Herald of Death Read Online Free

out things, and people will talk to you, where they won’t talk to me. I thought if you could just ask questions here and there, you know, like you usually do. . . .” He let his voice trail off, leaving Cecily no recourse but to answer.
    There it was. The favor she’d been hoping he wasn’t going to ask, fearing all the time that it was exactly what he had in mind.
    This was the very first time Sam had ever asked for her help, and she was flattered. Intrigued by the gold angel stamps and missing locks of hair, she was also sorely tempted.
    There was only one problem. After a lengthy and sometimes heated argument, Baxter had refused an important position abroad in order to allow her to remain in Badgers End as the Pennyfoot’s manager. In exchange, she had promised never to get involved with another murder case.
    It pained her a great deal to refuse Sam, especially since it meant he would most likely have to forgo his Christmas visit to London. More so, because she was already interested enough in the case to do some snooping, and most of all, because the threat of a murderer afoot in Badgers End could once more put a dampener on the Pennyfoot’s Christmas season.
    A promise was a promise, however, and she had broken enough of them in the past that it had taken a great deal of persuasion on her part for Baxter to accept the compromise.
    “I’m dreadfully sorry, Sam.” She squirmed at the dismay on the constable’s face, but nevertheless pressed on. “My duties here in the country club prevent me from taking on any extra activities at present. I’m afraid you will have to hunt down this killer without me.”
    Sam shook his head in bewilderment. “But, Mrs. B., you’ve always jumped in before. Sometimes, or most of the time, you’ve done it despite the fact that I’ve asked you not to h’interfere. Now I’m asking you to help me with the sanction of the constabulary, albeit without the knowledge of the inspector. I don’t understand.”
    She would have liked to enlighten him, but to admit to Sam Northcott that her hands were tied by a promise to her husband was utterly unthinkable. “I’m so sorry, Sam. If you come across any clues, I might be able to help you untangle them, but as far as questioning people and actively investigating, I’m afraid it’s out of the question.”
    The constable’s movements were slow and deliberate as he got to his feet, straightened his tunic, and reached for his helmet. “I’m sorry I inconvenienced you, m’m. I’ll be off now.”
    Cecily followed him to the door, still murmuring apologies. “Perhaps you’d care to stop by the kitchen?” she offered, as an attempt to make up for disappointing him. “I’m sure Mrs. Chubb will be able to find something delicious for you.”
    He wavered, obviously torn between making a dignified exit and savoring some of Mrs. Chubb’s mouthwatering baking. The baking won, and with a nod of thanks, he hurried off to the kitchen.
    Cecily sat for some time after he’d left, gazing into the flickering flames from the coals. Once more violence had struck in the village. Fortunately, at least this time it hadn’t happened inside the walls of the Pennyfoot. Yet.
    She had to wonder what would happen if someone else died by another’s hand and under her roof. How could she possibly stay out of it then?
    Worse, how could she possibly break such a significant promise to her husband? He had given up so much so that she could stay in her beloved Pennyfoot. He would never forgive her if she betrayed him this time. All she could hope was that the killer had achieved his evil purpose and left the village. For if he still lingered there, she could envision all kinds of trouble ahead.
     
     
    “I don’t think we’re ever going to be ready for Christmas,” Pansy said, as she carefully fitted a serviette into its silver ring and laid it on the bleached white tablecloth. “Usually Mrs. Prestwick has all the decorations up by now.”
    Gertie gave