Murder Makes an Entree: A Victorian Whodunit
Amy Myers
Language: English
Pages: 279
ISBN: 0312143761
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
When chef Didier becomes the chief suspect in the murder of Sir Throgmorton after he suddenly dies during a banquet, Inspector Egbert Rose of Scotland Yard enters the case and prepares a search to find the real culprit, solve the crime, and clear the chef's good name.
Bad Luck and Trouble (Jack Reacher, Book 11)
Rolling Thunder (John Ceepak. Book 6)
Drowned Hopes (Dortmunder, Book 7)
Made to Kill (The L.A. Trilogy, Book 1)
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beforehand,’ Auguste assured him. ‘How can one take a group of people, like yourselves for instance, and say you are a murderer or might be a murderer? There is no proof, and can never be any. And without proof one cannot know. Just as without cooking and tasting you cannot know that the recipe works.’ Emily gave a little scream. ‘Like us, Mr Didier? You think we are murderers?’ ‘Non, non,’ he said hastily. ‘A group like you. Or like the Literary Lionisers. Any group of ordinary people in their
fisherman who was mentioned in Our Watering Place as mending a little ship for a boy. A gasp of wonder ran round the historians, who resolved to visit every fisherman in Broadstairs forthwith till this treasure was found. The narrator, waxing enthusiastic at this reception, contrived to relate how the fisherman took ‘Old Charley’ in his boat the Irene round the foreland to Margate the very last time he came down to Broadstairs. Another Lioniser then proposed a toast to the memory of Mr John
Broadstairs alone, for Alfred had decided to continue to Ramsgate to purchase a new boater in honour of his forthcoming engagement to Beatrice. James stuck his hands in his pockets moodily as he went back into Blue Horizons trying to think carefully about what he’d overheard that Saturday afternoon, and how he could turn it to his advantage. On his way up the stairs, however, he was once again an unwitting eavesdropper. ‘It was a perfectly innocent meeting, I assure you.’ The unmistakable voice
the machines and saw this big chap swim out.’ He remembered the moment vividly. Those damned drawers of his were waterlogged, and he couldn’t move anywhere. ‘Anything more?’ ‘Lost sight of him. Mrs Figgis-Hewett screamed and we all turned towards the sound. Remember thinking he might have gone to help her.’ ‘Did he, Mrs Figgis-Hewett?’ ‘No,’ she said, outraged. ‘He was a man. Anyway, I didn’t need help, as I told the young person who seized hold of me.’ ‘Mr Pipkin, did you see anything?’
certainly not a woman that I—’ He hesitated. ‘Yes, Heinrich?’ Her grip tightened. ‘That I lof,’ he finished. ‘But I am so much older—’ ‘Oh Heinrich.’ She hardly dared breathe. ‘But if you would become Frau Freimüller, we will cook great banquets together. You with your patisserie and me with my meat pies. You like?’ ‘Oh yes, I like very much.’ ‘What should I do, Sid?’ asked Alfred Wittisham plaintively, over a third glass of hollands. Sid considered. ‘I reckon there’s a fortune to be made