Poison at penshaw hall, p.1
Poison at Penshaw Hall, page 1
Poison at Penshaw Hall
A Milverton Mystery
G B Ralph
Copyright © G B Ralph 2023
This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without permission of the publisher. The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
ISBN 978-1-99-118293-7 (Paperback POD)
ISBN 978-1-99-118295-1 (Ebook EPUB)
A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.
G B Ralph
www.gbralph.com
Addison Harper is back…
Addison Harper is back, and with another dead body at his feet. Only this time, the entire town saw it happen.
Milverton is in the running for the Terrific Town Award, so a dramatic death at the opening ceremony is far from ideal. Addison had only been lending a hand, but now finds himself much more involved than he’d ever hoped. To think his biggest worry before had been his upcoming date with Sergeant Jake Murphy.
As for the sergeant, he can hardly ignore a hall full of witnesses even if he wanted to. And they’re all pointing the finger at his date, Milverton’s newest arrival, Addison Harper.
Poison at Penshaw Hall is the latest in a wonderful cosy mystery series set in an enchanting small town nestled amongst stunning New Zealand scenery. Investigate The Milverton Mysteries for a chaotic cast of local busybodies, delicious baked treats, a demanding and disdainful ginger cat, a very slow-burn romance with a rather appealing policeman, and of course… murder!
For Gran and Grandad, because red cars really do go faster.
Chapter 1
Addison had hoped the fresh air and brisk walk into town would be enough to clear his head, but no such luck.
This was a job for proper coffee. Within minutes, Addison was only a few blocks from his destination, and that’s when he noticed something had shifted. The gentle trill of birdsong and the occasional rumble of a passing car had served as a pleasant and unobtrusive soundtrack to his Saturday morning stroll. Now it had shifted into a low, muffled roar that grew louder and more chaotic with every step.
Addison was puzzling this over as he closed in on Milverton Square, and still had no clue what to expect until the moment he arrived.
People shouted as they unloaded trucks and trailers. Cars honked as they manoeuvred amongst the chaos. The occasional duck frantically waddled out of the way of pedestrians and vehicles alike.
A lawnmowing crew were doing laps around the grassed area in the rose garden, though thankfully a light breeze was blowing in the other direction, away from Addison’s approach. Still, the sound carried. Their constant whining drone was punctuated by the hammering of scaffolding as a low, open stage was erected on the square’s lawn, the bangs reverberating around the streets and buildings surrounding the square.
The whirlwind of activity extended across the street and up into Milverton Town Hall with more cars and trucks parked haphazardly across the footpaths, and people carrying boxes, pushing trolleys, or just dodging everyone and everything else.
Amongst the mayhem, one altercation still managed to stand out. Addison couldn’t be sure if it was the woman’s dusty pink pantsuit or her sparring partner’s tight, bright purple curls that had caught his eye. But he was in no doubt that the pair had caught his ear. Even over all the noise, he caught snatches of their argument that involved dire predictions of failure, accusations of fault, and threats of ruin. It was all a bit much for Addison at this hour and in his present state. He made a note to himself to steer clear.
Lurking over the entire scene was a blanket of uncomfortably dark grey clouds, the air energised with the promise of weather to come – weather with a capital W. The atmosphere was so thick he could almost taste it. That didn’t appear to have dampened anyone’s enthusiasm or distracted them from their efforts. All of this seemed to be going full steam ahead.
Whatever this was.
With nothing else for it, Addison took a deep breath and dove in, hoping to traverse the carnage and reach the cafe without being trampled under the masses of Milvertonians. He may not have known what was going on, but he did know he’d kill for a coffee.
***
The bell tinkled overhead as Addison stepped into Lynne’s Cafe. The cheery tune remained the same, but each time it communicated something different depending on his mood. Today, for example, it seemed louder than usual, and more sarcastic. If it could speak, it might be saying something like, ‘Well, well, well. Look who we have here. Big night, was it? All right, get your sorry self in here.’
Addison might not have been happy about such an assessment, but he could hardly disagree. Not after he’d caught sight of himself in the cafe window. It didn’t help that the haircut he’d been meaning to get since before he left Wellington was now even more overdue. At least he didn’t have to contend with the capital’s notorious winds, so his wavy, loose curls weren’t obstructing his view or pricking him in the eyes every other second.
He was here because he needed coffee. And so, apparently, did everybody else.
Lynne’s Cafe was a popular spot, but with a queue at the counter and most tables already occupied, Addison had never seen the place so busy. The chatter of customers, the clink of cutlery and crockery, and the hissing and banging of the coffee machine had quashed any lingering hope of a little quiet to ease him into the day.
‘Here he is,’ a loud and enthusiastic voice said the moment Addison reached the front of the queue. Lynne stood before him, beaming. ‘Milverton’s very own master detective.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’
‘I beg to disagree, love,’ she said, arms crossed and a reproachful smile on her lips.
‘I just got a bit caught up in it all.’
‘I was telling our Sergeant Murphy not half an hour ago that he’d better watch out, or he’ll have you pinching his job.’
The casual mention of Jake gave Addison a little jolt. ‘He’s been in this morning, has he?’
‘Of course,’ Lynne said, nodding with obvious pride. ‘You’re not my only regular, Mr Harper, thank goodness.’
He wanted to ask more, but couldn’t think how to do so without piquing Lynne’s interest. She already knew far too much about what was going on around town without knowing any more of Addison’s business too. Not that he had any right to be claiming Sergeant Jake Murphy as his business, which he may or may not be. Addison was still considering such nebulous romantic notions, vacant expression plastered all over his face, when Lynne cut into his thoughts.
‘Now, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, love, but…’ Lynne trailed off as she held her hands together over her front, and her wide, open smile drew into a frown.
‘But what?’
‘Well, I know things in Milverton have been rather hectic since you arrived, for you in particular.’ Lynne leant forward and lowered her voice so only Addison could hear. ‘Even so, you’re not looking your best, if I’m being honest.’
Addison couldn’t help wincing.
Harsh, but true.
If anyone else had suggested as much, he’d have been peeved. Coming from Lynne, he knew it came from a good place, so he reckoned it was fair. He shrugged. ‘I’m OK, it was self-inflicted.’
Lynne’s smile immediately bounced back into position. ‘Well, that’s OK then,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘If anyone deserved a celebratory beverage last night, it was you.’
‘Thanks, Lynne.’
‘But this morning, it looks like you could do with a coffee.’ Lynne held up a hand, forestalling any comment. ‘Don’t you worry yourself, I added your order to the list the moment you stepped through the door. I’ve already got Emma onto it, presuming you haven’t changed your order since yesterday or every other day before that?’
‘No, no.’
‘And what will you have from the cabinet?’
Everything in Lynne’s cabinet was to die for, but it was at that moment as the doorbell tinkled announcing yet more arrivals that Addison became conscious all over again of the growing queue behind him. ‘No, just the coffee, thanks.’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You certainly look like you could do with a little something.’
Lynne had her hands on her hips now. Addison couldn’t decide if it was a battle stance, challenging him to defy her. Or just an indication that she’d be content to wait until he’d made his selection. Either way, she was in no apparent rush, and regardless, Addison found himself distracted by her newly revealed apron anyway. He hadn’t seen this one, hadn’t yet seen the same one twice, in fact. He was starting to suspect she had an endless supply. This one featured an illustrated chocolate chip cookie, followed by the words, ‘Be nice to me or I’ll use raisins instead.’
Addison couldn’t help smiling as he considered the treat-themed threat. Inspired, he asked Lynne if she had any chocolate chip cookies on offer, as per her apron du jour.
‘I sure do.’
‘I’ll have one of those then, thanks,’ Addison said, disproportionately pleased with his swift decision making.
‘Right you are.’ Lynne reached into the cabinet with her tongs and pulled out something that looked to be at least the size of his hand – fingers outstretched, no less. And upon closer inspection, Addison was relieved to find Lynne had not pranked her customers by substituting in raisins after all. But neither were they mere chocolate c
‘Mum, here’s the oat flat white,’ Emma said as she set down a cup and saucer on the counter, cutting into Addison’s favourable appraisal. ‘Oh, hi, Addison – this must be yours.’
‘Thanks, Emma.’
‘No worries.’ She gave him an appreciative nod before ducking back behind the coffee machine.
‘Seeing as that’s everything, and you’re right there,’ Lynne said, sliding his coffee and cookie across the counter, ‘you can make yourself useful and take these with you.’
‘Of course,’ Addison said, reaching to pick up his order.
‘We’re so busy, and it’s still so early. It’s all going on today,’ Lynne said, still absently holding onto the saucer and plate. ‘Unfortunately, consistent table service has been the day’s first victim.’
Addison winced at the word choice. ‘And let’s hope it’s the only victim.’
Lynne’s eyes flashed wide as she rather belatedly registered what she’d said. ‘Oh, yes. Indeed, indeed. It’s all for the good though. We’re just rushed off our feet, we are,’ she said, though her feet remained unmoved, and she seemed, as ever, impervious to rushing or being rushed.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Addison said, reaching again to accept his order. ‘I’d better let—’
‘It’s just so great to see everyone out and about.’
Lynne spoke as if everyone – Addison included – should know very well why that was the case. He remained at sea, but dared not ask for fear of extending the conversation further. ‘Thanks again, Lynne. I don’t want to hold up—’
‘A nice bit of festivity after all the drama lately.’
‘Mum,’ Emma said, popping her head out, her voice short and sharp. ‘Addison’s trying to escape, and we’ve got a queue that is now, quite literally, out the door.’
‘Oh, quite right. Addison, you look after yourself, love.’
‘I will, and thanks again,’ Addison said, nodding his gratitude to Emma as she returned to frothing milk and Lynne finally relinquished his coffee and cookie.
‘Nice shirt, by the way,’ Lynne said, eyes alight. ‘It’s electrifying.’
Addison gave her a faint smile, groaning inwardly as he glanced down at himself. His usual attire tended towards plain and tidy, inconspicuous, not eye-catching, remarkable, or particularly fashion-forward. ‘I ran out of shirts,’ he said. ‘Had to raid my uncle’s spare bedroom wardrobe.’ Its contents had been dominated by the bright colours and geometric patterns of the eighties. Addison had settled on the least alarming of the shirts: navy blue, with intersecting squares, rectangles and lightning bolts of red, yellow, and white. He was surprised to find it passed the sniff test too – no hint of mustiness or mothballs – and decided it would have to do.
‘It’s a look, all right. A real blast from the past.’ Lynne stood, finger tapping her lip as she considered him. ‘You’re pulling it off, though, I think.’
Addison had his doubts but thanked her for saying so before moving off.
He scored himself a recently vacated table by the window and settled in, reflecting on his dire wardrobe situation. Addison hadn’t planned on being in Milverton for quite so long. His inheritance was as sizable as it was unexpected, and so far it had not been straightforward. He didn’t anticipate any further interruptions or complications though.
So, Addison’s latest plan was to take it easy over the weekend, then early next week he hoped to make contact with his great-uncle’s property manager to sort things out. With that done, he ought to be free to head back home to Wellington, back to business as usual. After the week he’d had, he didn’t think it was too much to ask, was it?
Chapter 2
In the short time Addison had been at the cafe, it had settled into a pleasant hubbub instead of the former ruckus. Or his perception of the place shifted after his first few sips of coffee had done their magic.
Feeling somewhat more invigorated and willing to face the day with grace, Addison bit into his oversized cookie. The crumbly, chocolate-laden treat sent him immediately into a state of utter bliss, and in seconds he’d devoured the lot.
As with everything from Lynne’s cabinet, the cookie was delicious and he regretted not taking the time to savour it. Still, he remained grateful he hadn’t choked on it and so made a fool of himself, as he’d been known to do. A smattering of crumbs was the only evidence of his hasty inhalation. It was as he swept up this debris with a paper napkin that two newcomers plonked themselves down in the seats opposite him.
The first was an unfamiliar child of six or seven or eight – Addison really had no idea. And the second was a rosy-cheeked septuagenarian sporting a grey-white bob, and clad in activewear with a cardigan over the top.
‘Good morning, Mrs Zhou.’ Addison smiled at his friend’s arrival. ‘And who’s this—’
‘Don’t you give me that Mrs Zhou nonsense,’ Mabel said, flapping a dismissive hand at him. ‘And what do you call this, hm?’ Eyebrow cocked, she gestured between them.
‘What do I call what?’
‘Firstly, that shirt you’re wearing.’
Addison groaned, pulling his jacket together despite it already being plenty warm enough in the cafe.
‘It’s just so…’ The woman looked thoughtful as she searched for the right word. ‘It’s just so zazzy.’
‘Yes, yes. OK,’ Addison said. ‘Anyway, you said “firstly” which implies there’s a “secondly”?’
‘Oh yes. Secondly, where were you this morning?’
‘What? Where was I supposed to—’
‘The Riverside Runners.’
Addison winced.
‘Our lovely riverside path isn’t going to walk itself. Even Sophia here joined her old nana. You know the deal, rain or shine. Today may not be shine, but it’s also not rain either. Not yet anyway, so no excuses there.’
He hadn’t committed to joining, but he hadn’t exactly not committed either. ‘I completely forgot, sorry, slept right through.’
Mabel frowned, a look of genuine concern. ‘That’s not like you, dear.’
‘I joined the investigating team at Langston’s last night. A bit of a debrief at the pub after everything that happened with the Norman case.’ He hadn’t realised how much the death and subsequent investigation had weighed on him, but after the debrief, a good rest, and his first sips of coffee on this brand new day, Addison was feeling relatively refreshed.
Mabel sighed, shook her head and tutted, then sighed again. ‘Well, that’s all right, then. Though, I must say you deserved that drink more than those police officers did.’
‘I wouldn’t say that.’
Mabel blew a raspberry.
‘They may have started the investigation a bit off target—’
‘A bit off target?’ Mabel gave him a look that asked who he thought he was kidding.
Addison held up his hand in what he hoped was a placating kind of gesture. ‘To be fair to them, they didn’t muck around once they saw what was going on. And they wouldn’t have got to that point without you, either. Don’t forget that.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ Mabel said, batting him on the back of the hand but unable to mask the pride in her smile. ‘But yes, after all the drama of the past week, you probably deserved a sleep in.’
‘How generous of you to say so.’
She nodded once, as if the matter was satisfactorily resolved.
‘Here you are, Mabel,’ Emma said as she arrived at their table, setting down a pot of tea, teacup, and saucer.
‘Thank you, dear.’
‘And the hot chocolate with extra marshmallows must be for you, Sophia, is that right?’
She’d been so quiet and still, Addison had almost forgotten they had a child at their table.
‘Sophia?’ Mabel prompted, gentle yet firm.
The girl at Mabel’s side inclined her head ever so slightly, and let out a faint, ‘Thank you,’ as Emma set down the mug in front of her.
