Brighton Belle Read Online Free PDF Page B

look as if she distrusted his motives and felt that somehow she was being cut out of the fun. ‘I see,’ she said petulantly. ‘Well, Manni and I are
going and we won’t be back for a while. We’ll take your car – the Jag.’ She flounced through the door, her sharp thin heels pockmarking the wide wooden boards in her
wake.
    The doctor either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
    ‘Please, sit down, Miss Bevan,’ he said, taking his place behind the desk. ‘I apologise. Among other things Lisabetta is here to help me buy some things for the house. She is
not accustomed to ...’
    ‘Oh, I quite understand. Hungary seems such an exotic place. Have you ever visited?’ Mirabelle continued smoothly.
    Dr Crichton shook his head. ‘No. Never.’
    Mirabelle had seen and heard enough to give her reason to doubt that Lisabetta had been there either. The vowel sounds were entirely wrong. And the girl’s air of jollity didn’t fool
her one bit – there was a dangerous flash of steel behind those pretty eyes.
    ‘I’m sure it has been a trying day,’ she said. ‘I heard of your bereavement last night. In fact, I should pay my respects, shouldn’t I? Out of politeness. If you
have a body lying in wake in the house.’
    ‘That’s quite unnecessary, Miss Bevan. We don’t stand on such old-fashioned customs here, and in any case the casket is closed. It was a difficult birth.’
    ‘The poor lady was another Hungarian, was she not?’
    Dr Crichton nodded curtly. ‘Yes. Very sad. Lisabetta’s sister.’
    ‘Her sister?’ Mirabelle felt the colour draining from her face. An uneasy feeling crept across her heart. Lisabetta could not be bereaved. It was simply impossible. What kind of
person could enforce such gaiety in the face of an unexpected death – two deaths, in fact – her sister and her sister’s stillborn child. Mirabelle realised that far from allaying
her worries, so far her trip to Second Avenue had only made them worse. She looked around the study. The walls were lined with scientific volumes – not, Mirabelle noted, only medical books.
She spotted A History of Trigonometry and several on the subject of physics as well as one elderly volume on the science of alchemy.
    ‘You’re all being dreadfully brave. Her sister helping with the house, too ...’
    ‘She’s spending a fortune.’ The doctor seemed glad to be moving the conversation along. ‘A fortune of my money! Chap needs help of course – antiques and so
forth. It’s almost there. Terribly distressing, what happened, goes without saying. Now ...’ Dr Crichton picked up his stethoscope from a drawer, and leaned forward, getting down to
business. ‘Tell me, Miss Bevan, what seems to be the trouble?’
    Outside in the hallway Lisabetta hesitated. She opened her bag and checked the tiny gun inside.
    ‘Problem?’ a middle-aged man asked as he came downstairs.
    Lisabetta shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. ‘Nothing I can’t handle if I have to. Come along.’
    Manni didn’t doubt it. ‘Well, if you need me ...’
    Lisabetta shook her head. ‘No, I don’t. You have done quite enough this week! It’s funny, Manni. England is so ...’ She searched for the word. ‘... provincial.
Come, I’ve told them to bring round the car.’ She checked the diamond watch on her slender wrist and clicked her patent clutch bag closed with an air of decision.

5
    Curiosity is one of the forms of feminine bravery.
    I t must have taken Dr Crichton’s man a while to bring the car round because Mirabelle left 22 Second Avenue a few minutes later, just in
time to see a racing-green convertible Jaguar pull away from the front of the house. Inside Lisabetta was sitting in the passenger seat with the flounces of her skirt billowing while a middle-aged
man with grey hair perfectly matching his suit took the wheel.
    Mirabelle paused for a moment to digest everything. There were a lot of reasons that someone from Eastern Europe, or for that matter any