Barksdale Tea? Coffee? Murder! - Dressed for Murder

1. Auflage 2025
ISBN: 978-3-7517-8449-8
Verlag: Lübbe
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 142 Seiten

Reihe: Lübbe

Nathalie is finally looking forward to some romantic time with her boyfriend, Fred - until two coaches pull up outside the Black Feather, packed with passengers dressed as Albert Einstein, Marilyn Monroe, and a whole host of other stars. They had planned to enter a lookalike competition, but the hotel cancelled their booking. Suddenly, the inn is bursting with impersonators, but the fun comes to a shocking halt when one of the Elvis lookalikes is found dead! Can Nathalie and Louise see past the disguises and catch the killer before they strike again?

About the series: There was nothing in the will about this ...

Cottages, English roses and rolling hills: that's Earlsraven. In the middle of it all: the 'Black Feather'. Not only does young Nathalie Ames unexpectedly inherit this cosy inn from her aunt, she also falls heir to her aunt's secret double life! She solved criminal cases together with her cook Louise, a former agent of the British Crown. And while Nathalie is still trying to warm up to the quirky villagers, she discovers that sleuthing runs in the family.

Ellen Barksdale was born in the English seaside resort of Brighton, where her parents ran a small boarding house. From childhood she was a bookworm, and from a young age was interested in crime novels. Her first experience of crime fiction was with the Maigret novels by Georges Simenon. After years of reading crime fiction, she recently decided to take up writing herself. 'Tea? Coffee? Murder!' is her first mystery series. The author lives near Swansea with her partner Ian and their three dogs Billy, Bobby and Libby.

Ellen Barksdale was born in the English seaside resort of Brighton, where her parents ran a small boarding house. Her first experience of crime fiction was with the novels by Georges Simenon (her mother is Belgian by birth). After years of reading crime fiction, she recently decided to take up writing herself. 'Tea? Coffee? Murder!' is her first mystery series. Ellen Barksdale lives near Swansea with her partner Ian and their three dogs Billy, Bobby and Libby.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Barksdale, Ellen

Leseproben

Chapter One, in which strange encounters occur

“This is my idea of a lovely spring day,” said Nathalie Ames as she walked hand in hand with her boyfriend, Fred Estaire, along one of Pelham Woods’ many hiking trails. “Sunshine, a few bright white clouds in the blue sky, temperatures that make it easy to do without a jacket. And the sound of the birds. It’s just a shame you can’t see them for all the greenery …”

Fred looked round and shook his head thoughtfully. “It’s funny. In Earlsraven we’re also surrounded by greenery, and yet it still seems a lot more peaceful and idyllic here.”

“That’s because there’s no pub here and no car park,” she said.

“And no crazy people who commit murder,” he added, putting his arm around Nathalie’s shoulders.

“You’d better not say that too loudly. After the experiences of the last few months, I wouldn’t be surprised if we stumbled over a dead body now.”

Fred waved his hand calmly. “We’re here in the middle of the countryside, far away from any civilisation, so to speak. Nobody’s going to give us any detective work here.”

Nathalie’s mouth twisted. “You’re forgetting that we’re in Pelham Woods. This is also where the dead TV chef was found.”

“Oh yes, that’s right. That in Pelham Woods.” He drew his eyebrows together. “But it wasn’t right here, was it?”

“No, I made sure of that when I planned our route,” she assured him. “I wasn’t planning on taking a nostalgic trip to the crime scenes I’ve been to since I came to Earlsraven.” She stopped and put her head back to look up at the treetops. “I just want to spend two or three romantic hours alone with you, without one of the waitresses knocking and asking if I can help out in the pub or café because it’s so busy.” She sighed softly. “Come on, let’s sit there for a while,” she suggested, directing Fred to the edge of the footpath.

“Yes, we don’t have much time for dates at the moment,” he agreed with her. “But if it’s not our work that’s stopping us, then it’s a mysterious death that’s keeping us all busy, especially you and Louise.” As he spoke, he raised a hand to prevent any misunderstanding. “It’s not an accusation, Nathalie. You two are the ones who are most actively supporting Ronald. I’m not counting Jean-Louis as a forensic scientist — he does that full time. But Martin, Belle and I, we’re more like your right-hand men.”

She shook her head emphatically. “You shouldn’t even think that, Fred. In Pittlewood, for example, we would never have made such rapid progress with the investigation without you. You’re not playing second fiddle — you’re always at the forefront. We’re a team, right?”

“Sure, boss,” Fred said with a smile.

When he looked at her thoughtfully for a while, Nathalie finally asked, “Is something wrong?”

He shrugged his shoulders indecisively, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should really say what was on the tip of his tongue. “No, I just haven’t got used to your new hairstyle yet. It’s all so short … and gone … and … well, you know …”

Nathalie nodded understandingly. When she had looked in the mirror that morning, she had wondered who the strange woman in her bathroom was. “I still have to get used to it myself, Fred. But I was really annoyed by my long hair yesterday afternoon and decided to do something about it.”

The day before, she had been out and about in the region to visit some of the farmers who supplied her pub and the country market with their produce. Thursday had been an extremely windy day, and her hair had been blowing in her face the whole time.

“Yes, you explained that to me this morning,” he said. “Still … um … well … I hope it doesn’t mean anything.”

“What do you mean?” Nathalie replied, confused.

“Well, in the films we’ve seen together when a woman usually gets a completely different hairstyle — that’s when a relationship ends.” He scratched his chin sheepishly.

Nathalie frowned. “Do you think I had my hair cut off because I want to break up with you?” she asked incredulously.

Fred made a vague gesture. “To be honest, some of these romcoms are liable to confuse men and women alike because they give them the wrong idea.”

Nathalie laughed briefly. “Oh, yes, Fred, I know what you mean.” She sighed softly. “Don’t forget that people in films only do things for dramatic effect.”

“So, I have no reason to worry?”

Nathalie put her arms around him and kissed him. “Is that enough of an answer?” she replied when they were both still a little out of breath after the kiss.

“For a start, yes,” he said with an amorous smile.

“Apart from that, there’s something going on with pretty much everyone’s appearance at the moment,” she continued as she watched a squirrel come running out of the bushes. “First Ronald shaves off his moustache and, then, frustrated that hardly anyone recognises him, he grows it back and adds a goatee, too. Louise no longer looks like Judi Dench with her longer hair, and Martin has said goodbye to his Bela Lugosi Dracula look.” Nathalie tilted her head and looked at Fred. “Besides, you got rid of your curly mane without warning me.”

Fred’s mouth twisted. “You know, after that meeting with Ellison went nowhere, I thought I’d change my image.”

“Serious businessman instead of free-thinking artist?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Perhaps my long hair made them think I was a hippy who could be sold anything with the prospect of a nice chunk of money, even a hostile takeover,” he said, smiling. Then he grabbed his short hair and added, “It’s only temporary, anyway. Once we’ve found a business partner, I can let it all grow back.”

“Speaking of hippies, did you hear about J.L. and Belle?” Nathalie wanted to know, referring to the forensic scientist, Jean-Louis, by his nickname.

“You mean that J.L. has now also proposed? Yes, Louise told me this morning.”

She grimaced. “Apparently, Louise wanted to film the proposal, but she ran out of space on her mobile phone. So, I haven’t seen any footage yet. But I’m sure J.L. or Belle will post something about it on the internet.”

“But what does that have to do with hippies?” Fred asked.

“So … Jean-Louis had Belle come to the Black Feather under a pretext and waited for her in the car park. When she arrived, he was standing in front of a curtain hung between two parked vans. Then the curtain fell, and behind it the ensemble of this musical troupe, which is currently touring the country’s seaside resorts with , had gathered to perform ‘Let the Sunshine In’ with Jean-Louis. The musical performers adapted the lyrics so that the whole marriage proposal was sung.”

“Wow!” he repeated in amazement. “That’s something to pull off.”

“I think J.L. knows someone in the group, so it probably wasn’t that difficult to arrange.”

Fred nodded. “Jean-Louis really kept poor Belle in suspense. She proposed to him three or four months ago.”

“I think he wanted to do something special,” said Nathalie. “And don’t forget that having an ensemble sing ‘Let the Sunshine In,’ while it’s pouring with rain, wouldn’t look good. So, it made sense to wait for more stable weather. It’s just a shame that I was negotiating with Ann Tisdale about a collaboration with our country market at the time. As the conversation didn’t lead to anything, I really would have been better off staying at home. Then I would have experienced this special moment.”

“Does that mean she doesn’t want to offer products from the country market in her travelling supermarket?”

Nathalie shook her head. “No, she says there are no takers for it among her customers.”

“Hmm, I can’t imagine that,” Fred muttered. “When I see how much demand there is for healthy produce from our region, it would be a good thing if Ann Tisdale had at least some of it on offer. That would be good extra business for both sides.”

“I tried to explain it to her,” Nathalie assured him as the squirrel reappeared, then scampered into the bushes opposite. “There are plenty of people in the neighbourhood who aren’t mobile enough to come to our country market. Okay, we do home delivery, but there’s a difference between ordering what you usually eat, and standing in front of a large, tempting selection that whets your appetite for something special. But Mrs Tisdale doesn’t want that. Finally, she said that I shouldn’t get the idea of trying to compete with her.”

Fred grinned at her. “I take it that warning didn’t go down too well with you.”

“So much so that next week I’m going to enquire with a few companies about the cost of converting a vehicle we could use.”

“Honestly?”

“Of course. I’m taking her ‘warning’ as a challenge.”

“Never mess with Nathalie,” he said and pulled her close. At that moment, her smartphone rang.

“It’s Louise,” she realised after glancing at the display.

“Why don’t you let her call back in half an hour?” he suggested and tried to pull her close again.

“No … yes, okay,” Nathalie said, visibly torn. “But when Louise calls, she usually has an important reason. I’ve explained to her that I don’t want to be disturbed unless a UFO lands in the car park.” She took the call and listened to what her friend had to say. “Yes … yes, if you can...

Über Autor(innen)

Barksdale, Ellen
Ellen Barksdale was born in the English seaside resort of Brighton, where her parents ran a small boarding house. Her first experience of crime fiction was with the Maigret novels by Georges Simenon (her mother is Belgian by birth). After years of reading crime fiction, she recently decided to take up writing herself. “Tea? Coffee? Murder!” is her first mystery series. Ellen Barksdale lives near Swansea with her partner Ian and their three dogs Billy, Bobby and Libby.