Candied Crime Read Online Free Page A

place, then. Plenty of rest and
fresh air and all.” Psalmonella patted her shoulder and stretched
out a hand to put a few tins of baked beans into her
trolley.
    Behind them, the bestseller
writer kicked a sack of dog food viciously.
     
     
    III Toffee´s big chance came when
she received an invitation to Sir Bellini´s pre-Christmas
Party.
    She had been
itching to meet the world-famous violinist, Knavesborough´s only
celebrity. Apart from herself, that was. She donned her best silk
frock, pink with embroidered silver flowers, and a fabulous hat
with ostrich feathers that hid most of her hair. The new hairdo
might not have been her most brilliant idea.
    She had not
expected quite so large a turnout at Netherdale Manor, and when it
dawned upon her that all and sundry had received an invitation, she
ground her teeth. Drinking eggnog with the hoi polloi of Yorkshire
when she could have…
    “In the pink, Miss Brown?” The
officious nurse intercepted her arm just as she was about to
approach her host.
    “Now that I have you here, I
have been meaning to ask you how a blind man can buy and sell
antiques?” Toffee had wanted to know, but she had certainly not
meant to ask such a rude question so where did those words come
from? She squinted at the cup in her hand, wondering what they put
in that tacky brew up here.
    Miss
Mistletoe laughed gaily. “Jim Partridge has a seventh sense, you
might say. Just follow his nose and it´ll lead you to the good
stuff.”
    A Goth butler picked up her
empty cup and put a new one between her fingers. “Exquisite hair,
granny. Who´s your hairstylist if I may ask?”
    Toffee was on
the brink of tears, but she was on a mission. She had come to speak
to Sir Bellini. She looked around her for some place to put down
her cup, but all she saw was taller people´s elbows. Well, down it
would have to go. She drained it surreptitiously and let the cup
slide down into someone´s very large tweed pocket.
    With a determined hiccup, she
squeezed through the throng and swooped down on her tanned host.
“What a pleasure to have you on my own,” she flashed, conveniently
ignoring two-three hundred villagers.
    “Why, nice to meet you, Miss
Brown. I hope you´re enjoying yourself. A Christmas cracker?” He
handed her one end of a glossy twist of paper, and she had no
options but pull at it though the bang always made her heart
flutter.
    “Hahahahaha,” Toffee laughed
shrilly, sensing that this might be her one and only chance. She
ignored the paper hat but rolled out the small strip of paper and
cried out, “Someone in our midst is a famous writer!”
    She heard a gasp behind her.
“But how could you…?”
    Sir Bellini had already switched
his attention to those supercilious vicar´s daughters, and when
Toffee turned around to see who was behind her, she stumbled over
the wheelchair. She caught hold of the armrest and found herself
eye to eye with the blind antique dealer.
    Jim Partridge clenched his fists
and drawled, “So you´re having a bit of fun, are you, Miss
Brown?”
    “ Sorry to
interrupt you two turtledoves, but it´s high time to get home and
feed the cat, Jim.” Agatha Mistletoe released the brake of the
chair and wheeled it away so swiftly that Toffee landed very
inelegantly on her silken bum. Ouch.
     
     
    IV Rhapsody poured herself a
generous glass of cold water in the kitchen. It was the day after
the party, and eggnog always made her feel out of sorts.
    What was that? Miss Brown´s
Pekinese darted up and down the pavement outside her semi, yapping
furiously. And Miss Brown´s front door stood wide open. Something
must be wrong.
    “ Psally.
Psalmonella , where are you?” Rhapsody
showed her sister the open door and the agitated dog.
    “ Something
must be wrong,” Psalmonella declared while she put on her coat.
“Perhaps Miss Brown had too much eggnog.”
    They crossed the street and ran
towards the new development of ugly, semidetached houses.
Tweedledee bared his teeth and