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Cynthia E. Hurst mysteries
Category:
Mystery/Suspense
ISBN-10: B075VKNBKV
Type: Fiction
Pages: 210
Copyright: Sept. 23, 2017
ISBN-13: 9781977597168
Price: $3.99 (eBook)
A gossip columnist in 1860s Oxford makes one enemy too many.
James Leatheran was found dead at his writing desk with a pen embedded in his throat, an ironic death for a man whose acerbic newspaper column had made him so many enemies. Among the targets of his venom were a wealthy banker, a respected police inspector and a humble clock repairer named Jacob Silver. With libel lawsuits brewing and Leatheran’s family closing ranks, it falls to Jacob and his housemaid Sarah Simm to clear their names and find a murderer who is intent on having the final word.
Excerpt
“Who the devil are you?” Pomeroy demanded, while Carey, Jacob and Sarah stood as if transfixed.
“My name is Nicholas Kenright and I have been libeled in that wretched ‘Letterman’ column published in your newspaper.”
He seemed to notice the other three for the first time. “Inspector Carey? What are you doing here? Preparing to arrest someone, I hope. And Mr Silver and Miss …”
“Simm,” Sarah said helpfully.
“This is a madhouse,” Pomeroy said. “I may as well try to publish a newspaper in the middle of Piccadilly Circus.”
“We were about to leave,” Carey said, “but your statement interests me greatly, Mr Kenright. Are you quite serious?”
“I would hardly say it otherwise.”
“To be sure. Will you give Mr Pomeroy an opportunity to print a retraction, or are you hell-bent on suing the newspaper?”
Kenright paused, perhaps remembering that he was still a leading suspect in the search for James Leatheran’s killer.
“I would settle for a statement that the column’s insinuations were entirely false and that the newspaper apologizes for any damage this may have caused to my reputation and my business.”
Pomeroy lifted his shaggy eyebrows. “And what is your business, sir? “
“I am a bank manager, and it was suggested over the course of two ‘Letterman’ columns in this newspaper than I had helped myself to my customers’ money and then, when this fraud was discovered, bribed the police not to investigate.”
“And had you?” Pomeroy asked, with the air of one genuinely interested.
“I should not be threatening you with a libel case or demanding a retraction if it were true.”
“It has been known to happen. Is a solicitor involved in this matter, or are you simply shouting at me in the hope I may fall to my knees and beg your forgiveness?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Kenright said. “I will involve a solicitor if necessary, have no fear, but I am giving you a chance to do the honorable thing before I do. I would have preferred to deal directly with Mr Leatheran, but ...”
“He is not available,” Pomeroy said.
“I know that. He was murdered.”
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