Death Is in the Air Read Online Free PDF Page B

those poor parents,” Elizabeth said gently. “I’m sure they’ll want to make arrangements to come down here.”
    George’s expression changed, and Elizabeth felt a pang of sympathy. It had to be so difficult to break such beastly news. She left quickly, before George could come up with a good reason why she couldn’t go out to the Macclesby farm. She very much wanted the chance to talk to Sheila before George added the woman to his official investigation. People tended to talk more freely if they thought they were simply gossiping.
    On the way out there, Elizabeth did her best to curb the feeling of anticipation. A young girl had been brutally murdered, and this was no time to rejoice in the fact that she was hot on the trail of a murderer. Yet she couldn’t contain the feeling of excitement at once more being involved in a murder case.
    Ever since her parents had died two years earlier, she had struggled to take her father’s place in the village.Having lived in London until then, it had taken a great deal of effort to overcome the mistrust of the tenants in Sitting Marsh. She could understand their reluctance to accept her as their new administrator. The vast estate of the Manor House, which included the cottages in the village and the land upon which the High Street and its shops were built, had been overseen by earls for centuries.
    This was the first time the village’s main benefactor and protector had been a woman, and the daughter of a commoner, no less. Although Elizabeth had grown up at the Manor House, she had always been aware of a certain undercurrent whenever she had been in contact with the villagers. From the moment she inherited the Manor House and its holdings, she’d been determined to wipe out that aura of distrust.
    She had worked hard, forming committees and making sure she was accessible to everyone who lived on the estate. She had literally gone from house to house, meeting all her tenants face-to-face, doing her best to answer all of their concerns. Her dedication had paid off, and with the exception of one or two dissidents, she now felt reasonably certain of being accepted and respected by the villagers of Sitting Marsh.
    The two world wars had changed many things, including the place that nobility had once held. No one was more aware of that than Elizabeth. She used it to her advantage, establishing her rightful place in the village without the traditional barriers. Yet her ancestral home stood as a symbol of the old world, and she knew that most inhabitants of Sitting Marsh found comfort in that.
    She had pledged her life to serve her people, but her struggle to maintain the Manor House, thanks to the squandering of her inheritance by her ex-husband, was painful and often thankless. Helping the constabulary to solve a murder gave her something meaningful—a sense of achievement and an excitement in her life that attimes seemed so dreary without her parents.
    Reaching the farmhouse, Elizabeth parked her motorcycle outside of the main gates. No one was about in the yard as she approached the weathered porch. The land girls were already out in the fields, and no doubt Maurice, Sheila Macclesby’s son, would be busy in the cowsheds.
    Elizabeth lifted the lion’s head door knocker and let it fall with a loud rap. It was some time before the door opened and a tousled head peered around it.
    “Good morning!” Elizabeth said brightly. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
    “Oh, my.” The woman clutched the neck of her faded dressing gown. “Lady Elizabeth! Whatever is the time?” She twisted her head to look back into the room. “I had no idea it was so late. Please come in, if you’ll excuse the mess.”
    She pulled the door open wider, and Elizabeth stepped past her into a large living room dominated by a low-beamed ceiling.
    “I do apologize,” Sheila Macclesby said, closing the door again. “I think I’m catching a cold or something. The only time I oversleep is when I’m