Read The Shadow at Greystone Chase (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 10) for Free Online Page B

in a faded Crescent which some enterprising local business-man had built on the sea front in the early years of the town’s prosperity. The Crescent was situated in the finest part of Denborough, and the Regent was in the finest part of the Crescent—at the very centre, which gave it a direct and unobstructed view of Denborough Bay. Other, lesser hotels, nearer the outer edges of the Crescent, had inferior views and a correspondingly inferior clientele. Angela had arrived at the Regent the day before and had been swiftly pounced upon by Mrs. Hudd (Mrs. Beatrice Hudd of the Staffordshire Hudds, as she hastened to mention— not the ironmongery people, oh dear, no!) and Miss Atkinson, who lived in Surrey but had been a Kentish girl. The two ladies came at the same time every year and feasted upon such social glory as remained in the town these days. The arrival of Mrs. Wells was a cause of great excitement to them both, and was tempered by only a little initial reserve at the newcomer’s relative youth and high social standing, as evidenced by the fact that she brought with her a lady’s maid. Angela’s easy manner and lack of self-importance soon dissipated any doubts they may have had, however, and in less than twenty-four hours she had been welcomed into their little circle and was fast becoming privy to their thoughts on everybody and everything.
    ‘If you are not familiar with the area, let me assure you that there are many beauties hereabouts,’ said Mrs. Hudd. ‘Besides the bay itself, I mean. Fallow Hill, for example, is a noted landmark which you would be wise not to miss. There are also a number of country parks, although some of the finest ones are private and not open to visitors.’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ said Miss Atkinson. ‘Brancome Hall is simply delightful. I visit it every year and it never disappoints.’
    ‘Brancome Hall? Is that the large house one passes shortly before turning onto the Denborough road?’ said Angela, although she knew very well that it was not.
    ‘No, Brancome is quite in the other direction—farther along the coast towards Ramsgate,’ said Mrs. Hudd. ‘I believe the house to which you are referring is Greystone Chase.’ She drew herself up disapprovingly. ‘A very odd place. It belongs to the French.’
    ‘What, all of them?’ said Angela.
    Miss Atkinson tittered behind her hand.
    ‘Not exactly,’ she said. ‘Mrs. Hudd means they are a family from France.’
    ‘I am not fond of the French,’ said Mrs. Hudd. ‘They cheated the late Mr. Hudd in the matter of a painting many years ago. He was given quite unequivocally to understand that it was by one of the Masters, but it turned out to be a forgery—although they called it a copy. Five pounds is not a sum to throw away lightly. The experience distressed him greatly, and he was still talking of it during his final illness.’
    ‘Goodness,’ said Angela.
    ‘At any rate,’ went on Mrs. Hudd, ‘Greystone Chase is a private house and not open to the public.’
    ‘There were some terrible goings-on there a few years ago,’ said Miss Atkinson. ‘It was quite a scandal, and I don’t believe they ever got over it.’
    ‘Oh? What happened?’ said Angela.
    Miss Atkinson adopted a suitably solemn expression.
    ‘I’m afraid it was all quite dreadful,’ she said. ‘One of the sons of the house killed his young wife.’
    ‘Dear me!’ said Angela.
    ‘Foreigners,’ said Mrs. Hudd, with a shake of the head.
    ‘He was caught, of course,’ said Miss Atkinson. ‘Such a disgrace for the rest of the family to have to live down.’
    Angela was about to question Miss Atkinson further, when Mrs. Hudd sat up and said:
    ‘Oh, it is Colonel Dempster! Good afternoon, colonel!’
    The newcomer to whom she referred was a gentleman of stiff moustache and upright bearing, who had evidently expanded outwards in recent years, for it appeared that some violence had been employed to force the buttons of his tweed suit through the