Foul Play at Seal Bay , livre ebook

Boldwood Books - Judy Leigh

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150 pages

English

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A brand-new series perfect for Richard Osman readers and all fans of a page-turning whodunnit.

It was meant to be the start of quiet season in the sleepy Cornish village of Seal Bay, but not for sexagenarian librarian and wild swimming enthusiast Morwenna Mutton. Because when a local businessman is found on the beach with a bread knife is his back, bungling police officer DI Rick Tremayne is soon out of his depth. Morwenna knows it’s going to be down to her to crack the case.

The list of people the victim upset is long, the evidence is slight, and an arrest illusive. Morwenna has plenty to occupy her time what with ghostly goings-on at the library and skullduggery at her granddaughter’s school, but she could never resist a challenge. And even the most ruthless of murderers should quake at the sight of this amateur sleuth getting on her bike to track them down.

If you love Miss Marple and The Thursday Murder Club, then you'll love The Morwenna Mutton mysteries.

Readers love Judy Leigh:

‘Loved this from cover to cover, pity I can only give this 5 stars as it deserves far more.’

‘I loved reading this book, great characters and this author certainly knows how to put a good story together. I'm really looking forward to reading more books by her.’

‘This author never disappoints, always a joy to find one of her books which I haven’t read.’

‘This book is yet another triumph from an author who never disappoints me, and very much recommended.’

Sujets

Informations

Publié par	Boldwood Books
Date de parution	07 août 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781837514533
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,1500€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

FOUL PLAY AT SEAL BAY

JUDY LEIGH
CONTENTS

Glossary

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Acknowledgments

More from Judy Leigh

About the Author

Also by Judy Leigh

About Boldwood Books
To Kiran and Ken.
Thanks for the idea of a Cornish sleuth.
This is all down to you…
GLOSSARY

All right - Hello, how are you? I’m fine. It can be used as a greeting, question and answer all within the same conversation.

Ansom, ansum, ansome, handsum - Nice, handsome, good.

Bleddy - Local pronunciation of 'bloody' as an emphasising adjective.

Dreckly - At some point in the future; soon, but not immediately.

Emmet - A tourist. It actually means an ant.

Giss on! - Stop talking rubbish!

Heller - Lively, troublesome child.

Jumping - Angry.

Maid - Any girl or woman, often used as a form of address.

My bewty - My beauty, a term of affection. Bewty can also be substituted with ansom.

Oggy - Pasty (from Cornish language hogen )

Proper - Satisfactory, good.

Teasy, teazy - Bad-tempered.

Tuss - An obnoxious person.
1

Morwenna Mutton and her bicycle sped down the hill as one. Houses rushed past in a blur on either side as she plummeted towards the shining sapphire half-moon of the bay. She spun the pedals; it would be a harder ride uphill on the way home, but that was later, and this was now. The road plateaued out as she pushed her trainer-soled feet harder for extra speed, flashing past the pop-up shop where Susan and Barb Grundy raised their knitting needles in greeting. Morwenna waved back. She could imagine them talking right now, their voices a low cluck:
‘There goes Morwenna on her way to the library. It must be almost nine o’clock.’
‘Look at her, all that hair and stripey leggings, and at her age too.’
‘They are all the same, those Mutton women, not one of them cares what anyone thinks.’
‘I know, Barb – she’s no spring chicken. And there’s no man in the house now to calm her ways. Whatever does she think she’s like?’
Morwenna grinned as she swerved around a car – the driver hadn’t noticed her – and took a left-hand bend into a paved street. Of course, she had no evidence that Susan and her sister Barb were talking about her but, bless them, they talked about everyone all the time, their gossip hiding warm hearts as they sat in their shop knitting to raise funds for the Lifeboats Institution.
She slowed down outside Seal Bay Library, a Victorian red-brick building, the wooden door already gaping wide to greet visitors. She cocked a rainbow-striped leg over the saddle and wheeled the old sit-up-and-beg, complete with basket, into the library. One day she’d get one of those modern electric bikes: it would certainly help with the steep hills that made her lungs heave each evening on the way back to Harbour Cottages. Years ago, she’d whizz everywhere with no effort, but now going uphill was slower and harder. Besides, it was the first day of September; the rains would come soon and it was always less fun checking in borrowed books when you were drenched from head to foot and steaming.
Morwenna shook her hair free from her collar, a fountain of silver. Now she was in her sixties – sixty one – people said she should cut it or wear it in a sensible bun. It would be more appropriate, apparently. Morwenna laughed: the word appropriate wasn’t invented for her. She’d always had long hair. She wasn’t going to change now. She leaned the bike against a wall in the corridor and sauntered into the library, smelling the welcoming dusty aroma of much-loved books. Louise Piper was efficiently arranging novels from the returns trolley onto the shelves. She turned, short flame hair, a flash of red lipstick, and smiled a greeting. ‘Nine o’clock. Bang on time. Kettle’s on. Cup of tea?’
‘I’d love one.’ Morwenna stowed her jacket and bag in her locker and watched Louise’s brisk movements affectionately. Louise was absolutely reliable; she ran the Seal Bay library five days a week with military precision. Ten years younger than Morwenna, she was her complete opposite: sensible, inscrutable, married. They were the perfect partners. Louise handed Morwenna a mug with the scrawled slogan: No one’s perfect but being Cornish is near ’nuff.
Morwenna took a sip. ‘Are we on for a swim on Sunday, bright and early?’
‘Wouldn’t miss it.’ Louise slurped milky brown liquid from her own mug. ‘It’s a shame we can’t get more people to come. If only they knew how good it is for body and soul. Will your mum come along, or will it be just us two and a few random stragglers?’
‘Mum keeps threatening to turn up, but it’s too early for her. She sleeps in until lunchtime and then grumbles that her hips are sore.’
‘She is in her eighties though.
‘That’s no excuse,’ Morwenna protested. ‘She’s always telling me we’re from strong female stock.’
‘What about your daughter?’
Morwenna shook her head, her hair spilling over her face. ‘No way. Tam’s too busy with the tea shop and looking after Elowen, although I’d love to take the little one swimming with us. She’s like a dolphin in the water; she’s desperate to join in. Tam says she can come when she’s ten, but I think now’s as good a time as any. Five isn’t too young. She’d be safe with us in shallow water.’
‘She would,’ Louise agreed. She put down her cup and reached for a pile of books. ‘It’s time to tidy up.’
‘We seem to have a lot of stray books this morning.’ Morwenna gazed at the pile on the counter. ‘Has Lizzie been up to her tricks?’
Louise was serious. ‘She has. She’s been at the biscuits again too. The packet was open when I came in, crumbs all over the floor. And she’s been rearranging the books under the counter. You probably ought to address her properly: Lady Elizabeth Pengellen – we should respect the dead.’
‘You don’t really believe she’s haunting the library, do you?’
‘I do – I find books every day where I know I haven’t left them: by the door, beneath the shelves. And she loves snacks. She even had a bite of a cheese sandwich I left behind.’ Louise’s eyes were round. ‘We definitely have a restless ghost at large.’
‘It’s probably my fault there are books left out. I didn’t eat the cheese sandwich though.’ Morwenna grinned. ‘Being serious, it is a known fact that Lady Elizabeth died in terrible circumstances at Pengellen Manor and is said to haunt the town library because it was her sanctuary. Apparently, her husband treated her badly and the only way she could escape him was by coming here to read.’
‘I believe it.’ Louise was serious. ‘Then her husband broke her heart, and she took poison. Lady Elizabeth’s only solace was her books – she often hid away amongst the ordinary folk of Seal Bay. Now she’s returns to us each night.’
Morwenna waved a copy of Wind in the Willows she’d just found beneath the counter. ‘Well, I agree with her about being among books – a good read is the best companion.’ She finished the last gulp from her mug and joined Louise, who was arranging novels on shelves. ‘Who needs a man when you can read a good book?’
‘But love is everything…’ Louise touched a copy of Sense and Sensibility . ‘Jane Austen said, “To love is to burn, to be on fire.”’ She sighed. ‘I’m so lucky to have my Steve. We’ve been married thirty years this Christmas, you know.’
‘She also said, “Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love,”’ Morwenna quipped quickly. ‘I’m done with romance. It’s too much like hard work.’
‘You can’t mean that.’ Louise paused before she asked, ‘Do you think you and Ruan might get back together one day?’
‘After all those years, bringing up Tamsin through thick and thin, for richer and poorer? We became a habit – we were just going through the motions in the end. Ah, we’re still friends, but no, things went wrong for us.’ Morwenna was lost in thought for a moment. ‘I still see him some mornings, heading off at dawn. Being a fisherman keeps him going. I don’t think he’ll ever retire from the boats – it’s his first love, the sea.’ She shrugged. ‘His only love.’
‘Isn’t it difficult, having him living across the road?’
‘It’s great when I run out of teabags,’ Morwenna joked. She indicated two books. ‘Oh look – Emma and Northanger Abbey are in the wrong places – Lizzie was busy last night.’
Louise put a finger to her lips. ‘She’ll hear you.’
‘If she does, I’ll ask her to tidy up once she’s finished reading…’ Morwenna’s eyes twinkled.
There were footsteps in the corridor and Louise jerked around nervously, startled as a rabbit. A young man walked in, slender in a smart jacket and jeans, a sweeping fringe over his eyes. Morwenna rushed across. ‘Hello, Simon. How’s it going?’
The young man leaned on the counter. ‘I need something to read…’
‘Then you’re in the right place.’ Morwenna smiled. ‘What are you looking for? Something on business? Economics? More John Maynard Keynes?’
‘I finished uni a year ago. I’ve just been bumming around since.’ Simon shrugged. ‘My dad says I need a job…’
‘How is Alex?’ Louise asked, strolling across to the counter.
‘I never see him much – or my mum,’ Simon grunted. ‘They do their own thing.’
‘Well, it’s such a big house – I expect it’s easy to lose them.’ Louise leaned on her elbows. ‘And you have such a lovely view of the sea. I always say to Steve, if we had pots of money, that’s the house I’d like to buy. It’s remote, beautiful, on the romantic cliff top, the best spot in Seal Bay.’
‘I want to get a flat in Truro. Or London.’ Simon gazed around the library. ‘I was born