Daggers at the Country Fair

Catherine Coles

Description

The next instalment in the Martha Miller Mysteries from bestselling author Catherine Coles!

Winteringham Village 1947

As a thank you for her previous brilliant crime solving, amateur sleuth, Martha Miller is guest of honour at the Winteringham Country Fair. However, this time she is looking forward to simply judging dog shows and eating cream teas rather than apprehending a killer!

And Martha is just beginning to enjoy spending quality time with Vicar Luke Walker away from the prying eyes and gossips of her own village, when disaster strikes, and the local teenage femme fatale is found stabbed to death behind the tea tent by Martha’s trusted red setter Lizzie!

But who would want to kill such a young girl and why? Someone in the village has secrets to hide and it seems Martha and Luke have another case to solve!

Let the investigation commence!

Find out if Martha and Luke can catch the killer in a brand new Martha Miller mystery from bestselling author Catherine Coles.

What readers are saying about Martha Miller!

'An utterly charming 1940’s mystery. Definitely a new series addiction!' Bestselling author Debbie Young.

"Poison at the Village Show" is pure mystery buff entertainment and has all the qualities expected of an English mystery.' James Cox, Editor-in-Chief, Midwest Book Review

Perfect for fans of Lee Strauss and Beth Byers!

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Policier
• Mashups
• Women Sleuths
• Private Investigators
• Culinary
• Amateur Sleuth
• Traditional
• Feminist
• Humorous
• Thrillers
• Historical
• Women
• Coming of Age
• Adventure (Guyana)
• Suspenso
• Cozy
• Culinary art
• General officer
• Historical fiction
• Woman
• Feminism
• The Women
• Animals
• General
• Adventure
• Crime
• Family Life
• Suspense
• Thriller
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 26 septembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781804150733
• Langue: English

Extrait

DAGGERS AT THE COUNTRY FAIR
MARTHA MILLER COSY MYSTERIES – BOOK 2


CATHERINE COLES
For my Auntie Jan who was always so good at sniffing out secrets while successfully keeping her own close to her chest!
CONTENTS



Character List


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15


More from Catherine Coles

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by Catherine Coles

Poison & Pens

About Boldwood Books
CHARACTER LIST



Martha Miller- Protagonist
Ruby Andrews-Martha’s sister
Luke Walker-Westleham’s vicar
Ben Robertson-Police detective inspector
Ada Garrett- Village gossip
Maud Burnett-Martha’s neighbour, loves to repeat gossip
Freddie Butler-Luke’s friend and vicar of Winteringham
Doris Butler-His wife
Janet Butler- Freddie and Doris’s baby
Helen Kennedy-Doris’s niece
Edith Davies- The Butlers’ housekeeper
Annie Raynor-Chairwoman of the country fair
Robert Williams-Owner of the local pub: the Railway Inn
Winifred Williams-His wife
Doctor Harold Reynolds-Village doctor
Vera Reynolds- His wife and the doctor’s receptionist
Kenneth Chapman-Butcher’s assistant and Helen’s love interest
Arthur Simpson-The butcher
Betty Percival-Helen’s mother
Constable Charlie Peterson-Winteringham village policeman
1
BERKSHIRE – SEPTEMBER 1947

The bus trundled along the village lanes towards its destination. I didn’t look at my friend, Luke Walker, when I spoke. Instead I stared off across newly harvested fields. ‘Tell me about your friend, Freddie.’
‘You will like him, Mrs Miller. He loves a joke. He had me in stitches constantly during our training.’
In private, Luke called me by my Christian name, Martha. However, in public places, he was careful to maintain propriety. After all, he was the vicar of our village, and we usually adhered to correctness. Especially after the bishop’s visit earlier that summer.
‘He sounds a jolly fellow.’ I glanced at Luke’s handsome profile. ‘I wonder, does the bishop visit him to give admonishments, like he does to you?’
Luke grinned. ‘No need. Freddie is happily married with a child, so is not seen as a menace to the single women of his village.’
We referred to an incident earlier this year when the bishop visited our village of Westleham to warn both Luke and me about our relationship. Someone in our village had reported that we seemed closer than was acceptable given his vocation and the fact I am still a married woman, although with no idea where my husband is.
‘Oh, how lovely. How old is his child?’
Luke shrugged carelessly. ‘I should know. What a terrible friend I am. I’m afraid all I can recall from his letters is the child is named Janet, has teeth, but is not yet walking.’
‘So somewhere between three and eighteen months?’ I pasted a smile on my face. ‘How delightful.’
Even though I was staring out of the window, I could feel Luke’s eyes on me. I found it difficult to talk about children and, as a result, sounded as though I wasn’t fond of them. My husband, Stan, and I hadn’t been blessed with children before the war. Afterwards, he had barely been home long enough to even look at me the right way before he had gone to work one morning and never returned.
‘Are we nearly there, vicar?’ Maud Burnett called from her seat behind us.
Luke’s eyes crinkled as he turned to smile at Maud, who lived in the cottage next door to mine. ‘That is the third time you have asked me that since we left Westleham, Mrs Burnett, and I’m not even driving the bus!’
‘You can read the road signs better than me,’ she replied. ‘My old eyes aren’t what they used to be.’
‘Well, that is blatantly untrue,’ Ruby retorted in a low voice. ‘That woman doesn’t miss a thing.’
‘Shh, don’t be impolite.’ I looked across the aisle at my sister, who sat with my dog, Lizzie, on the seat next to her. I always felt obliged to correct her behaviour, though I wasn’t really sure why as it did no good.
Ruby was the complete opposite of me in both looks and temperament. She was blonde, wore make-up, worked at a factory, and tended to say exactly what she thought at the very moment she thought it.
I, on the other hand, referred to myself optimistically as strawberry blonde, didn’t have time for make-up, worked only in my cottage garden, and spent most days talking to my dog, who was my best friend. I mentally corrected myself. That wasn’t completely true any more. Over the last few months, I had worked hard on my personal relationships and, as a result, did now have some human friends, too.
I thought back to the awful event at our village show two months earlier that had surprisingly led to me spending more time with the people in Westleham. The chairwoman of the village show committee, Alice Warren, collapsed as she was about to begin the judging. It transpired she had been poisoned and because the last thing she imbibed was my home-made plum gin I was keen to clear my name and the reputation of my gin.
The vicar and I had formed an unlikely sleuthing team and, during our investigations, I slowly made friends with my neighbours. For too long, I had held myself apart from the village because a few people had spread rumours that my missing husband could likely be found underneath my potato patch. For all I knew, there were villagers that still believed that ridiculous scenario, but I was learning to focus on the people who thought that was nonsense and were happy to be my friend.
‘Two miles to go.’ Luke pointed out of the window at a road sign. ‘We shall soon be there, Mrs Burnett.’
‘It still seems strange to be able to read the signs,’ I said. Although we did not live near the coast, our local council had covered all local road signs just in case the Germans invaded and, for a reason known only to themselves, attacked rural Berkshire.
‘Bert has driven this bus since before you were born,’ Maud said. ‘He doesn’t need a signpost to tell him the way to Winteringham.’
‘Are you nervous, Martha?’ Ruby asked.
‘Not nervous,’ I replied. ‘But a little perplexed. I still don’t understand why I’ve been asked to open the country fair.’
Usually, the local gentry were asked to open village events. I was just a housewife from a small village. Who was I to open an event half of the county would travel to attend?
‘You’re practically famous!’ Ruby said enthusiastically. ‘Isn’t that right, vicar?’
Luke looked at me in a way I found disconcerting. It was a strange sort of mix between the way a parent looks fondly at a child, and a sad resignation. I wasn’t nearly brave enough to ask him why he looked at me that way – that would be a conversation that would not only stray towards inappropriate, but the answer was likely to be one I didn’t want to hear.
‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s quite right, Ruby. Your sister was an absolute hero, catching the villain who killed poor Mrs Warren.’
‘Well—’
‘Stop!’ Ruby held up a hand. ‘Remember what we talked about, Martha? When you are paid a compliment, you should accept the kind words, and not dismiss them. You are a bright, clever, and beautiful woman, and it’s entirely understandable that people may wish to point out any one of those things.’
I looked away, embarrassment staining my cheeks. ‘Oh, Ruby, you are more than a little biased.’
My sister tried to teach me all sorts of things that she seemed to find perfectly natural – putting on make-up, dressing fashionably on a budget, and particularly having a healthy dose of self-worth.
‘Tosh!’ Maud turned around from the seat behind me. ‘If you hadn’t laid that trap, I shudder to think what that fiend would have done next.’
It was my idea to lay the set-up that allowed the police to apprehend the murderer, but I had had help from several of my new friends in learning who that person was. In my mind, we all deserved equal credit.
Still, it didn’t matter what I thought. It was me, not anyone else, who would open the country fair in the morning. I could only hope the event went a little more smoothly than our own village show.



* * *
A few minutes later, the bus arrived in the middle of Winteringham. The village green, which was opposite the pub, the Railway Inn, was full of people preparing for the eagerly anticipated event that would start at eleven the next morning.
One person broke away from the crowd and strode purposefully over. As soon as we exited the bus, the tall woman began calling out. ‘Mrs Miller? I’m looking for Mrs Miller. Mrs Martha Miller.’
As if there was going to be more than one Mrs Miller on the small bus that had wound its way through the Berkshire countryside along narrow country lanes connecting the villages. Ruby took Lizzie’s lead out of my hands and nudged me forward. ‘Your public awaits you.’
‘That’s me,’ I mumbled, hoping she hadn’t heard Ruby’s words.
‘I’m Annie Raynor.’ She grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously.
‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Raynor.’
‘Miss,’ she replied. ‘On account of the fact I am taller than most men.’
She didn’t state the obvious. After the war, there weren’t enough men to go around the single women – tall, short, or in between. Annie looked to be around my age, and I decided immediately that I liked her.
‘This is my sister, Ruby.’ I turned around and gestured towards my sister, who raised a hand in greeting. ‘Our vicar, Mr Luke Walker…’
‘You simply must go straight to the vicarage, Mr Walker.’ Annie pointed across the village green. ‘I believe you are acquainted with our vicar. Well, he’s waiting for you. He was most insistent that you were directed over to his home as soon as you arrived. Now the vicarage is to the left of the village green. Rather an odd set-up, I know, as the building isn’t next to the church. Jolly useful for making tea and sandwiches for the intervals in the cricket though. Not that most villages around here can field a cricket team. Ca