#excerpt A Dead Herring by Helen Golden
A Dead Herring
by Helen Golden
BREAKING NEWS Urshall United FC Owner Dies at Drew Castle
Details are sketchy at this stage, but it is believed businessman Ben Rhodes (38) was found dead in his bathroom at the king’s Scottish home by his twin brother Max, where the pair were guests at a shooting party hosted by Lord Frederick Astley (39), brother of Lady Beatrice (36). The cause of Mr Rhodes’ death is not known, but he started receiving death threats from football fans after his controversial takeover of the club and had recently employed his own personal security.
How unlucky can a girl get? Is fate playing a cruel trick on her for boorish Detective Chief Inspector Richard Fitzwilliam to be the only person who can get to the snowed-in castle to investigate Ben Rhodes’s death? And with no other external resources available to him, he now needs her, her smart dog, and her best friends’ help to catch the killer. Can they put their issues behind them and work together to find the murderer before the weather improves and the perpetrator is free to leave?
Another page-turning cozy British whodunnit with a hint of humour from author Helen Golden.
Purchase Link – https://books2read.com/u/3GWBZ8
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Intro
Lady Beatrice and her business partner Perry Juke are at Drew Castle, the private Scottish estate of Lady Beatrice’s uncle, King James, to manage the redesign and refurbishment of several family suites. At the same time, Lady Beatrice’s brother Lord Frederick Astley is hosting a shooting party with guests who include the well-known brothers, Max and Ben Rhodes. Ben Rhodes has recently purchased a London football club in a controversial deal, much to the disgust of the fans who fear he will destroy the club. Now he’s been found dead in his bath and it’s clear he’s been murdered. Meanwhile, unbeknown to Lady Beatrice, Detective Chief Inspector Richard Fitzwilliam is staying only a short way away on the estate visiting a friend who was recently injured in the line of duty. When a man looking like a yeti wearing skis appears on the doorstep, Bea is horrified to find out it’s Fitzwilliam…
Extract
Stunned, Lady Beatrice stared at the man before her as he bent down to say hello to Daisy, who was jumping up at him. Brock manoeuvred around her and approached DCI Fitzwilliam. “May I help you with those, sir?” he asked, holding out this hand to take the ski poles from Fitzwilliam.
What on earth is he doing here? He caught her eye, and she looked down at the stone floor. Of all the people who could have been close by, why him? She cursed whatever it was that made the one thing you didn’t want to happen, happen.
Fred appeared at her side and nudged her. “Is that who I think it is under there?” he whispered in her ear. She nodded as her brother gave a low chuckle.
“Thank you,” Fitzwilliam said, handing over the poles. He bent down to unclip the skis from his boots, fending off Daisy’s pink tongue as it tried to make contact with his face.
“Daisy,” Bea barked. “Come here and let the poor man undress.” Daisy stopped and ran back to her mistress. Did I just say undress? She stifled a groan.
Propping up the skis on the side of the portico, he pulled off his mittens, then the balaclava and hat and handed them to the butler. He rubbed his hand over his forehead, then through his short brown hair. “Phew, it was getting hot in there,” he said, lowering his arm.
Fred moved forward, holding out his hand. “Detective Chief Inspector Fitzwilliam, this is an unexpected pleasure. I assume you’re here in an official capacity?”
Unbuttoning his coat with one hand, Fitzwilliam took Fred’s in his other and shook it. “As luck would have it, I was on the estate visiting a friend. They tracked me down, and here I am.”
A friend on the estate? Did he know someone who worked here? She racked her brain, thinking of the staff who lived in the cottages but couldn’t for the life of her think who that could be. Maybe it was someone who had retired here or was ill. Long-serving ex-staff or those who had been injured during their employment sometimes received accommodation on one of the royal family’s estates. But who?
“Well,” said Fred, holding out his arm to lead Fitzwilliam inside. “That’s lucky for us.” He looked at his sister and winked. “Please come inside, chief inspector, and warm up.” Fitzwilliam, who had now undone his ski boots, slipped them off and followed Fred into the foyer.
Daisy leapt forward and trotted after them, leaving Bea remaining where she was, looking out into the snowy landscape. Help! Where were Perry and Simon when she needed them? Her phone vibrated in her hand.
Perry: Sorry, we had to go back. These spiky things are no good. We kept sinking in the snow. Simon says there are some skis we can use. That should be fun! xx
Bea: Hurry! You’ll never guess who just turned up xx
Perry: Tell me. Tell me! xx
Bea: No. Get skiing and come and find out for yourself xx
Author Bio –
Hello. I’m Helen Golden. I write British contemporary cozy whodunnits with a hint of humour. I live in small village in Lincolnshire in the UK with my husband, my step-daughter, her two cats, our two dogs, sometimes my step-son, and our tortoise.
I used to work in senior management, but after my recent job came to a natural end I had the opportunity to follow my dreams and start writing. It’s very early in my life as an author, but so far I’m loving it.
It’s crazy busy at our house, so when I’m writing I retreat to our caravan (an impulsive lockdown purchase) which is mostly parked on our drive. When I really need total peace and quiet, I take it to a lovely site about 15 minutes away and hide there until my family runs out of food or clean clothes
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