MURDER IN HAMPSTEAD
A classic whodunnit in a contemporary setting
Sabina Manea
Published by
THE BOOK FOLKS
London, 2021
© Sabina Manea
Polite note to the reader
This book is written in British English except where fidelity to other languages or accents is appropriate.
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
List of Characters
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Prologue
Friday, 4th September
(the day of the murder)
The murder took place on a late afternoon in September.
Lucia stumbled in from an errand to find a small party in full swing. The French doors in the drawing room had been flung open, and a table heaving with high tea had been set on the mossy stone paving. Professor Alla Kiseleva held court in a flowing dress. Emilia Poole was in thrall to a sinewy, straight-backed man in his sixties. Adam Corcoran clutched a near-empty glass of champagne, his glassy gaze drifting off while a loud City type brayed on. The expensive-looking wife hovered expectantly, knowing she’d be ignored.
Mrs Byrne, brimming with nervous energy, sauntered over to Lucia. ‘Oh, you’re back, child. I forgot to tell you. The Professor fancied she’d have a gathering – what with the weather being so nice. She has these whims, you see, goes for weeks locked up with Emilia and her books, then decides to invite everyone round.’
It wasn’t unexpected – once hired, tradespeople were generally forgotten about. The housekeeper nudged Lucia and whispered, ‘At least it shows she’s still human, eh?’
The Professor caught Lucia’s eye. ‘Come have some tea and meet everyone.’ They all gathered around, gawping. ‘This is Lucia Steer, our decorator – sorry, interior designer. She’s doing a splendid job – Margaret wanted to know where you got the teal wallpaper in the hallway. My neighbours, Margaret and John Walker.’
The wife was thrilled at being noticed at last. ‘It’s gorgeous. And you’re an interior designer! How lovely! We’re looking to have the house done, aren’t we, Johnny, and what’s better than a personal recommendation, isn’t that what you always say?’
Johnny looked unimpressed. Dealing with the staff was clearly not on his list of domestic duties. He took a step back, as if getting too close might dirty his beautifully cut suit, the pinstripes of which he’d regrettably got wrong – too wide for a barrister. ‘Yes, well. Do you work with anyone else?’
Uncharacteristically, the question took Lucia by surprise. ‘Yes, I have a couple of lads who help out.’
‘You’d need more manpower to tackle our house.’ They were back on familiar territory now.
‘My clients prefer me to a load of boys drinking tea and playing with rollers. There’s plenty of manpower available at the Red Lion down the hill, if that’s what you’re after.’
The tamed barrister grimaced and stared at the sandwiches. The Professor grinned appreciatively. She looked peaky. ‘Let me introduce you to Dr Edmund Glover, my GP.’ She beckoned to the elegant man in Emilia’s company. ‘And you know Emilia, of course. Dr Glover, this is Lucia. Don’t make any jibes at her being a lady decorator unless you want to be eviscerated in public.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of being so tasteless.’ Dr Glover smiled winningly, like a panther weighing up the merits of its prey. ‘I think it’s marvellous to have given up a desk job for something so enjoyably physical.’ He waited to ascertain from her reaction how close to the mark he was.
Lucia returned a blank stare. ‘How’s the book going, Professor?’
The Professor sighed, relieved to be restored into focus. ‘Good days and bad days. Do you know anything about cybernetics?’
‘In the Soviet or the American sense?’
‘Very good. Both, actually; rather, how Soviet research influenced the Americans. Emilia has been invaluable – organising my papers and transcribing my scribbles. Slowly, slowly, we’re making progress.’
‘It’s fascinating,’ Emilia joined in. ‘I didn’t know anything about cybernetics before I started working for the Professor. I just hope my proofreading is up to scratch.’ She manifestly believed it was. Her lightly freckled face was almost bare, and she looked younger than her years. The plain summer dress added weight to the convincing picture of simplicity.
Adam, who had stationed himself within immediate reach of the champagne, trundled towards them. He had been abandoned by the Walkers, by now immersed in a quiet marital spat at the other end of the terrace. ‘Lucia, how nice to see you. Aunt Alla, did I tell you she used to be a lawyer? She could help with selling the house – save us a few pennies and all that.’ The alcohol had loosened his self-control. He looked defiant, like a wilful teenager pushing for a reaction.
The Professor was stony-faced. Dr Glover and Emilia visibly held their breath. Lucia broke the silence, ‘I didn’t know you were looking to sell.’
Adam pressed further, seeing that his target didn’t take the bait. ‘They’ll take it off your hands in a second, Auntie, you know that. A lick of paint and you and Mrs B could be out of here and into a chic little cottage by the Heath.’
‘We’ll see. Early days yet.’ The Professor had regained her composure and gave Adam a
