to go. We’ll have to take them up to the manor one evening for dinner.’

  ‘We also called into Mrs Keates to remind her about tomorrow night and arrange to collect her. Stephen’s doing the driving for that.’

  James’ eyes lit up. ‘Is she making those lovely fairy cakes?’

  ‘Oh yes, she was in the middle of baking when we went there,’ replied Beth.

  ‘Splendid. Now, while we’re talking about tomorrow, do we have everything in place?’

  ‘Well, the children have the bonfire all set up. Just need someone to put the guy at the top and it’ll be ready to go. Bert has hijacked a stack of fireworks. I’ve no idea where they’ve come from, but it’ll be a spectacular display, I’m sure of it.’