The Affair of the Mutilated Mink

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

PROLOGUE

'You murdering fiend!'

She hissed the words. Then she hurled the magazine to the floor and kicked it across the room.

This made her feel a little better, and after a minute she calmed down. She retrieved the magazine and again stared at the face that smiled out at her. There was nothing in the features to indicate the ruthlessness lying behind them. Could she possibly be mistaken? It had all happened a long time ago. And they'd only met once. Nevertheless, she was almost certain—

Almost. It wasn't enough. She had to be sure. And to be sure she had to see this face in the flesh - ideally study it at leisure, converse with its owner, lay little traps . . .

Could she arrange to spend such a time in the company of her suspect - preferably staying under the same roof? It ought to be possible — if not socially, then professionally.

She glanced at the second subject of the photo. What was the relationship between these two? A casual one? Or were they closer than that? Accomplices? Hunter and victim?

She reread the caption beneath the picture. Then she put the magazine safely away. As she did so, her mind was working furiously.

Chapter One

'On Guard!'

George Henry Aylwin Saunders, twelfth Earl of Burford, took up a fencing stance and thrust. The ferrule of his umbrella stopped one inch from his butler's waistcoat. 'Yield, villain!' the Earl exclaimed.

'Certainly, my lord.' Merryweather, the butler, relieved his master of the umbrella and his overcoat. 'An enjoyable cinematographic entertainment, my lord.'

'Tophole. Errol Flynn is terrific. You really ought to go and see it.'

'Thank you, my lord, but I prefer to pass my leisure hours with an improving book.'

'I can't honestly believe you need any improvement, Merry- weather.'

'Thank you, my lord.' Merryweather vanished into the background.

'You know, Daddy, you'll have to stop doing things like that to Merry. I'm sure he feels it's lowering to his dignity.'

Lady Geraldine Saunders crossed the big oak-panelled hall and tucked her arm through her father's. She was petite, vivacious, red-haired, with a tip-tilted nose and deceptively innocent large hazel eyes.

'Don't know what you mean, my dear. Never done anything like that before.'

'Maybe, but last month you were calling him an ornery horse stealer and pretending to beat him to the draw, and before that threatening to squeal to the cops about his bootlegging operation in the cellar.'

'Ah, that was during my cowboy and gangster periods. I've gone off those now.'

'Well, can't you go off swashbucklers, too?'

'No fear! Couldn't if I wanted to just now, anyway. The manager of the Bijou's booked the new Rex Ransom for next week - especially for me. Uncommon civil of him.'

'He's just trying to keep you away from the Odeon.'

They went into the drawing-room. Gerry flopped down on the sofa, while Lord Burford poured himself a whisky and soda.

Gerry said, 'I honestly think the talkies have taken the place of guns in your affection.'

'Oh, no. Basically my collection'll always come first. I admit my enthusiasm was dampened a bit after one of 'em was used to commit a murder. But it'll come back.