The Sans Pareil Mystery (The Detective Lavender Mysteries Book 2) Read Free

Higgin screamed. She pointed back into Raleigh Close. ‘You’ve killed ’er!’ she shrieked. ‘I told you that you would! You’ve killed ’er, you stupid sapheads!’
    Alarmed, Lavender followed the line of her trembling finger through the dust towards the mangled and swaying remains of the upper storey. The blackened ceiling and wood panels of the interior room where Constable Woods had once stood were now visible.
    There, dangling backwards over the jagged edge of the upper floor, was the body of a young woman. She was on her back. Her lifeless eyes stared up towards the cold February sky. Raven hair, turned grey with dust, cascaded from her head down towards the courtyard below. One arm trailed helplessly and swayed in the breeze. Her lower extremities appeared to be trapped beneath the void of the floorboards of the room.
    Lavender gasped and ran towards the entrance to Raleigh Close.
    ‘Heaven and hell!’ Woods pounded behind him.
    ‘They’ve bloody killed ’er,’ screeched Mistress Higgin behind them. ‘I told those Runners there was a woman in there! Them Bow Street constables have killed that gal!’

Chapter Two
    Raleigh Close heaved and complained loudly with the crack of wood and the groan of straining timber as Lavender and his men raced up the narrow, swaying staircase. Lavender stopped at the doorway of the half-demolished chamber and grasped hold of the doorjamb to steady himself. The stench of death overpowered him. He recognised it immediately. One glance at the corpse, only a few feet away, confirmed what his nostrils had already told him.
    ‘Stop!’ he instructed his men, some of whom were only halfway up the stairs.
    ‘There’s too many of us. It won’t take our weight.’ He pointed to the youngest and slightest of his constables. ‘Barnaby – you stay with me. Someone fetch me a pick – and Woods, you sort out that hysterical Higgin woman and the rest of the crowd.’
    ‘What shall I say?’
    ‘Tell them that this girl’s been dead for days. The body is decaying. Go and tell the mob before we have a riot on our hands. She’s obviously been murdered and buried beneath the floorboards. It is nothing to do with the demolition of the building.’
    His constables nodded and backed down the stairs, leaving him and young Barnaby alone. There was less movement now. For the moment, Raleigh Close had settled.
    ‘What do you want me to do, sir?’ asked the bright-eyed young man.
    Lavender scanned the debris on the floor of the chamber. ‘There might be evidence of her murderers in here. We need to search this room thoroughly and collect up every item. If we crawl and spread out our weight, it might work.’
    ‘I’ll do it, sir!’ Before Lavender could stop him, Barnaby had dropped to the floor and squirmed across the blackened floorboards.
    Lavender held his breath as he watched him, grateful for the boy’s sharp eyes, his enthusiasm and the fact that he didn’t have to ruin his own coat and breeches on the snags of the filthy floor.
    It didn’t take Barnaby long to gather up a few stale crusts and scraps of paper, a mouldy blanket, a chipped pewter mug and some pieces of rope.
    ‘The rope may ’ave been used to bind her,’ he said as he dragged his haul back to Lavender.
    ‘Are there any fresh bloodstains on the floorboards?’ Lavender asked.
    Barnaby set off back across the floor. ‘No. But there’s fresh footprints in the dust from a man’s boot and there’s an overturned wooden chair right on the edge of the precipice,’ he called back over his shoulder. ‘Could it be a sign of a struggle, perhaps?’
    ‘It’s difficult to say,’ Lavender said. ‘When the wall fell everything turned upside down and shifted in this room. You’ve done well, Barnaby. Make your way back to the door now.’
    Lavender glanced around and spotted a discarded pannier further down the hallway. It was the type used by flower sellers in Covent Garden. Like everything else in Raleigh Close,