Death Is in the Air by Kate Kingsbury Read Free Book Online Page B

the kitchen, all of you, and make some coffee for Lady Elizabeth and me. And bring a plate of those broken biscuits.” She looked apologetically at Elizabeth. “Sorry they’re in pieces, but I get them off-ration, and they taste the same as if they were whole.”
    “Of course,” Elizabeth assured her. “But don’t worry on my account. A cup of tea will be enough for me.”
    The girls disappeared into the kitchen and, judging from the whisperings going on, were discussing the untimely death of their unfortunate colleague. Elizabeth would have given a week’s sugar ration to overhear what they were talking about.
    Sheila chose that moment, however, to speculate on the whereabouts of the German pilot, and Elizabeth had to content herself with the prospect of questioning the girls later.
    After sampling some of the mushy, stale pieces of broken biscuits, she swallowed down her tea too fast to be genteel, then quickly made her excuses to Sheila, who seemed unflatteringly relieved to let her go.
    Thick white clouds scudded across the sky, promising a squall from the ocean as Elizabeth picked her way across the fields to where Kitty sat perched on a wagon. The land girl’s attempts to urge the weary-looking horse to pull her alongside the sheaves of corn were met with stubborn resistance. The other two girls waited impatiently, ready to toss the corn into the cart with long, unwieldy pitchforks.
    In spite of Maisie’s frail appearance, she seemed to have no trouble lifting a sheaf of corn with the clumsy implement. Elizabeth was quite sure she herself could never have managed it, nor did she have any desire to attempt it. She tapped Maisie on the shoulder andnoticed that the girl started quite violently as she dropped the pitchfork.
    “Sorry, your ladyship,” she muttered. “I didn’t see you coming.”
    “I didn’t mean to startle you,” Elizabeth said, giving her an encouraging smile. “I was just wondering if I could have a quick word with you.”
    “If you’re going to ask her about Amelia,” Pauline said shortly, “she doesn’t know anything we don’t know.”
    “I’m sure she doesn’t,” Elizabeth glanced at Pauline’s sullen face, “but I didn’t want to interrupt all of you at once.”
    The horse, apparently tired of all the screeching and jerking of his reins, took a few reluctant steps forward. Pauline heaved her sheaf into the wagon, and Elizabeth seized the opportunity to draw Maisie aside.
    “I just wanted to ask you how well you knew Amelia,” she said, ignoring Pauline’s baleful glances in their direction.
    Maisie seemed as if she wanted to run away and hide. “Not very well,” she said, her voice trembling on a sob. “She wasn’t as friendly as the rest of us. I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, m’m, but Amelia didn’t really belong with us, if you know what I mean. She was always bragging about her big fancy house and cars, and how she went horse-riding and had ballet lessons and everything.”
    “I see.” Elizabeth glanced over at Pauline, but she had moved on to the next sheaf and was out of earshot. “What about the rest of the girls? How did they feel about Amelia?”
    Maisie’s gaze flicked to Pauline for a second. “They didn’t like her neither. Especially Pauline. Amelia stole her boyfriend from the army camp. Pauline had it in for her after that.”
    Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.
    As if reading her thoughts, Maisie added hurriedly,“She wouldn’t have killed her, though, m’m. Honest. I mean, she couldn’t have, could she. Pauline went to bed the same time as the rest of us. We sleep in the same room, and our floor creaks something terrible. I would have heard if she’d got out of bed.”
    Elizabeth patted the frightened girl’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Maisie. I’m not accusing anyone. Do you know who Amelia was meeting last night?”
    Maisie clutched the pitchfork to her chest as if for support. “It was probably Pauline’s old boyfriend,