Read Online Something in the Blood (A Honey Driver Murder Mystery) by Jean G. Goodhind - Free Book Online Page B

Maxted.’ She frowned. ‘It doesn’t sound very Bathonian or even North Somerset.’ She shrugged. ‘But it’s all I have. What I’d really like to know is if an American named Elmer Maxted has contacted anyone about tracing his family in the last few weeks.’
    Face bright with enthusiasm, Mary Jane nodded. ‘I’ll get on to it right away. Now,’ she said, fumbling for a pen in her purse, ‘in your case the best thing I can do is to interview your mother …’
    ‘No. You misunderstand. I told you. It’s not for me.’
    Mary Jane looked surprised then disappointed.
    Honey dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned close. ‘This Mr Elmer Weinstock I mentioned, alias Maxted, has gone missing. He was researching his family tree.’
    ‘You don’t say!’
    ‘Do you think you could help?’
    Mary Jane’s response was diametrically opposed to the Philip Marlowe low-key approach. She looked like a fizzing firecracker about to explode.
    ‘Ye–sss,’ she hissed, the word elongated because she was trying so hard to suppress her excitement. ‘I know just what he would do. First, he would speak to Bob the Job.’
    ‘Bob the Job?’ Odd name, thought Honey, for someone specialising in research of any kind.
    Mary Jane explained. ‘He’s the first port of call in this city if you’re looking to trace your pedigree.’
    ‘Well, well.’
    It never failed to amaze Honey what went on in Bath. There were worlds within worlds and experts on everything from Jane Austen to sex toys for the over-sixties.
    The sound of clattering kitten heels sounded as though they were coming her way. Honey decided it was time to split.
    ‘I have to go now, but I’d appreciate you making enquiries.’
    Mary Jane was scribbling Elmer’s name on the back of the bus timetable. ‘If he’s a serious player, Bob will know all about the guy.’
    ‘I’m sure my daughter would love to hear about your research on the Pilgrims’ Trail.’
    As her mother’s voice came closer, Honey began her dash for the French doors.
    ‘ Well, I really don’t think I’ve got the time just now …’
    A male voice. The professor was stalling – thank God!
    ‘Leave this with me,’ Mary Jane was saying as Honey backed out through the doors and through a herbaceous border.
    The pages of magazines on a table near the door fluttered on the incoming draught.
    Mary got up and shut it. She said something Honey couldn’t hear. She guessed from the movement and shape of her mouth that she was telling her to have a nice day.
    ‘I will,’ she called back, waved and ran.
    It might have been something to do with the fresh air, but suddenly she was hit by an intelligent thought.
    Somewhere in the city was a taxicab that had ferried Elmer Maxted around the city before he’d disappeared.
    Cora had told of a black Ford with the name, ‘Busy Bee Taxi Cab Company’, emblazoned in red on its side. That, she decided, was as good a place as any to start.

Chapter Seven
    Devotees of Jane Austen and all things Regency thronged through Bath’s elegant crescents and leafy squares. Some narrowed their eyes in an effort to blank out the traffic and pretend that Mr Darcy was striding the pavement, resplendent in tails and tight trousers.
    Keener on cameras than books, the Japanese snapped pictures of each other leaning on lampposts or posing outside McDonalds.
    The Australians made for a decent brew in a reasonably priced café or a pub. The Americans did the tours at lightning speed, determined to get as much value as possible from their transatlantic flight.
    This morning those looking over the parapet towards Pulteney Bridge were very subdued. Something had happened that attracted everyone’s curiosity, something that certainly wasn’t on the tourist trail.
    Uniformed police were filtering people around the blue and white ‘incident’ tape fluttering around the steps leading from the road and down on to the towpath.
    The river thundered over the weir throwing up clouds