The Moonlit Murders: A historical mystery page-turner (A Fen Churche Mystery Book 3) Fliss Chester (most read book in the world txt) đ
- Author: Fliss Chester
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âHe remembered killing her a few hours ago, whatever he says now,â Lagrande told her. âI have a signed confession.â The captain pulled one of the papers on his desk out and briefly showed it to Fen, who could only make out that it was a typed-up sheet on the shipâs headed paper with a near-impossible-to-make-out scrawl at the bottom.
âA confession?â Fen racked her brains. Spencer hadnât tried to deny Genieâs murder, but he definitely hadnât seemed like someone who had recently confessed to one. âDid he say why?â
Lagrande glanced over at the signed document in front of him. âQuerelle dâamoureux, you know, the quarrel of the lovers. Stockings tightened around her throat too much before he realisedâŠâ The captain looked up at her. âNow, Miss Churche, Iâm afraid I am a busy man and I do appreciate your help with these murders, but this one is already solved and I donât imagine thereâs much appetite among my passengers or crew to see anyone punished for killing a German. You find those jewels, thatâs the real case here. Mrs Archer could become a redoubtable foe for all of us if we donât find her precious tiara. You have my full permission to search where you need to now.â
Fen took her cue to leave and pushed herself up from the chair. âGood day, Captain, and thank you for the offer of free passage home.â
She left the captain shuffling papers, as if by doing so the ship would magically steer itself, and was accompanied by Dodman off the bridge.
âSounds like weâll have the pleasure of your company, miss, on the way home. Thatâs a fair prospect, if you ask me.â
âThank you, Dodman.â Fen smiled more warmly for the steward. âLetâs hope the journey home is slightly less eventful.â
And a lot less murderous⊠she thought.
32
âFree passage home? For both of us?â James asked over lunch in the dining room. By Fenâs watch, which was now set to some compromise between Greenwich Mean Time and New Yorkâs time zone, it was well past lunchtime and her stomach had started to grumble to make sure she knew it.
So she had been mightily pleased to find James lurking near her cabin when she returned from seeing the captain, especially when he suggested a slap-up fish-and-chip meal in the second-class canteen. It was less fancy that the dining room theyâd been using, but that rarefied atmosphere wasnât what was needed right now, and Fen appreciated the background noise of plates and cutlery being cleared and clanked around them as they spoke.
âYes, thatâs if you want to come home. I know youâre not quite ready yet, but I donât think I can keep Kitty waiting much longer, let alone my poor parents.â
âDemons should be faced, I suppose,â James said, before putting a large piece of battered cod into his mouth.
âDemons?â Fen asked.
âWell, not demons so much as memories,â James admitted.
Fen didnât know if now was the time to push for more details. Heâd said heâd tell her more about his family when heâd encouraged her to stay on board and travel to New York as Eloiseâs guest. For him to mention âdemonsâ though⊠James interrupted her thoughts with a question of his own.
âI never asked how you found out about my parents and Oliver. Was it Arthur?â
James knew, of course, that Arthur had written several letters to Fen, and often in their own crossword-style code, but Fen shook her head. As easy as it would be to let him think that, she didnât want to lie to him. There was enough of that going on on this ship already.
âKitty. Well, Dil really. They took it upon themselves to âvetâ you, if thatâs the right way to describe itââ
âIf youâre feeling charitable,â he interrupted grumpily, before forking a piece of battered fish into his mouth.
âIâm afraid itâs a downside to your elevated status, James. These things become matters of public record.â
James snorted and carried on eating.
âIâm sorry you lost a fiancĂ©e too.â Fen remembered the letter Kitty had written. Jamesâs fiancĂ©e had been killed in the same bomb blast as his parents. James merely nodded and speared a chip with his fork. Fen pushed her mushy peas around her plate, hating the silence between them. Perhaps she shouldnât have brought it all up again and feared saying anything else unless it really did step over the line. She remembered what heâd said to her though, and after a few more mouthfuls, added, âItâs all right to be sad, you know. About the war, and your family. We need to find memories to cherish, rather than those of which weâre afraid.â
James looked at her for a moment, and then nodded. âYouâre right, of course, it is those memories I have to come to terms with. And the responsibilities. Somehow it feels easier to run from them. I never wanted the house or title, and never expected them, either. That was all to be Oliverâs, and I was more than happy with my lot. A career in diplomacy and then something more spicy when the war came. Boyâs Own annual stuff. Maybe a living later on as part of the estate, I donât know.â
âWhat about Lady Arabella?â
âOliverâs too.â
âExcuse me?â Fen was confused. She was sure Kitty had written to say that James had lost a brother and a fiancĂ©e, not a brother and his fiancĂ©e.
âBella was Oliverâs intended before he died. Then I inherited her. A bit like Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon.â James said this all so matter-of-factly that Fen was at a loss to find the words to challenge him on it. But the fact that heâd inherited a fiancĂ©e⊠well that was a bit Tudor, to say the least.
âI have to say, James, Iâm a bit shocked,â Fen finally managed. âDid you love her? Did she love you? Was it arranged? Oh gosh,â the thought suddenly came to her. âYouâre like Eloise and Reginald Vandervinter. All these arranged marriages, itâs a mite
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