Free Manor House 03 - For Whom Death Tolls by Kate Kingsbury Page A

much fighting over the women with him. He was just a nasty piece of work, that's all. Though I do believe it was a girl what started his last fight, funny enough." He slid a wary glance at Elizabeth, who interpreted the reason right away.
    "It's all right, Alfie. I know Sam was trying to protect Polly. She told me."
    "Oh, well, that's all right, then." Alfie hung the tankard on a hook above his head. "I wouldn't want Polly to think I was the one what spilled the beans. She's got a lot of spirit, that girl. And a temper to match, so I've heard."
    Elizabeth wondered if Alfie knew that Polly was only fifteen. It seemed a little late to worry about that now, especially since her sixteenth birthday was just a few weeks away, in which case she would be legally allowed to drink in the pub. "Well, I must be going," she said, sliding off her stool. "If you should hear anything more about Kenny that you think might be useful, I'd appreciate it if you would give me a ring at the house."
    Alfie nodded. "Will do, your ladyship. Though I reckon them American investigators know a lot more than we do. Maybe you should ask them."
    "I don't think they are likely to tell me anything," Elizabeth said with a smile. "Thank you so much for the excellent sherry, Alfie."
    "My pleasure, m'm. Come again soon."
    She slipped out of the door, thankful to breathe the clean, fresh air from the ocean. The smoke inside the pub was thick enough to choke her, and irritated her throat. Thank goodness she had never been tempted totry a cigarette. Neither Violet nor Martin had ever smoked, though her father had enjoyed a pipe now and then. Since he'd been gone, the library and study had smelled considerably fresher, though Elizabeth had often detected the smell of tobacco in the great hall, even before the Americans moved in.
    Perhaps Polly had taken up the habit, or maybe the ghost Martin was always talking about smoked a pipe. The thought made Elizabeth uncomfortable. She didn't, for one minute, believe that Martin actually saw the ghost of her father walking the great hall, as he'd claimed so often, but there had been a time or two when she had felt an intense chill, even a strange presence up there that she'd found impossible to explain.
    Roaring up the hill on her motorcycle toward the Manor House, she chided herself for her fanciful thoughts. She was allowing Martin's ramblings to influence her, she decided. Of course it was chilly in the great hall. It was cold everywhere in the house these days. The kitchen was the only cozy place in the entire building.
    She could put it off no longer. The day after tomorrow, she would tackle the chimneys and get them swept. That having been decided, she sailed up the long, winding, tree-lined driveway to the mansion, wondering what illicit nourishment could possibly be waiting for her in Violet's well-stocked kitchen.
    As usual, Martin took forever to respond after she'd tugged on the bellpull. Finally the solid oak door swung inward on its heavy iron hinges, as if pulled by an invisible hand. Peering into the dark hallway, Elizabeth said tentatively, "Martin?"
    His muffled voice came from behind the door. "One moment, madam. I can't find my glasses."
    "They are probably on your head," Elizabeth said, as she stepped inside. "That's where they usually are when you can't find them." Not that he needed them, since henever looked through them, anyway. She'd wasted her breath too many times reminding him of that fact.
    "Bless my soul, indeed they are." The door began to close while Martin clung to the handle and shuffled to keep up with it. "I'm very glad you are home, madam. There has been all sorts of trouble since you left."
    "Trouble?" Elizabeth unpinned her hat and handed it to him. "What kind of trouble?"
    Martin stood looking at the hat as if he'd never seen one before.
    Sighing, she took it from him and hung it on the hall stand. "Perhaps I'd better ask Violet." A sudden thought struck her and she looked at Martin in