The Marsh Madness
Praise for the national bestselling Book Collector Mysteries
The Wolfe Widow
“The books continue to delight with sharp humor, quick-witted characters, a tough but vulnerable heroine, and celebration of the classic mystery genre.”
—Kings River Life Magazine
“Victoria Abbott once again thrills readers with humor, plenty of sleuthing and some very eccentric characters. A great addition to the series!”
—Debbie’s Book Bag
“If you haven’t discovered this series yet and love cozy mysteries with a book theme, I highly encourage you to do so. I haven’t read a book in this series yet that wasn’t fun and a thrill ride.”
—Girl Lost in a Book
“I was delighted by the surprising and satisfying conclusion. Readers who read the prior two books in the series won’t be disappointed, and fans of Erika Chase, Ellery Adams, or Rex Stout will want to put The Wolfe Widow on this fall’s reading list.”
—Smitten by Books
The Sayers Swindle
“The Sayers Swindle has everything you’re looking for in a fantastic mystery—there was a great mystery that kept me guessing. Victoria Abbott swung a great twist that I never saw coming . . . I can’t wait to see what golden-age author will be featured in the next novel.”
—Cozy Mystery Book Reviews
“If you are a book lover of any kind, you will love this series. The Sayers Swindle is well thought-out and executed. The authors don’t leave anything to chance, they provide a great whodunit, and some really good humor. This is one you definitely want to pick up.”
—Debbie’s Book Bag
“Another fun romp . . . Filled with black humor in the midst of tragedy.”
—Lesa’s Book Critiques
The Christie Curse
“Deftly plotted, with amusing one-liners, murder and a dash of mayhem. There’s a cast of characters who’d be welcome on any Christie set.”
—Toronto Star
“With a full inventory of suspects, a courageous heroine and a tribute to a famous writer of whodunits, The Christie Curse will tempt her legion of devotees. Even mystery lovers who have never read Christie—if any exist—will find a pleasing puzzle in Abbott’s opener.”
—Richmond Times-Dispatch
“The mystery was first class, the plotting flawless.”
—Cozy Mystery Book Reviews
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Victoria Abbott
THE CHRISTIE CURSE
THE SAYERS SWINDLE
THE WOLFE WIDOW
THE MARSH MADNESS
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014
THE MARSH MADNESS
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2015 by Penguin Group (USA) LLC.
Excerpt from The Hammett Hex by Victoria Abbott copyright © 2016 by Victoria Abbott
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME design are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
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eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-19130-3
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / September 2015
Cover illustration by Tony Mauro.
Cover design by Rita Frangie.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
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This book is dedicated to Linda Toledi Arno, whose big heart and many years of magical meals will live on in our memories.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
We are particularly indebted to Dame Ngaio Marsh for her body of work. Her wit and insights, descriptions, settings and theatricality continue to entertain. You still need good luck figuring out “whodunnit.”
We must thank Nancy Reid—a generous good friend, and committed mystery reader—for the gift of twenty-nine of the thirty-two Ngaio Marsh novels, allowing for many pleasant afternoons of relaxed reading—oops, we mean research—in the construction of The Marsh Madness.
We’d also like to give a nod to Jeff and Donna Coopman of The Usual Suspects and Peter Sellers of Sellers and Newel for help, information, hard-to-find volumes and a few laughs on the way.
Thanks to Larraine Gorman for her generous support of Ottawa Therapy Dogs. We’re glad Larraine has joined Jordan’s friends here between the covers. She makes a great addition to the Harrison Falls community.
Along the way, we learned a lot about the buzz and excitement of community theater from our good friend Judy Beltzner and the Isle in the River Theatre Company.
No doubt if you sat down with any of our family members, they might have a tale of woe about the ups and downs of having mystery writers in the fold, what with plot issues, deadlines and all that goes with the territory. Naturally, we’re grateful, especially to Giulio, who keeps the boat afloat no matter how stormy the sea. Irma Toledi Maffini and Linda Toledi Arno have laid the groundwork for Signora Panetone with their life-long wizardry in the kitchen. Peachy the Pug provides much entertainment as our real-life Walter.
We appreciate the fellowship of our friends at the Cozy Chicks Blog and Mystery Lovers Kitchen. Please join us regularly at www.cozychicksblog.com and www.mysteryloverskitchen.com to stay in touch with us in between books.
We owe special thanks to our wonderful friend and colleague Linda Wiken, aka Erika Chase, for her valuable and skilled insights into our manuscript and to John Merchant for turning his eagle eye to the pages, yet again.
Dustin Ryan deserves appreciation for his support, general cheerleading and willingness to order pizza in times of need. Thanks also to the delightful ladies of Mansfield’s Shoes, Kyra, Marion, Linda, Charley and the incomparable Miss Vicky. You put us in good shoes and even better moods.
We’d be sunk without the support of our long-suffering and big-hearted editor Tom Colgan and the ever-cheerful Amanda Ng. We know we’re lucky. We also know that our agent, Kim Lionetti, of BookEnds, always has our backs. We appreciate everything you do, Kim.
To our many readers: Thanks so much for getting in touch, for reading and enjoying the books, for getting the jokes, for spreading the word and even for asking why the next one won’t be for a year. We’re on the case!
CONTENTS
Praise for the national bestselling Book Collector Mysteries
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Victoria Abbott
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Cast of Characters
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER
FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Recipes
A preview of The Hammett Hex
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Jordan Kelly Bingham—assistant to wealthy book collector Vera Van Alst
Vera Van Alst—a reclusive bibliophile and collector
Chadwick Kauffman—heir to the Kauffman fortune and owner of the Country Club and Spa
Lisa Troy—his personal assistant
Lisa Hatton—office administrator at the Country Club and Spa
Miranda Schneider—receptionist at the Country Club and Spa
Thomas—a butler
Tyler “Smiley” Dekker—police officer, Harrison Falls Police
Sammy Vincovic—pricey but effective barracuda lawyer
Kevin Kelly (Uncle Kev)—handyman and groundskeeper at Van Alst House, among other things
Signora Fiammetta Panetone—cook and housekeeper at Van Alst House
Michael Kelly (Uncle Mick)—independent “entrepreneur”
Lucky Kelly (Uncle Lucky)—another independent “entrepreneur”
Cherie—Uncle Kev’s special friend
Karen Smith—Jordan’s friend and Uncle Lucky’s new wife
Lance DeWitt—Harrison Falls’s hottest reference librarian and Jordan’s friend
Tiffany (Tiff) Tibeault—Jordan’s usually absent best friend
Poppy Lockwood-Jones—artist friend of Lance’s
Shelby Church—an actress
Detective Drea Castellano—new lead detective in Harrison Falls
Detective Rob Stoddard—her partner
Larraine Gorman—former actress, now teacher
Doug Gorman—her husband
Lucas Warden—an actor
Braydon—young employee at the Country Club and Spa
Mysterious dark-haired man
Various actors hamming it up
CHAPTER ONE
BE CAREFUL WHAT you wish for, as they say. Whoever “they” are, they’ve also been known to mutter that the heart wants what it wants. I was desperate to visit Summerlea. That’s what my heart wanted.
Wanted it bad.
When the first call came, I wondered if it was a mistake. We had an invitation to a very special luncheon at Summerlea, a famous and usually inaccessible grand summer estate that was nothing if not worthy of daydreams. This chance to peek inside a robber baron’s extravagant country home would be a treat. And it would be a first for me aside from seeing it in photo spreads in Elle Decor and Vanity Fair. I was revved up about the invitation to the traditional getaway of the Kauffman family. The family was down to the last member: Chadwick Kauffman, heir to whatever was left. Even if the Kauffman name didn’t conjure up what it once had, it still screamed A-list in our part of the world. I was way beyond intrigued, imagining the treasures, art, books and antiquities. I hoped I’d manage to snoop around.
Full disclosure: The invitation was to Vera Van Alst, the curmudgeonly book collector and allegedly wealthy recluse I work for. I had merely handled the details with Chadwick Kauffman’s staff.
Although Vera wouldn’t admit this, an invitation of any sort was very good news. She continued to be the most hated woman in Harrison Falls, New York, and surrounding communities, although you’d think that people would be getting over that now. It definitely limited our collective social life.
Now Vera was invited to inspect and purchase a collection of Ngaio Marsh very fine first editions. I’d be there to assist her, while perusing and drooling over yet unknown items. I launched into my Web research immediately after the first call and learned that Summerlea was a massive and rambling building with groomed lawns that sloped down to a sparkling lake. This would be the kind of country home full of family retainers—and monograms on the ornate silverware. Would the Kennedys stop by? Would we have champagne? Probably not at noon. I wasn’t really clear on the rules for that. Did I need a petticoat? I almost hoped so.
The deckle-edged invitation came in the third week of March. We were summoned for the beginning of April, the first slot that Chadwick Kauffman would have time for us. So there’d be no strawberries in the gardens and no stroll on manicured lawns through the leafy grounds. Not here in upstate New York anyway.
The big question: What to wear?
I’d popped over to Betty’s Boutique, my favorite funky vintage shop in Harrison Falls, and scored a raspberry wool day dress, a perfectly preserved prize from nineteen sixty-three. That was one good reason to enjoy spring’s slow arrival. Jackie O would have worn this little number with white gloves. I might not be able to resist wearing a pair. There weren’t a lot of opportunities to sport those.
Summerlea was getting closer. I pictured the new spring grass, peppered with early blooming crocus.
Only two more sleeps to go.
I was interrupted in my happy thoughts by Vera, who rolled her wheelchair into our own grand foyer looking even grumpier than usual. Good Cat and Bad Cat (not their real names), her identical Siamese, sidled along beside her. I kept clear of Bad Cat, although it was always hard to know which one that was.
“Are you excited?” I chirped.
Vera had a voice like crunching gravel. “Miss Bingham, I expect that by now you would be aware that I do not get excited. And is it really necessary for you to sound quite so much like a budgie?”
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
I had been fully aware that Vera didn’t get excited, but it had slipped my mind that no one else was supposed to either. I made a mental note never to chirp again. I lowered my voice a half octave. I also moved away from Bad Cat’s outstretched claws and said, “But Summerlea is historic. It is magnificent. It’s—”
She kept rolling, barreling down the endless corridors of Van Alst House, past the ballroom and the portrait gallery festooned with ugly oils of her relatives. Have I mentioned that all the Van Alsts seemed to have suffered from serious constipation and bad teeth? I always try to avert my eyes, as the overflow relatives are displayed all along that hallway. You can’t miss them no matter how hard you try.
Vera muttered, “I have my own magnificent historic home, Miss Bingham. I do not have to seek others like an overeager tourist.”
Maybe I won’t wear the gloves, I decided, breaking into a canter to keep pace with her.
“Of course, Van Alst House is wonderful, Vera. I love it here. But you’ve been cooped up for months, if you don’t count the Thanksgiving event and Uncle Lucky’s wedding and . . .”
I decided not to mention the various murders that had disrupted Vera’s stay-at-home policy. “And Summerlea has quite a history too. They say that FDR and—”
The wheelchair stopped abruptly. “My grandfather entertained governors and visiting royalty here in Van Alst House. We have our own history. I don’t need to leave here to feel part of that.” Vera pivoted abruptly and headed into the study, one of my favorite rooms. I hustled after her.
True enough. Van Alst House had a rich past. But Summerlea had welcomed presidents and world leaders, society’s finest and Hollywood legends. Where Van Alst House had been built from the profits of a shoe factory, Summerlea was made of steel money and rail money and manufacturing money. The Kauffman heritage was more like a collaboration of robber barons on steroids. Never mind that the Kauffman family had dwindled and shrunk in influence over the years. Summerlea remained.
I knew I was being ridiculous. But I loved the whole idea. Was it a Cinderella thing? I was, after all, the motherless girl who grew up in the rooms over her uncle’s “antique” shop. I would have been better adding the cash for that raspberry wool dress to the savings that would one day fund my return to grad school. Never mind. Summerlea would be so much fun. And really, it wasn’t like anything could go wrong.
Speaking of wrong, Vera had continued sputtering.
I said, “Of course you don’t need to leave here. I couldn’t agree more. However, you have been chosen and invited to another wonderful place and given first dibs at one of the finest Ngaio Marsh collections in the world. At a very reasonable price, may I add. I’ve done my homework on this one. This is a very rare collection.”
We never admit out loud that money is a factor for Vera, but it is. Anyone with a sharp eye would notice that there is less sterling silver every year and that several key antiques are now making someone else happy. Sometimes I worried that the Aubusson rugs would vanish next.
Vera couldn’t ever simply agree. It’s not in her. “Humph. We need to knock back that dollar figure a bit. And cash only? Who ever heard of that? Maybe this Chadwick has squandered what’s left of the family fortune.”
I couldn’t let Vera bring me down. “I got the impression the price was firm. Anyway, you love Ngaio Marsh. You’ve been trying to upgrade your Marsh collection as long as I’ve been here. You know how hard they are to find, especially those early ones.”
“Be that as it may, what kind of man only collects one author?”
I shrugged. What did I know about the late Mr. Kauffman and his collecting habits? “I don’t know why he collected only the one author. It’s working for us though. We’ll be lucky to get these books. All thirty-two in fine condition. It could take years to locate the same quality any other way. Count your blessings. If they’d been part of a bigger collection, the whole shebang might have been sold off. It’s to our advantage that this was it.”
Vera sneered. “Still can’t imagine it.”