Free Berried Alive (Manor House Mystery) by Kate Kingsbury

thank you, George, I've just eaten a bowl of porridge. But I do appreciate the offer."
    "Not at all, m'm." George waved a pudgy hand at a vacant chair. "Please have a seat, won't you?"
    Elizabeth sat, pulling her skirt well down over her knees.
    George cleared his throat. "I was just saying to Sid, as how I thought that was your motorcycle making that rack . . . er . . . noise outside. Weren't I, Sid?"
    This last was bellowed for the benefit of George's beleaguered partner, P.C. Sid Goffin, who had apparently been relegated to the back room.
    Sid's voice wafted out from behind the open door."That's right, your ladyship. George was saying what a blasted racket it made."
    "Yes, well, right," George said loudly and hastily. "What can we do for your ladyship this fine morning?"
    "I hope you're not scoffing down them cakes," Sid shouted from the back room. "I don't want to come out at eleven o'clock and find them all gone."
    George's cheeks turned red and he brushed his mouth with the back of his hand. "Take no notice of 'im," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the door. "Never has a civil tongue in his head until he's had his tea and crumpets."
    Sid said something that Elizabeth couldn't catch, which was just as well if George's embarrassed expression was anything to go by.
    Saving the poor man from having to make amends for Sid's insolence, she said quickly, "Actually, George, I stopped by to ask about the doctor who operated on the Adelaides' daughter, Barbara. I—"
    "How did you hear about that then?" George demanded, sounding a little belligerent.
    "Mrs. Adelaide told me." Elizabeth fixed him with a stern look. "I trust the matter is under investigation?"
    George looked hurt. "The inspector is looking into it, yes."
    "Very good." Elizabeth settled back in her chair. "Has he made any headway in the case?"
    "I wouldn't know about that, your ladyship. And even if I did, I—"
    "Yes, I know. You wouldn't be at liberty to discuss it with me. In that case, perhaps you can tell me what you've heard about the recent deaths of the American airmen. Some kind of poisoning, I understand."
    George's expression immediately turned wary. "Poison?"
    "Poison," Elizabeth said firmly. "Four of them died from it. I was sure you'd heard about it."
    George reached for a pencil and began tapping the end of it on the desk. "Well, now, maybe I 'ave and maybe I 'aven't."
    "Do stop being coy with me, George. I don't have time to play games. Do you or do you not know anything about these unfortunate incidents?"
    George scratched his balding pate. "Well, m'm, I heard something, but I don't rightly know what to make of it. Some say it were a mysterious sickness that's going around, some foreign germs what the Yanks brought over from America." George squinted his eyes almost shut. "They got lots of germs over there, m'm. Come from the swamps and the deserts they do."
    "Yes, well, I'm quite sure we have just as many germs here." Elizabeth smoothed the fingers of her gloves. "Actually I heard that the poison came from a plant. Daphne, to be exact."
    George looked puzzled. "Who's Daphne?"
    "It's a plant, George. It grows in people's gardens. It has pretty little flowers and orange berries that can make you very, very sick. The doctors at the base think the Americans may have eaten the berries."
    "Go on! So that's how they died. Silly buggers. Probably got drunk and thought they were cherries or something."
    "Perhaps." Elizabeth paused, then added carefully, "What do you know about the three musketeers?"
    The wary expression returned. "Weren't they some kind of highwaymen in the old days?"
    "Not exactly. But in any case, I wasn't talking about those musketeers. I was talking about the three men whoapparently travel down from London intent on committing crimes against the Americans."
    "What kind of crimes?"
    Elizabeth sighed. "You know very well what I'm talking about George. Damage to the Jeeps, that sort of thing."
    "She's talking about the lads