Deadly Investment (A Fitzjohn Mystery Book 5) Read Free Page A

cool air met her when she opened the front door and she sighed with relief. Placing her hand-bag and cane on the hall table, she removed her straw hat. It was then that she glanced in the mirror and grimaced. ‘Oh, you do look a fright, my girl.’ Pushing a few wavy grey wisps of hair back into place, she studied herself again. ‘That’s better.’
    In the kitchen, she filled the kettle and put it on the hob, her actions instinctive. When it began to whistle, she poured the steaming water into a small stainless steel teapot and set it aside to brew. Her favourite Royal Doulton china cup, saucer and plate she took down from the cupboard. As she did so, she eyed the loaf of banana bread that sat on the counter. ‘Mmm. I think that’s just what I need right now,’ she said before cutting herself a small piece and spreading it liberally with butter. Lastly, with the tea now brewed, she filled her cup and placed it, along with the banana bread, onto a wooden tray, its surface a garden of pink roses. Grasping the tray, she marched back through the house to the living room. As she did so, the sound of the door chime echoed through the house. Unprepared, Esme faltered and struggled to regain her balance. With determination, she continued on into the living room and after putting the tray down on the side table next to her armchair, she went to open the front door. To her surprise, she found Alison Maybrick.
    Looking the epitome of officialdom in a dark grey suit, Alison pursed her thin lips and said, ‘Miss Timmons. I’ve been trying to reach you all day.’ As she spoke, a strand of copper coloured hair escaped from its clasp at the nape of her neck. Alison shoved it back in place.
    Esme ignored the impatient edge to Alison’s voice, all too aware of the woman’s haughty nature.
    ‘I’ve been out having lunch with Mildred Banks,’ she replied, stepping back from the doorway to allow Alison inside. ‘We’ve done so on the second Thursday of each month for years.’ Esme sighed and closed the door behind Alison. ‘But alas, this time it was a sad occasion. You see, it’s the first time there’s been just the two of us. Your step-mother never missed our little get-togethers. Her empty chair made her passing all the more poignant.’ Esme gave a warm smile and led the way into the living room.
    ‘I can imagine,’ replied Alison, hovering in the doorway.
    ‘Have a seat, dear,’ continued Esme, ignoring Alison’s condescending manner. ‘I’ve just made a pot of tea. Would you like to join me?’
    ‘No. I can’t stay. I just came to ask something of you.’
    ‘Well, if it’s about the funeral arrangements, I’m more than happy to help in any way I can. As is Mildred, of course.’
    ‘That won’t be necessary. All the preparations have been made. The service will be at ten-thirty next Monday morning in the South Chapel at the Northern Suburbs Memorial Gardens. What I would like you to do, Miss Timmons, is to say a few kind words about Beatrice. I think it would be appropriate being that you’ve probably known her the longest.’
    ‘That’s true. I have. Along with Mildred, of course. I think I can speak for her and say that we’ll both be more than pleased to speak at the service.’
    ‘Not both of you,’ replied Alison with a sharp edge to her voice. ‘There isn’t time for that. You’ll only have three minutes.’
    ‘Oh. That is a shame. Mildred will be disappointed. Nevertheless, I’ll do my best although to do so in three minutes won’t be an easy task when speaking about Beatrice. A woman who left such a huge imprint.’ Esme gave Alison a wry smile.
    ‘I’m sure you’ll manage. Just remember. Short and to the point,’ replied Alison, her cold grey eyes narrowing at Esme. ‘Now, I have to go. I’m late for an appointment.’ She turned to leave. ‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ she said, turning back. ‘I’ve been asked to pass some tickets on to you and Mildred.’ Alison burrowed into her