H.V. Coombs - A Taste of Death - The gripping new murder mystery that will keep you guessing

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Published by AVON

A Division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2017

Copyright © H.V. Coombs 2017

Cover illustration © Head Design

H.V. Coombs asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © July 2017 ISBN: 9780008235796

Version 2017-11-14

To J.A.W. xx H.V.C

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page A Taste of Death The Old Forge Café H. V. COOMBS A division of HarperCollins Publishers www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright Published by AVON A Division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2017 Copyright © H.V. Coombs 2017 Cover illustration © Head Design H.V. Coombs asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Ebook Edition © July 2017 ISBN: 9780008235796 Version 2017-11-14

Dedication To J.A.W. xx H.V.C

Prologue: Friday, 15 January

Part One

Chapter One: Thursday, 7 January

Chapter Two

Chapter Three: Friday, 8 January

Chapter Four: Friday, 8 January, early afternoon

Chapter Five

Chapter Six: Monday, 11 January, lunch

Chapter Seven: Monday, 11 January, evening

Chapter Eight: Tuesday, 12 January

Chapter Nine: Wednesday, 13 January

Chapter Ten: Thursday, 14 January

Part Two

Chapter Eleven: Friday, 15 January, 9.30 a.m.

Chapter Twelve: Friday, 15 January, 6 a.m.

Chapter Thirteen: Monday, 18 January

Chapter Fourteen: Tuesday, 19 January

Chapter Fifteen: Wednesday, 20 January, early evening

Chapter Sixteen: Thursday, 21 January, afternoon

Chapter Seventeen: Thursday, 21 January, late afternoon

Chapter Eighteen: Friday, 22 January

Chapter Nineteen: Friday, 22 January, lunchtime

Chapter Twenty: Friday, 22 January, afternoon

Chapter Twenty-One: Friday, 22 January, late afternoon

Chapter Twenty-Two: Saturday, 23 January, midday

Chapter Twenty-Three: Saturday, 23 January afternoon

Chapter Twenty-Four: Saturday, 23 January, night

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six: Monday, 25 January

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three: Tuesday, 26 January

Chapter Thirty-Four: Wednesday, 27 January, early morning

Chapter Thirty-Five

Part Three

Chapter Thirty-Six: Wednesday, 27 January, mid-morning

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Wednesday, 27 January, noon

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five: Monday, 1 February

About the Publisher

I heard about the first murder while I was making meringues.

Meringues, so simple, yet so fiddly. They are like a metaphor for leading a good life. On the face of it so easy, yet the potential for disaster is huge. So, there I was in the kitchen, the gigantic Hobart mixer was running, fitted with a balloon whisk attachment. I had separated five egg whites and put them in the large stainless steel mixing bowl with a hundred and sixty grams of icing sugar. Sugar gives a meringue both body and weight. Body and weight. Always crucial, for both people and solidified foam dishes.

There was a pounding on the kitchen door. As insistent as the noise of the mixer, but not as comforting. It wasn’t a polite announcement of someone’s presence, it was an angry statement of intent. I slowed the mixer down, and it quietened itself from a deafening rattle to a comforting whir, then I went to open the door. I think I knew who it was before I even touched the handle.

‘Do come in, DI Slattery,’ I said politely.

The inspector entered with his usual air of haughty disdain. In the short time, only about a week, that I had known him, I had learned that the DI had what is charitably known as a forceful personality. It was typical Slattery that, instead of politely ringing or knocking on the front door, he had let himself into the kitchen yard and used the kitchen one, off limits to the general public. But that’s Slattery for you, given to making statements as well as taking them down. His cold, angry eyes were aggressively trying to find any excuse to arrest me, or at least that’s the impression he gave. I could be wrong. It was certainly the look that he usually wore. Maybe deep down Slattery warmly empathised with me. Somehow I doubted it.

‘Busy, Ben?’ his tone sarcastic.

I shrugged. ‘As you see.’ I turned up the machine, watching the white mixture whirl around until stiff peaks formed. If you overbeat meringues they can weep syrup, creating an unpleasant, sticky soggy mess. In short, a disaster.

No one likes a mess.

I turned the machine off and moved the bowl to a work-surface.

DI Slattery looked at me.

‘Have you been out this morning?’ he asked. I considered the question as I sifted icing sugar and some cornflour into the mix. I think I knew that he wasn’t checking on how my running regime was going.

‘Did you know that undissolved sugar can lead to grittiness and weeping in a meringue?’ was my reply. I started folding the white powder into the very white egg mix. It’s why I was using icing sugar, rather than caster.