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| About the Book |
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| Read an Excerpt |
DCI Middleton breaks the news about Jocelyn’s
death to her oldest and closest friend, semi-retired thespian, Arthur Boniface...
Middleton banged on Arthur’s front door with his fist.
“Give me a second, darling. I’m as naked as a
jaybird!” Arthur Boniface’s voice, delivered with a Scottish twang, boomed from
behind his front door. “Me, naked, is way too exciting for anyone to
contemplate on a Sunday morning. Even for you, darling! Let me cover up my
muscly, manly body.”
Middleton looked at a chuckling Corky.
“Since when has Arthur Boniface been Scottish?”
Middleton asked.
Corky clicked his tongue. “That’s our Arthur! He’s
the master of mimicry. You never know what to expect. He’s always guaranteed to
put a smile on your face, and he sounds like he could be very Macbeth
today.”
The door opened, and Arthur peered around it,
blinking into the sunlight while tying a belt around his black shantung
kimono-style dressing gown.
“Mr Boniface?” Middleton asked as Arthur craned his
neck to look to either side of him.
“Hello, Corks. Yes, I am the one and only Arthur
Aldrich Boniface, at your service, and who may ask wishes to know?”
Middleton flashed his badge. “I am Detective Chief
Inspector Middleton, Sir.”
“Good Heavens! The strong arm of the law? And two
of you on a Sunday! I thought it was going to be my wonderful neighbour,
Jocelyn, checking up on me after last night’s frivolities. So, what have I done
to warrant a visit from you gorgeous boys in blue?” Arthur looked Middleton up
and down and then winked at him. “Well, pinstriped blue in your case, Detective
Chief Inspector.”
Middleton cleared his throat. “I am from
Chilchester HQ, and Sergeant MacCorkingdale, you obviously know?”
“Of course, I know Corks! His wife played one of my
wives in the DADS production of Run For Your Wife. And very good she was
too. The Guardian reviewed that one, Corks. Do you remember? By the way,
you’re looking very cazh. Sunday morning, mufti, is it? You always look so
handsome in your nice blue uniform, but I digress. How can I help you both?”
Glowering at Corky, Middleton wedged his boot
against the solid oak door. “Can we come in, Sir?”
“Of course!”
Middleton and Corky followed Arthur along the
narrow passageway to the sitting room.
“You’ll have to excuse the mess and my attire, but
I’ve just got out of the bath. Naughty, I know, it’s afternoon now, but I was
entertaining last night. An old friend of mine came down from London
unexpectedly, and things got rather out of hand, so he stayed the night. He
drove back to London this morning and left here at the crack of sparrows. I
waved him au revoir, went back to bed, and drifted off to sleep again. I wasn’t
expecting any visitors today, apart from darling Joc, who always checks in on me
around now. I’d just decided today is going to be a pyjama day. If only I could
find my pyjamas. Come on through. Can I make you a cup of anything? Coffee?
Tea? Me?”
He looked directly at Middleton, chuckling at his
apparent unease.
“Or, I’ve made a jug of Bloody Mary. It’s such a
wonderful pick-me-up, I find.”
“No, thank you, Sir. Coppers don’t drink on duty.”
‘Oh, really? Corky, we must remember that next time
you’re round here looking for Hetty Hargreaves’s cat.”
Middleton narrowed his eyes at Corky, who laughed
coyly, attempting to hide his embarrassment. A police officer wandering around
in a tracksuit while on duty was one thing. However, the Home Office would
never tolerate drinking on the job, even if only while ascertaining a fugitive
feline’s whereabouts.
“Mr Boniface, I apologise for the intrusion on a
Sunday morning, but I need to ask you some questions…”
“Fire away. I am all ears, dears.”
“... but first, sir, I have to deliver some bad
news.”
“Bad news!” Arthur tipped his head back, laughing.
“No news is ever bad in dear old Didders, inspector. That’s one reason I
decided to retire here. I fell in love with the place over forty years ago when
darling Joc first introduced me. But, more than anything, I wanted to be close
to her in my dotage. Joc and I go back many, many moons, you know.”
He flopped on to the sofa, kicking his bare legs in
front of him, then crossed them before tucking them in.
“Do take a seat, gentlemen. The round snuggle chair
is particularly comfortable. Joc gave it to me for my sixtieth. But, of course,
it’s much better when you’ve got someone to snuggle with.”
“I’ll give it a try!” Sergeant MacCorkingdale
eagerly squeezed his prop-forward physique into the chair, which groaned under
his weight.
“There! It fits you perfectly!” Arthur lied. “Joc
and I have spent many happy hours cuddling in that chair watching Netflix. Joc
was my first love at Cambridge and my very first Juliet at Stratford,
Detective Chief Inspector.”
“You say she was…” Middleton narrowed his eyes,
watching Arthur’s face.
“Yes, well, it’s such a tragedy. Neither of us is
still flushed with the zest and enthusiasm that fuelled our youth, nor are we
treading the professional boards anymore. Jocelyn is my best friend and
soulmate. In fact, since Peter is no longer with us, we are everything to each
other. Except for lovers, of course, Jocelyn has always preferred someone a bit
more, you know, macho, in the bedroom department.”
Arthur winked at Middleton, making him shift
uncomfortably in his seat.
“Mr Boniface!” Middleton surprised himself with the deep-throated boom of his voice, which was somewhat louder than he’d intended. “I’m afraid I am here to deliver some terrible news!”
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