Death of a Delft Blue

THE ECHOING STRANGERS

MERLIN’S FURLONG

FAINTLY SPEAKING

WATSON’S CHOICE

TWELVE HORSES AND THE

HANGMAN’S NOOSE

THE TWENTY-THIRD MAN

SPOTTED HEMLOCK

THE MAN WHO GREW TOMATOES

SAY IT WITH FLOWERS

THE NODDING CANARIES

MY BONES WILL KEEP

ADDERS ON THE HEATH

FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 1965 BY LONDON HOUSE & MAXWELL

A DIVISION OF THE BRITISH BOOK CENTRE, INC. 122 EAST 55TH STREET, NEW YORK 22, NEW YORK

Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 65-17413

© copyright 1964 by Gladys Mitchell

Set and printed in Great Britain by Tonbridge Printers Ltd, Peach Hall Works, Tonbridge, Kent, in Times ten on eleven point, on paper made by Henry Bruce at Currie, Midlothian, and bound by James Burn at Esher, Surrey

To

Marjorie K. Avery, o.b.e.

and

Marjorie Beer,

who were kind enough to provide me with the Netherlands setting for this book

Preamble

‘A Fortnight in Holland.’

Title of a book by Leslie Bransby

^ »

According to the guide books, Scheveningen, on the Netherlands side of the North Sea, has developed over the centuries from a mere fishing-village to a popular resort. It boasts excellent hotels, fine beaches, possesses every facility for boating and bathing and can offer all the other forms of amusement which a holiday-maker is likely to require.

Dame Beatrice Lestrange Bradley and her secretary, Laura Gavin, preferred to stay in it rather than in the neighbouring, more dignified but less frivolous city of The Hague, so each morning Dame Beatrice, who was in Holland to attend what her secretary described as ‘a gathering of the vultures’ — in other words, a general conference on higher education — armed herself with her notebooks, her lecture notes, some typed pages of what Laura termed ‘irrelevant answers to improbable questions’ and betook herself to Noordeinde and the historic house in which the conference was to be held. This left Laura in Scheveningen to amuse herself as she pleased for most of the day.

Laura lounged and swam, visited the Municipal Museum and strolled several times along the two-mile esplanade called the Boulevard and also along its higher promenade, the Zeekant. Every afternoon, upon the return of Dame Beatrice, she and her employer took a short walk before returning to their hotel for dinner, and, at table, exchanged the news of the day, Dame Beatrice giving witty, although not unkindly, reports of her fellow-delegates and Laura responding with an account of her own activities.

One morning, after having seen Dame Beatrice off, Laura decided to explore the old part of the town which lay behind the harbour. There were picturesque houses in narrow streets and the harbour itself was a fine and interesting sight, with dozens of vessels, mostly fishing-boats, all moored in neat lines with clear channels between them. It was early in the day, but there were crowds of people on the waterfront, including the usual bevy of Dutch cyclists, and Laura was standing gazing at the scene and enjoying the noise and bustle on the quay, when a girl of about nineteen or twenty approached her.

‘I say, do excuse me for asking, but are you English?’ the girl enquired.

‘Well, actually, I’m a Scot,’ Laura replied. ‘Why? Anything I can do?’