Snifter of Death
by Chris Karlsen
Series: Bloodstone, #2
Genre: Historical Suspense with Romantic elements
Release Date: April 8, 2017
The summer of 1889 was proving to be a strange one for Detective Inspector Rudyard Bloodstone and his partner.
They had a sexual pervert loose. The man didn’t actually harm women but threatened them at knife point, fondling them, and ultimately stealing their stockings.
Far more serious were the murders of influential men, which appeared random other than they were all killed by arsenic poison. Never had he and his partner had cases with so little workable evidence.
Also, the rivalry between him and his detective nemesis at London’s other police department was intensifying. That nemesis was the boxing champion of their department and looking to challenge Rudyard, who never trained as a boxer.
Besides Rudyard’s pride being at stake, and the pride of his station, his nemesis also had in his possession a photograph of the woman Rudyard cares very much for. The new lady in Rudyard’s life had captured his heart and he’d fight the devil himself to save her reputation.
A glow of light in Ruddy’s peripheral vision caught his attention and he turned. It came from Flower’s dressing room. The star exited and closed the door. She smiled as she walked toward them, wearing a lavender dress of lace-covered silk with a sheer silky material over her shoulders to her throat. She smiled and walked past the short stairs to the stage and over to Will.
“You were here yesterday. You sat there.” She pointed to a table for two in the front row.
Ruddy had never seen his brother at a loss for words. If only a moment could be bronzed in time.
“I’m gobsmacked you remember me,” Will said at last.
“What lady doesn’t remember a fine example of a man in service to her majesty?”
“You flatter me.”
“Are you with the Queen’s Guards here at the palace?” she asked.
“No. I’m just on leave in London. I’m deployed in India.”
Honeysuckle turned to Ruddy. She looked from him back to Will and then to Ruddy again. “You’re brothers?”
“Yes. And he does live here in London,” Will rushed to add.
She peered over her shoulder in a coquettish way that women do. “Is he mute?”
Ruddy hoped Will read his I’m going to kill you look. “No, he is not,” Ruddy jumped in with. “But he does have an irksome brother who blathers on unnecessarily before I can get a word out. I know from your poster outside that you’re the star, Honeysuckle Flowers. I’m Rudyard Bloodstone and the vexing man to your right is my brother Will.”
She gave each a warm smile accompanied by a slight feminine tip of her head. When she smiled and tipped her head Ruddy’s way, she kept her eyes up and on him. If he knew her even a little better, he’d have pulled her behind the curtain and kissed her. He knew a little about heat between a man and a woman and there was heat in those pretty green eyes she’d locked on him.
“May I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“No thank you, detective. Not before the show. But afterward, I’d love to share a bottle of champagne with your brother and you.”
A stunned Ruddy asked, “How did you know I was a detective?”
She put her forefingers to her temples. “Read it in the leaves of my afternoon tea.”
She’d said it with a straight face. Ruddy’s heart sank. The woman was mad as Mr. Carroll’s hatter. Or worse, she was part gypsy. He hated dealing with gypsies and their alleged metaphysical abilities. Whether it was reading tea leaves, or the Tarot, or crystal balls, they were all nothing but tricks to part a hard working person from their money.
Flowers burst into a laugh and then said with a tiny push to his chest, “You should see your face. You believed every word.” She turned to Will. “You did too, didn’t you?”
“In our defense you said it with such a serious face,” Will said, sounding haughtier than their upbringing justified.
“I am an actress.” She turned back to Ruddy. “I saw you and another gentleman this afternoon looking at the theatre posters. You pointed to something and your jacket moved and exposed your shield. I’m not one to delve into fortune telling of any kind.”
“That’s a relief,” Ruddy said and meant it.
“Are you with the City or London Metropolitan?”
“London Metro.”
“My uncle is a constable in Norfolk.”
Another pleasant surprise. His profession caused the demise of his relationship with Allegra the year before. “Oh. Norfolk’s a lovely area to work.”
“There’s the emcee. I’m next,” Honeysuckle said. “I’ve another show in an hour and then I’ll be free to join you gentlemen. I sing new tunes but some old favorites as well. You must sing along with the favorites. I’ll be watching from the stage.” She raised her skirt high enough to scandalously show a shapely ankle and bit of leg as she climbed the stage stairs.
On stage the curtains parted to show a backdrop that was painted to look like a city park with a promenade. Honeysuckle opened with the popular melody, When I Take My Morning Promenade. Members of the chorus joined her on stage, the ladies carried ruffled parasols that they twirled and danced around. The men dressed in morning coats and high hats served mainly as dancing props for the women.
To Ruddy’s delight, twice while she danced she came over with a flounce that flashed those lovely ankles again.
“You were here yesterday. You sat there.” She pointed to a table for two in the front row.
Ruddy had never seen his brother at a loss for words. If only a moment could be bronzed in time.
“I’m gobsmacked you remember me,” Will said at last.
“What lady doesn’t remember a fine example of a man in service to her majesty?”
“You flatter me.”
“Are you with the Queen’s Guards here at the palace?” she asked.
“No. I’m just on leave in London. I’m deployed in India.”
Honeysuckle turned to Ruddy. She looked from him back to Will and then to Ruddy again. “You’re brothers?”
“Yes. And he does live here in London,” Will rushed to add.
She peered over her shoulder in a coquettish way that women do. “Is he mute?”
Ruddy hoped Will read his I’m going to kill you look. “No, he is not,” Ruddy jumped in with. “But he does have an irksome brother who blathers on unnecessarily before I can get a word out. I know from your poster outside that you’re the star, Honeysuckle Flowers. I’m Rudyard Bloodstone and the vexing man to your right is my brother Will.”
She gave each a warm smile accompanied by a slight feminine tip of her head. When she smiled and tipped her head Ruddy’s way, she kept her eyes up and on him. If he knew her even a little better, he’d have pulled her behind the curtain and kissed her. He knew a little about heat between a man and a woman and there was heat in those pretty green eyes she’d locked on him.
“May I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“No thank you, detective. Not before the show. But afterward, I’d love to share a bottle of champagne with your brother and you.”
A stunned Ruddy asked, “How did you know I was a detective?”
She put her forefingers to her temples. “Read it in the leaves of my afternoon tea.”
She’d said it with a straight face. Ruddy’s heart sank. The woman was mad as Mr. Carroll’s hatter. Or worse, she was part gypsy. He hated dealing with gypsies and their alleged metaphysical abilities. Whether it was reading tea leaves, or the Tarot, or crystal balls, they were all nothing but tricks to part a hard working person from their money.
Flowers burst into a laugh and then said with a tiny push to his chest, “You should see your face. You believed every word.” She turned to Will. “You did too, didn’t you?”
“In our defense you said it with such a serious face,” Will said, sounding haughtier than their upbringing justified.
“I am an actress.” She turned back to Ruddy. “I saw you and another gentleman this afternoon looking at the theatre posters. You pointed to something and your jacket moved and exposed your shield. I’m not one to delve into fortune telling of any kind.”
“That’s a relief,” Ruddy said and meant it.
“Are you with the City or London Metropolitan?”
“London Metro.”
“My uncle is a constable in Norfolk.”
Another pleasant surprise. His profession caused the demise of his relationship with Allegra the year before. “Oh. Norfolk’s a lovely area to work.”
“There’s the emcee. I’m next,” Honeysuckle said. “I’ve another show in an hour and then I’ll be free to join you gentlemen. I sing new tunes but some old favorites as well. You must sing along with the favorites. I’ll be watching from the stage.” She raised her skirt high enough to scandalously show a shapely ankle and bit of leg as she climbed the stage stairs.
On stage the curtains parted to show a backdrop that was painted to look like a city park with a promenade. Honeysuckle opened with the popular melody, When I Take My Morning Promenade. Members of the chorus joined her on stage, the ladies carried ruffled parasols that they twirled and danced around. The men dressed in morning coats and high hats served mainly as dancing props for the women.
To Ruddy’s delight, twice while she danced she came over with a flounce that flashed those lovely ankles again.
Book One: Silk
My parents also love traveling, a passion they passed onto me. I wanted to see the places I read about, see the land and monuments from the time periods that fascinated me. I’ve had the good fortune to travel extensively throughout Europe, the Near East, and North Africa.
I am a retired police detective. I spent twenty-five years in law enforcement with two different agencies. My desire to write came in my early teens. After I retired, I decided to pursue that dream. I write three different series. My paranormal romance series is called, Knights in Time. My romantic thriller series is Dangerous Waters. The newest is The Bloodstone Series. Each series has a different setting and some cross time periods, which I find fun to write.
I currently live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband and five wild and crazy rescue dogs.
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