Uncovering a web of conspiracy that intertwines past and present, can Lady Beatrice and DCI Richard Fitzwilliam catch a killer and unveil the truth of her husband’s death at long last?
BREAKING NEWS Second Senior Police Officer Dies Within a Week
A senior officer from the Protection and Investigations (Royal) Services died unexpectedly yesterday. His death comes hot on the heels of Detective Inspector Ethan Preece (43) from City Police, who died of a suspected heart attack last week. Although he’s not yet been named, the dead officer was a greatly respected public figure, who had served in policing for over thirty years. A PaIRS spokesperson has confirmed that ‘neither men’s death is being treated as suspicious at this time’.
With the senior PaIRS officer dead, so is any hope of reopening the inquiry into Lady Beatrice’s husband’s accident fifteen years ago. Unless, of course, there is something that links the two men to the earl’s fatal car crash?
Can she and Fitzwilliam, along with their friends, work together to unravel the mystery and catch a killer before the truth is buried forever?
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Little-Right-Royal-Investigation- Mystery-ebook/dp/B0C2D19H1D/
https://www.amazon.com/Little-Right-Royal-Investigation-Mystery-ebook/dp/B0C2D19H1D/
I Spy With My Little Die by Helen Golden — Celticlady's Reviews
Intro
Lady Beatrice and her business partner Perry Juke are at Gollingham Palace, the official residence of Lady Beatrice’s uncle, King James, managing the redesign and refurbishment of several guest suites. Meanwhile Detective Chief Inspector Richard Fitzwilliam is in his office in the security wing of the palace contemplating the difficult conversation he had with Bea a few days prior when he’d told her that Chief Superintendent Tim Street was no longer prepared to investigate further into her husband James’s death that happened fifteen years ago. Then he gets a shocking call from his boss…
Extract
In his corner office, Detective Chief Inspector Richard Fitzwilliam gazed out the window at the palace gardens below. He wished he was down there right now instead of stuck here with a mountain of paperwork. His mind meandered off to his conversation he’d had with Lady Beatrice on Friday. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d told her about the breakdown of his marriage. He never really spoke of it to anyone. And yet there he’d been, blurting out that his wife had run off with another man.
He huffed. Lady Beatrice had clearly been slightly shocked at his confession. Had she also thought to herself, I’m not surprised? Maybe. He knew from their clashes in the past that her opinion of him was that he was high-handed and ungrateful for her help. And yet...he’d thought he’d seen a flash of sadness in her eyes. Had that been for him or for herself? He’d had an urge to reach out and take her hand to comfort her, but he couldn’t have done that, of course; it was his job to protect her, not make a grab for her.
He rubbed the back of his head. She looked hurt and lost whenever James’s betrayal with Gill Sterling was mentioned. He wished he could help her find closure, but with Street unwilling to pursue their new leads, it was unlikely he could do any more. Her sad green eyes flashed before him, and he sighed. Should he tackle Street again? Be more insistent about the new information needing investigating? The office phone on his desk beeped, and a button lit up green.
Fitzwilliam shook his head to clear it and returned to the present. He leaned over his desk and grabbed the handset. “Yes, Carol?”
“Chief inspector, I have Superintendent Blake on the phone.” She lowered her voice to an almost whisper. “And he doesn’t sound happy.”
That's just want I need — an unhappy boss. What was it now? Had he or one of his team upset his exacting superior? Or had Lady Beatrice stumbled over a dead body while she was here at Gollingham Palace? He wouldn’t put it past her. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time. She really is a trouble magnet…
He suppressed a sigh. “Thanks, Carol. Please put him through.”
The line clicked, and the deep voice of Superintendent Blake filled Richard’s ears. “Richard, I have some extraordinary news,” Blake said in a sombre tone. “Detective Chief Superintendent Tim Street is dead.”
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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