Free An Unmentionable Murder by Kate Kingsbury

gift to both of them, but she’d needed a distraction in order to avoid discussing the welfare of certain American pilots.
    â€œShe needs something to cheer her up,” Wally murmured. “Got upset about that mess up at the factory. Nasty business, that.”
    Surprised, Elizabeth exclaimed, “Oh, did she know Mr. Morgan?”
    â€œKnows the wife. Iris.” Wally nodded. “They were good friends at one time, until Clyde started complaining about Iris spending too much time with Prissy. That put the mockers on the friendship, I can tell you.” Wally shook his head. “Never did have much time for the bloke. Bit of a nasty temper, he had. Played darts with him a few times and he didn’t like losing, that he didn’t.”
    â€œNot many people do,” Elizabeth murmured.
    â€œAh, but this chap was dashed bombastic about it. Saw him one night swipe a tankard of beer clear off the counter.” Wally frowned. “Funny thing, I always thought he was left-handed. Always threw a dart with his left hand, he did. Used to put me off, sometimes, watching him. And then when I saw him lying there with that hole in his head, poor blighter, the gun was in his right hand.” Wally shrugged. “I s’pose it makes no difference which hand you use. You’re just as dead, right?”
    Fortunately Priscilla reappeared at that moment, saving Elizabeth from answering.
    Delighted with the gift of tea towels, purchased with much-cherished coupons, Priscilla gushed over them at great length, while Wally nodded and smiled. “We were just talking about Clyde doing himself in,” he said when Priscilla had poured the tea. “I was telling her ladyship as how you were friends with Iris until Clyde put a stop to it.”
    Priscilla’s mouth tightened. “Well, yes, that was unfortunate. I feel sorry for Iris. I must go down there and visit with her.”
    â€œWell, I for one won’t miss him that much.” Wally leaned back in his chair, one hand holding his cup and the other a slice of Priscilla’s nut cake. “Always bragging, he was. Got tired of that story about how he got shot in the eye, then with only one good eye took a Luger off the German who shot him and killed him with it. Kept saying he was going to bring in the gun to show everyone. I thought he was lying about the whole thing.” He shook his head. “Seems ironic, doesn’t it? Ends up killing himself with the blasted thing.”
    â€œIronic, indeed,” Elizabeth murmured.
    Priscilla launched into an account of their honeymoon in the Scottish Highlands, obviously determined to change the subject.
    Elizabeth payed scant attention to her. She was still too busy wondering why a man played a serious game of darts with his left hand, then chose to end his life with his right. Something didn’t quite fit, and it looked very much as if she had yet another mystery on her hands.

CHAPTER 6
    â€œYou’re not really going after this crackpot, are you?” Polly demanded. Sprawled on Sadie’s bed, she watched the housemaid draw her light brown hair into a clump on each side of her head and fasten them with rubber bands. The result always reminded Polly of rabbit ears, but she kept that to herself. Sadie appeared to be thick-skinned, but Polly never knew if she was covering up what she really felt inside.
    Sadie had been bombed out of her house during an air raid in London, but despite Polly’s encouragement, she never wanted to talk about it. Instead she’d make a funny remark, as if the whole thing were a joke. Polly knew it wasn’t, of course. She guessed it was just Sadie’s way of coping with what must have been a terrible experience. Which made her wonder what else Sadie kept inside her.
    â€œIf we don’t find him, no one else will bother,” Sadie declared, giving one of the bunches of hair a flick with her fingers. She turned back from the mirror