Murder Is At Hand.

Chapter 3

I spent the rest of the afternoon meeting and greeting numerous people, smiling, making small talk and generally being a sociable person. It was hard work, as some of the people I met were fans of Adam Hart as well, and so therefore recognised me. In the end, I gave in, throwing out a few wild deductions here and there. It didn't really matter how correct I was, as the people I was talking to seemed eager to twist anything I said into a vague image of the truth. Newham always hovered somewhere around me, talking to some of his friends, who always seemed be different people every five minutes.

Dinner was another tiring affair. I sat with Newham, Church, and a private  along with his wife. I felt a little awkward, as the married couple were barely older than Newham and I were, and were both obviously hinting at something throughout the meal. Church was a sound joker, and with his jokes and my wit we kept the table in high spirits for the whole evening. People kept coming over to us to say hello,  as it appeared word had spread about the 'famous' detective in their midst. Newham seemed a little unnerved by the whole affair.

After dinner, Newham and Church went off to play a few friendly rounds of poker, so I accompanied the young wife I had been sitting with at dinner into one of the lounges. She was a very pretty young woman, with cropped, straight black hair and a slender figure. She was taller than me, but then everyone usually was, and her face was pale, with very wide, open features. She looked a little like a child's doll, big eyes and small nose, but she had a very large mouth and a smile which tended to split her face in two. She was quite heavily made up, which was probably what gave her the likeness to a doll, and she was wearing a navy blue dress with black lace. I had by then changed into the duck-egg blue affair, but had tried to keep everything else as simple as possible so as not to look too well off. The wife's name was Hettie Broker, and her husband was Private Broker from Newham's regiment. We had got on well from the off, and we were now discussing books, namely Sedgefield Carburry, as it appeared she was as much of an armchair detective as I was.

"Which one are you reading?" she asked eagerly.

"The Joker In The Pack"  I replied. "I'm almost finished, though. What about you?"

"Mystery Man" Hettie replied. I gasped.

"Oh, where are you up to? I've read it, it's just..." I trailed off desperately,  as I tried to express my feelings in a way that would justify the book's  impact on me when I had read the final chapter. Planned, coinciding suicide that was turned into murder...it just blew my mind, and I wanted to see how far Hettie had got.

"I've got to the bit where the maid dies" Hettie told me excitedly. I gasped again and began to laugh.

"You're not mentally prepared for this book, I warn you!" I said, and she bit her lip and laughed too.

"Don't spoil it!" she giggled. "Or I may be responsible for the death of the greatest female detective in all of London!"

"I hope not!" I complained jokingly. "Have you ever read The Joker In The Pack?"

Hettie shook her head.

"I'm going to, just as soon as I've finished this one. Percy thinks I'm mad, reading all these murder mysteries."

Percy was the first name of Hettie's husband, the private from Newham's regiment.

"Newham probably hates them" I sighed. "I mean, it was these books that got me into detective work in the first place. He hates it when I go off on dangerous schemes."

"Percy would, too, if I ever had the nerve to do some of the stuff you do" Hettie sighed admiringly. "Tell me about all your cases, Miss Winter."

"Please, call me Allie" I smiled.