Murder in a Mayfair Flat by Jenna Bennett EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Jenna Bennett
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Mysteries
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
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IT WAS JUST after ten o’clock when Evans rang up from the lobby and
ruined what was left of my evening.
“Miss Darling? Lord St George to see Mr. Astley.”
“Christopher’s out,” I said, since my flat-mate and cousin had dressed
up as his alter ego Kitty Dupree and gone off to his monthly engagement—
a drag ball—an hour ago.
After the police raid the last weekend of April—a raid Christopher had
escaped by the skin of his teeth, and only because someone who knew it
was going to happen had yanked him out of there just in time—the arranger
had taken new precautions, and the event had moved from the last Friday of
the month to the first Saturday of the next, and so here we were, on
Saturday the 5th of June.
As soon as the date registered, I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, Evans.
He’s sozzled?”
“Absolutely potted,” Evans confirmed. “I don’t know if it’s safe to
allow him to go off on his own, Miss Darling.”
No, it definitely wasn’t. The Honorable Crispin Astley, Viscount St
George, Christopher’s other cousin (on the spear side) and heir to the
Sutherland dukedom, had recently—as in within the past year—managed to
wrap his previous automobile, a Ballot 2 LTS racing car, around a light pole
in the West End. He had walked away from that mishap with no worse
injury than a bump on the head, but the Ballot had been a complete loss.
Now he was driving a Hispano-Suiza H6, with the same engine that Barnato
had used for the speeding record at Brooklands in 1924, and I dreaded to
think what trouble he could get up to with it in his current condition.
“Better send him up,” I told Evans. Against my better judgment, I might
add. I’m slightly more fond of Crispin than I used to be—he had rescued
me from a rather handsy gentleman at a weekend party last month, so now I
had to be grateful—but he was still not my favorite person in the world
(that honor would go to Christopher).
In his current state, he would
undoubtedly prove to be even more of a nuisance than usual.
However, needs must and all that. If I let him leave and he actually died,
I’d be sorry. “I’ll meet the lift,” I added.
“Very well, Miss Darling.”
Evans disconnected. I unlocked the front door to the flat—Christopher
and I share a service flat in the Essex House Mansions in London—and
proceeded down the hallway towards the lift. I could hear the gears engage,
but not until I was standing in front of it. It must have taken Evans all that
time to maneuver St George into the box and push the button for our floor, I
assumed.
I had expected to see St George’s pretty face smirking at me through the
grille in his usual impudent fashion when the door slid back, but there was
no sign of him. From my vantage point, the lift appeared empty. I wrinkled
my brows before pulling the grille open and sticking my head inside. “St
George…? Are you—? Oh, for God’s sake!”
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