Read Online Aunt Dimity and the Deep Blue Sea by Nancy Atherton - Free Book Online

the bed’s head had been squared off to form a compact but well-equipped modern bathroom with a deep tub and a separate, glass-walled shower stall. A small mahogany bureau had been retrofitted with a basin and taps to serve as the sink, and the toilet was in its own half-walled space beside it. My toiletries had been stowed in the bureau.
    I emerged from the bathroom to find my bodyguard waiting for me in the bedroom.
    “It’s lovely . . .” I began, but my maternal autopilot had clicked into gear. “But what if there’s a fire? We won’t be able to use the elevator, will we?”
    “Sir Percy left the tower’s original staircase in place.” Damian laid his hand on the ornate gold frame of the full-length mirror. “The mirror’s hinged, like a door. Pull it away from the wall and you’ll see the staircase.You’ll find the same arrangement in the nursery.The staircase leads to a ground-floor exit. If you open the door, you’ll set off alarms throughout the castle, so please use it only when necessary.”
    I ran a hand along the mirror’s frame. “Does the alarm go off if someone tries to open the door from the staircase?”
    “Of course,” said Damian. “The entire castle’s wired.”
    “Why?” I said, taken aback. “Doesn’t Percy trust the islanders?”
    “He trusts them as much as he trusts anyone,” said Damian. “Sir Percy believes, as I do, that human nature is frail and that it’s far easier to prevent a crime than to solve one.”
    I surveyed the bedroom, then looked back at Damian, smiling sheepishly. “I feel kind of guilty, enjoying so much comfort while you’re camped out on a cot.”
    “You needn’t,” he said. “I’ve had to make do with far less. I’ll leave you to freshen up, shall I?” He nodded briefly and retreated to the sitting room.
    When he was out of sight, I took Aunt Dimity’s journal from my carry-on bag, went into the bathroom, and closed the door.
    “Dimity?” I said in an undertone. “You’re not going to believe where we are.”
    The Tower of London? The fine, old-fashioned copperplate looped and curled sedately across the journal’s blank page. I’ve heard that it has a fairly competent security system.
    “Close but no cigar,” I said. “Sir Percy Pelham’s flown us to a castle on an island forty miles off the west coast of Scotland. Pretty cool, huh?”
    Bone-chilling, when the north wind blows. Still, Sir Percy has outdone himself. It’s helpful to have friends with handy hideaways. Are you whispering because there’s a chance you might be overheard?
    “My bodyguard’s in the next room,” I whispered.
    Bodyguard? Another of Sir Percy’s clever ideas, I presume. He really is a most useful man.
    “Security is our watchword,” I said, echoing Mrs. Gammidge. “I can’t talk now, because I have to see the nursery, go down to lunch, and tour the castle, but I’ll bring you up to date this evening.”
    A castle tour? What fun! I look forward to hearing every detail.
    I closed the journal and, after some deliberation, deposited it in the drawer in my bedside table. Then I pulled Reginald from the carry-on bag, smoothed his somewhat rumpled pink flannel ears, and placed him atop the lacy pillows.
    “Nice digs, huh, Reg?” I murmured, and his black button eyes seemed to twinkle with approval. After a quick wash and brush-up, I hastened into the sitting room, but Damian had elected to wait for me on the balcony. I pulled open the heavy glass door and raised my voice, to be heard over the rush of the wind.
    “I’m shocked, Damian,” I said. “I thought the balcony door would be welded shut.”
    “There’s no need,” he said. “Come and see.”

Six
    D amian beckoned to me to join him. I crossed to the waist-high stone parapet that served as a balustrade, peered downward, and felt my legs turn to jelly.
    There was nothing between me and a sandy beach riddled with vicious rocks but a few hundred feet of thin air and six inches of balcony