An Expert in Murder by Nicola Upson Read Free Book Online Page A

well!’
    Josephine smiled as Lettice blew into the room towards her, dragging in her wake her long-suffering fiancé, George, and four large carrier bags. ‘Trust you to bring a mystery with you,’ Lettice said cryptically as she hugged her friend and threw the morning paper onto a chair, where it soon disappeared under a pile of shopping. ‘Life’s always so much more exciting when you’re south of the border. I’m sorry we weren’t here to welcome you properly this morning, but it’s the Selfridges shoe sale today and you have to get there early if you’re to stand any chance of finding a pair.’
    ‘Don’t they sell them in pairs, then?’ Josephine asked, exchanging an amused and sympathetic wink with George as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
    ‘Oh no, dear, that would take all the fun out of it,’ said Ronnie, who was born with her tongue in her cheek. ‘It’s a shilling a shoe but you’re not so much paying for footwear as for the chance to spend a morning as some sort of modern-day Cinderella.’
    ‘Except that this Prince Charming usually ends up having to carry home enough leather for the entire pantomime,’ George chipped in good-naturedly.
    As always, Lettice took the teasing with good grace and found refuge in her breakfast. Buttering her toast thickly on both sides but, with uncharacteristic self-denial, confining the Silver Shred to the top, she looked cheerfully at her sister. ‘You’ll be smirking on the other side of that ravishing face of yours when Lydia’s got through her third pair of brogues in the first week. You know how clumsy she can be if she has to dance.’ Turning to Josephine, she added: ‘We called in at the theatre to pick up the mail. A letter each for Ronnie and I, but that whole bag is yours.’
    Josephine groaned and walked over to the sack of correspondence that Lettice had jabbed at with her toast. ‘You know, I hardly have to read them these days,’ she said, taking a handful of 35

    letters off the top of the pile. ‘I can tell from the handwriting on the envelope which category they’re going to fall into: complimen-tary and undemanding – they’re the ones I always answer; pedantic and smug – usually with suggestions as to how I might strive for greater historical accuracy next time; and worst of all, the invita-tions – they’re what I use to save on coal. God help me when the Mary Stuart brigade springs into action.’
    ‘How is the casting going for Queen of Scots ?’ Ronnie asked.
    ‘Have they found Lydia her Bothwell yet?’
    ‘No. Lydia and I both think Lewis Fleming would be perfect, but I gather there’s another pretty face on the horizon whom Johnny would prefer,’ Josephine replied, ‘and we all know what that means. Swinburne, his name is, but the only thing I know about him is that he’s made quite an impression at Wyndham’s recently.
    Anyway, that’s one of the things on the agenda this afternoon.
    Johnny’s asked Fleming to stand in as Richard for the matinee so we can go over and thrash it all out with Aubrey. After all, it’s his money. They’re hoping to open in June, but now that Johnny’s got it into his head to try for a film of Richard , it’s all a bit up in the air. And I don’t know how he thinks he’s going to direct Queen of Scots , work on a film and tour as well. Even our young meteor can’t be in three places at once.’
    ‘He told me the other day that he was hoping to get out of the tour by persuading Aubrey to send Fleming instead,’ said George who, as an actor himself and the Motleys’ self-appointed manager, was no stranger to dealing with egos considerably more fragile than his own, and with characters much less placid and kindly.
    ‘But there isn’t a chance in hell that he’s going to get out of that contract: Bordeaux in the provinces is a licence to print money but, just for once, Johnny’s underestimated the value of his name on the bill. The public recognises only one Richard and it