A Lesson in Love and Murder (Herringford and Watts Mysteries, #2)

Merinda and Jasper grabbed at each other, staring stupidly for a long moment before he tugged her to her feet and told her to stay exactly where she was. Shocked, she slowly, dumbly nodded.

He set out in the direction of the billowed smoke that sputtered flakes of debris into the surrounding air. As he trailed south looking about him, coughing at the deluge of smoke, his nose was bombarded with the tangible smell of gasoline and rubber.

He could hear sirens as the fire brigade jangled their bells. They had been instructed to be prepared and on standby after the initial trolley explosion. Now they were fast and efficient, blasting water in the direction of the smoke. When it cleared, Jasper could make out the remains of the police automobile he had been in not five minutes before.





Jem looked up from the newspaper at Merinda’s footfall in the front hallway.

“I was just reading this and… ”

She stopped when Merinda came into view, pale with tear-splotched cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

“Merinda!” Jem had rarely seen her friend so shaken. Merinda was actually shuddering. Jem bounded toward her and took her hands, leading her to the settee and sitting beside her.

“Oh, Jem, it was awful. Jones!”

“Jones? That young officer? What happened?”

“In… in a… They blew up a car. Jasper’s car! He had only gotten out of it moments before… they… ”

“The anarchists?” Jem’s grip on Merinda’s hands tightened as she read between the lines. “They blew up a police automobile?”

Merinda nodded. “I was so close to the blast, and then… then… ” Merinda ran her hand over her eyes. “Oh, Jem, I have never seen Jasper like that. He found me and reamed me to high heaven. He told me it was my fault Jones was dead.”

“How can it be your fault?” Jem asked gently.

“He was angry about that interview I gave for Skip’s article, and he had Jones stay late on his shift and… I didn’t get it all because he was so furious. I have never seen him so angry.”

“He was just in shock,” Jem soothed as Merinda tightened her own grip on her hands. “He was scared and in shock. Such an ordeal.”

Before she could console her further, the doorbell chimed and Mrs. Malone admitted Benny Citrone.

Jem watched Merinda spring to her own chair by the mantel, wipe at her eyes, and flounce her hair as Benny was relieved of his coat and hat.

“I heard about that young officer,” he blurted. “I am so very disheartened. I went right to the scene when I heard about it, but by then most of the remains of the car had been cleared and the police were very stringent as to who got close to the damage.”

“Any sign of Jonathan?” Jem asked as Mrs. Malone set the tea service down with a warm smile.

Benny shook his head. “If you knew Jonathan”—he looked from one to the other, his eyes pleading—“you would know that this isn’t like him. Just to end life like this? He couldn’t even take a slingshot to a squirrel in a tree. Not for random sport. I can’t imagine him waiting and wanting to see the needless deaths of so many people.”

“Don’t be daft, Benny,” Merinda said cuttingly.

“Merinda!” Jem was appalled. “My apologies, Benny. Merinda is quite shaken.”

“No! I am seeing clearly,” said Merinda. “Benny, your cousin is an assassin. A young friend of ours was killed today. Officer Jones. It could have been Jasper that his horrible bomb blasted, and I think you are still under the delusion that Jonathan has fallen in with the wrong crowd. This is more than hanging out with the boys who smoke in the dormitories and get detention. This is murder, and it hit a little too close to home tonight.”

“I hoped that maybe there was some mistake. Maybe there was something that didn’t add up and that Jon… ” He couldn’t finish his cousin’s name. He rose slowly. “I came to let you know I had attended the scene and could find nothing of Jonathan there. I suppose that makes me more hopeful than before. There is a slight chance that all of my assumptions are incorrect and he is not a part of tonight’s devastation.” With nothing left to say, he took his leave.

The next time the doorbell chimed, it was Jasper. Jem’s heart broke at his mournful, white pallor and soot-stained face and hands. She dragged him into the sitting room.

“Jasper, I am so awfully sorry.”

Jem noticed that Jasper had trouble looking at Merinda, who was studying the empty hearth with consternation across her face.

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