Mydworth Mysteries - City Heat E-Book

Matthew Costello

• Herausgeber: Bastei Entertainment
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: A Cosy Historical Mystery Series
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 165

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

From the authors of the best-selling series CHERRINGHAM

Kat brings Harry across the Atlantic to New York for a planned whirlwind time in her home town - complete with a lavish suite at the Plaza. But when Teddy Crowther - grandson of a wealthy City magnate - is snatched by the mob, the pair is asked to help. As Prohibition New York swelters in a heatwave, the Mortimers soon find themselves playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse, not just with the kidnappers, but also the rest of the Crowther family, all of whom have everything to gain - and maybe lose - if Teddy is found...

Co-authors Neil Richards (based in the UK) and Matthew Costello (based in the US), have been writing together since the mid-90s, creating innovative content and working on major projects for the BBC, Disney Channel, Sony, ABC, Eidos, and Nintendo to name but a few. Their transatlantic collaboration has underpinned scores of TV drama scripts, computer games, radio shows, and the best-selling mystery series Cherringham. Their latest series project is called Mydworth Mysteries.

Leseprobe

Contents

Cover

Mydworth Mysteries

About the Book

Main Characters

The Authors

Title

1. A Night Out in the Village

2. New York, New York!

3. The Chairman of the Board

4. Meet the Family

5. The Call

6. The Drop

7. Bubbly and Plans

8. Sunday in New York

9. Family Matters

10. A Quiet Chat with Joseph

11. Meet the Reillys

12. Lunch at Ronaldo’s

13. Waiting...

14. A Call and a Clue

15. Coney Island

16. Deep in Coney

17. No Way Out

18. Home Run

Next Episode

Copyright

Mydworth Mysteries

Mydworth Mysteries is a series of self-contained novella-length mysteries, published in English and German. The stories are currently available as e-books and will soon be available as audiobooks in both languages.

About the Book

Kat brings Harry across the Atlantic to New York for a planned whirlwind time in her home town – complete with a lavish suite at the Plaza. But when Teddy Crowther – grandson of a wealthy City magnate – is snatched by the mob, the pair is asked to help. As Prohibition New York swelters in a heatwave, the Mortimers soon find themselves playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse, not just with the kidnappers, but also the rest of the Crowther family, all of whom have everything to gain – and maybe lose – if Teddy is found...

Main Characters

Sir Harry Mortimer, 30 – Born into a wealthy English aristocratic family, Harry is smart, funny and adventurous. Ten years in secret government service around the world has given him the perfect training to solve crimes; and though his title allows him access to the highest levels of English society, he’s just as much at home sipping a warm beer in the garden of a Sussex pub with his girl from the wrong side of the tracks – Kat Reilly.

Kat Reilly –Lady Mortimer, 29 – Kat grew up in the Bronx, right on Broadway. Her mother passed away when she was only eleven and she then helped her father run his small local bar The Lucky Shamrock. But Kat felt the call to adventure and excitement, first as a nurse on the battlefields of France, then working a series of jobs back in New York. After finishing college, she was recruited by the State Department, where she learned skills that would more than make her a match for the dashing Harry. To some, theirs is an unlikely pairing, but to those who know them both well, it’s nothing short of perfect.

The Authors

Matthew Costello (US-based) is the author of many successful novels published around the globe, including Vacation (2011, in development for film), Home (2014) and Beneath Still Waters (1989), which was adapted by Lionsgate as a major motion picture. He has written for The Disney Channel, BBC, SyFy and has also designed dozens of bestselling games including the critically acclaimed The 7th Guest, Doom 3, Rage, Pirates of the Caribbean, and, with Neil Richards, Planet of the Apes: Last Frontier.

Neil Richards (based in the UK) has worked as a producer and writer in TV and film, creating scripts for BBC, Disney, and Channel 4, and earning numerous Bafta nominations along the way. He’s also written script and story for over 30 video games including The Da Vinci Code and Planet of the Apes, and consults around the world on digital storytelling.

MATTHEW COSTELLONEIL RICHARDS

City Heat

1. A Night Out in the Village

Teddy Crowther tossed back the dregs of his Old Fashioned, slammed the glass down on the table and gazed out across the crowded bar.

Chumley’s. A speakeasy and – for Teddy – the closest place to heaven on earth.

Tonight, the place was heaving – every table packed.

The small band in the corner was smashing the hell out of an Irving Berlin number, and what served as a dance floor was so crammed with gyrating bodies it looked like if one fell they’d all go.

The bar, meanwhile, was just a blur of waving arms, white-aproned barmen sweating in the heat, sliding glasses, martini shakers, bottles of rye...

And Teddy thought, Word is there’s more than twenty thousand speakeasies in New York. If they’re all like this at 3am on a Wednesday night, who the hell’s keeping the city running?

He looked around for Zoe. Gorgeous, crop-haired, red-lipped, long-legged Zoe, in that short shimmering green silk dress that, well, kinda took your breath away.

Yep, and there she was – as usual – bang in the centre of the crowd, the music pounding in this cramped subterranean space, the eager lounge lizards, always with a snappy line, each one thinking that – just maybe –Zoe was just another Dumb Dora.

A pushover.

Fat chance, fellas, thought Teddy, smiling. Because he knew Zoe – one smart cookie too – only had eyes for him, just like for him she was the only gal in town.

Like she was mind reading – right now! – she looked across to his table, gave him a wave, mouthed a kiss with those perfect bow-shaped lips.

He held up her empty glass and made a gesture – fancy another?

But instead of nodding, as he expected, she slipped away from the dance floor, came right over and flopped onto his lap.

“Sweetie-pie, it’s late,” she said, after she’d given him a long, very long, kiss.

“Still feels early to me,” said Teddy. “Hey! Some of the gang are heading uptown. Word is it’s all happening at the Pincheon! Night’s young! Let’s party on!”

“Oh, don’t tempt me, baby,” said Zoe, touching his lips with her finger then giving him another kiss, her scent divine. “But you know I can’t stay out and play tonight.”

Then Teddy remembered. Zoe had a casting at 9am sharp for a big new Broadway show.

“Your re-call!” he said. “Sorry – I completely forgot! How can you forgive me! I’m an idiot!”

“No, not an idiot,” said Zoe. “You’re my precious ‘Teddy’ bear. My spangly shining knight.”

He laughed and kissed her again. Then he put his arms around her waist and lifted her up onto her feet, and stood.

“Exactly! And this shining knight’s taking you home for your beauty sleep – right now,” he said.

“Oh, think I might need more than a little beauty sleep,” said Zoe, coyly into his ear, her voice soft, teasing, “that is, if I’m going to really impress tomorrow.”

“Well okay then – what are we waiting for?” said Teddy, and arm in arm they headed for the stairs that led up and out of the bar.

*

Out on Bedford Street, the nondescript, unmarked door to Chumley’s shut tight behind them, Teddy could barely hear the sound of the band deep below the sidewalk.

He waited while Zoe leaned against a rail to put her heels back on.

“As you were saying... my place or yours?” he said, though he knew the answer.

Zoe’s rooms – quaint but little more than a lodging house.

Whereas his own apartment, courtesy of Daddy, not only had a roof you could sit out on to catch a breeze, but even that rare luxury – air conditioning.

The heat – even this late – unrelenting.

A brutally steamy New York summer night.

Soon to get, for Teddy and Zoe, hopefully... even steamier.

“Your place, silly,” said Zoe, stepping over. “Hope you remembered to fill your icebox. I want ice! Lots of it! And not just in the drinks!”

She giggled, then slipped her arm through his and together they walked up Bedford, heading for 9th Avenue and then home.

As they walked, her head resting on his shoulder, they passed the occasional late-night souls, sitting out on their stoops, cigarettes glowing, conversations soft, lingering outside – the best they could do to cool down.

But otherwise, Greenwich Village was deserted, most everyone trying to sleep even if the heat of the day had dropped only a couple of degrees.

Teddy could see windows wide open all along the dark streets, people desperate to suck the cooler night air into stifling apartments. Fans perched on the windowsills, doing their best. This last week had been a real sizzler, kids across the city playing in the hydrants, the ice trucks working non-stop.

And no let-up to the heatwave in sight.

“You happy?” he said, his head nuzzled in Zoe’s hair.

“Mmm,” she said. “Swell, Teddy Bear. Just swell.”

He smiled to himself, trying to stop his mind wandering to thoughts of the future: college, working for Daddy – and then the even darker thoughts – debts, loans, money coming in, money owed...

A lot of questions – and not an answer in sight.

For instance – how he was going to deal with this morning’s letter from the bank telling him he really must put his finances in order by the end of the month – or else?

Or what were the bookies going to do when they realised he’d, um, slightly over-reached himself at the track on Saturday? Oh – and the tables the other night? Ouch.

When those loans from the sharks come due, you better have the money – or else.

No. Those kinds of thoughts must be reserved for daytime.

Not for nights with Zoe.

“Nearly home,” he said, as they crossed Hudson, the streets still quiet, though now with lines of cars parked on either side, people starting to spill out of other speakeasies, the night – for most – finally ending.

They turned into his own street, his apartment building at the far end. Ahead he saw a couple of guys on the sidewalk, lounging against a sedan, chatting, voices low, friends coming home from a good night out, maybe.

As Teddy and Zoe neared them, the two men stepped to one side of the sidewalk to let them pass.

“Nice evening,” said Teddy as he ushered Zoe through the gap left by the men; not concerned, just being good mannered.

“Sure is,” said one of the men. Then just as they were past, the other man held up a cigarette and said: “Hey – you got a light, pal?”

Teddy stopped, turned. “Sure,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his lighter.

The man took a step closer, put the cigarette in his mouth. Teddy gave his lighter a strike, and in the flame saw the man’s face more clearly.

A scar on one cheek. The eyes hard. Like they were thinking about something. And it wasn’t about having a smoke.

Cold eyes.

And suddenly Teddy – stopping – felt he had made a very, very bad mistake.

A jolt of fear ran through his blood – made his heart race – and he started to turn, to be closer to Zoe, to step back, away from these two men who no longer looked like innocent party-goers.

But as he did, he felt a hand come from nowhere and grip one of his arms, twisting it, wrenching it up behind his back, the muscle surely tearing, as a leg somehow flipped him over at the same time and he crashed face first, hard, into the side of the car, with a terrible crack from his teeth – his mouth filling instantly with blood.

“Zoe!” he shouted, hoping she was already running, but she was still there, and he heard her scream as one of the guys pushed her to the ground. He wanted to help her but everything was happening too fast.

The door of the sedan swung open and a heavy hood was slipped over his head and tied with a drawstring – so tight around his neck he could hardly breathe. He felt himself being dragged and shoved into the back seat of the car.

Then the engine roared, the door shut, one of the guys piled in on top of him and he felt the car pull away from the kerb, the tyres screeching – and outside, Zoe’s screams piercing the night air.

As he started to shout and scream too, something heavy crashed hard onto his skull – and, like that, he was out like a light.

2. New York, New York!

Sir Harry Mortimer stood on the top deck of the great Cunard liner Mauretania in the early morning sea breeze, watching as the massive ship glided by the Statue of Liberty on the port side, tiny figures visiting the monument, waving in response to the echoing ship’s horn.

Of course, at his side, was his American wife Lady Mortimer – though much better known in her home town of New York, he guessed, as Kat Reilly.

Harry always loved hearing about how Kat had grown up here in the Bronx, much of that time spent serving beers to customers in her father’s bar the Lucky Shamrock.

This trip, with Kat in charge? It was going to be wonderful fun!

“You okay, Harry?” she said, pressing close and looking into his eyes.

Harry could guess why she was asking.

The very last time he had been in the city, he’d been just a boy.

Bereft. Suddenly an orphan. Shipped from Nova Scotia to New York with hundreds of other survivors of the Titanic, ready to be quickly despatched back to England on board the Carpathia.

His mother and father still officially “missing”. Among – according to some estimates – 1500 people.

Missing...

Though Maggie, his nanny, had been honest with him and had told him, through tears, that the worst had almost certainly happened.

He turned to Kat.

“You know – I’m fine,” he said, smiling at her. “Surprisingly so. I thought I’d have all those dreadful feelings again, but, it seems, perhaps their time has passed. And, I must say, I’m glad.”

“Time does heal, dear husband,” she said. “Maybe it is true what they say.”

Then she held him tighter as they both turned again, peering through the excited crowds clustered at the ship’s rails as the thrilling skyline of New York loomed just ahead of them.

“Let me guess,” he said, after a minute, nodding to the immense, shining tower in the centre of what he knew to be Manhattan. “That building must be the marvel of the age – the Chrysler Building?”

“Biggest marvel – for now. The new Empire State Building will tower over even that, when it’s done in a year or two.”

“Extraordinary,” said Harry. “I definitely want to visit... see the city from there too!”

He realised that he sounded as excited as a kid.

“Oh yes. We may be able to get our own private tour,” said Kat. “I put some feelers out before we left.”

“Oh, did you indeed? And what other surprises do you have planned for our little ‘home town’ holiday – or vacation as you prefer to call it?”

“Well then, if I told you they wouldn’t be surprises, would they? But first stop: the Plaza Hotel. Always good to leave a little room for spontaneity.”

“Ah yes, spontaneity. Don’t we always do that so well?”

“Gotta warn you though, there is a compulsory get-together at the Shamrock so you can... meet the family.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” said Harry, then seeing the expression on her face, he grinned and lowered his voice. “No really –I mean it – I can’t. I want to hear all the stories. How the scrawny kid from the wrong side of the tracks got out of the Bronx—”

“Scrawny?” she said, facing up to him, her fists mock raised. “Excuse me. I’ll have you know I was a match for any of them Broadway hoodlums!”

Harry laughed and continued: “Still are, I’m sure. And, as I was saying, I’m keen to hear how, you, fresh out of the Bronx, ended up doing diplomatic work of the most dangerous kind for your Uncle Sam.”

“Hmm, think we better keep quiet about that last bit,” said Kat. “As far as the Reilly clan are aware, I was but a humble secretary, who just happened to get posted round the world more than most.”

“Oh yes. Mum’s the word,” said Harry.

“Good. And we’ll definitely keep mum about our recent little escapades back in England.”

“Indeed. No, I shall tell them all how wonderfully you now play the lady of the manor, opening summer fêtes, cutting ribbons and holding lavish tea parties on the lawn.”

“I wish. There’s a lot to be said for the quiet life.”

“And this jaunt? Nobody needing our help? Perfect. Though I do expect to return home with a trunk full of souvenirs.”

“Aha, well, speaking of trunks, Sir Harry I do believe we should make sure that ours are ready to be disembarked.”

And she took his hand as they went below decks, and the great ship approached the Chelsea Piers.

*

As their cab drove up through the early Saturday morning streets of Manhattan – destination the Plaza Hotel – Kat hoped that the classy hotel was well equipped with fans.

The heat was stifling, a muggy, steamy heat, and a ripe smell that took her straight back to her years living and working here during what were called the “dog days of summer”.

Not that it seemed, so far, to bother Harry. Maybe during his stint in Cairo he had learned how to ignore heat.

Now, during this ride, he twisted and turned in his seat, excitedly pointing out landmarks he recognised – as well as amazing new buildings that weren’t even there last time she was home. And everywhere, street vendors, kids playing, hawkers, slick automobiles, trolleys clanging their way – all bustling, even on a Saturday.

The smells and the sounds of the city – almost hypnotic.

Outside the Plaza, as bellboys efficiently transported their cases and trunks inside, she and Harry stopped – nearly cricking their necks to look up at the absurd top storeys, before rushing in through the hotel’s grand doors like a honeymoon couple.

As they rode up in the enormous elevator, Kat said to Harry that she’d always dreamed of staying right here, in the famous hotel.

And Harry said that yes, he remembered her saying that once, which was why he’d booked them...

... a suite on the seventh floor.

Then, as the bellboy took his tip and left, and they stepped through into the luxurious sitting room, with ceiling-to-floor windows that looked out onto Central Park, a floor fan churning away, she turned to Harry and gave him the longest hug ever.

“Isn’t this just perfect?” she said. “This is going to be a week to remember.”

At the very moment Kat said those words, there was a polite tap on the door and an envelope slid under it.

Harry shot her a look, walked over, picked it up.

“To Lady Mortimer,” he said, reading the envelope and handing it to her. “Strictly private and confidential.”

Kat looked at the envelope. On the back the words: Sean O’Driscoll, Attorney at Law.

“Oh. From my old mentor, Sean,” she said. “I cabled him to say we were coming. It’ll probably be an invite to some stuffy old lawyers’ reception. Don’t worry, I’ll find a nice way of saying ‘no’.”

But when she opened the envelope and took out the letter, she immediately saw this was no invite.

She finished reading the brief note and handed it to Harry.

“My dear Kat,” he read aloud. “My apologies for interrupting your vacation. But I have a very personal favour to ask. At my suggestion, your presence – and that of your husband – is urgently needed by Mr Randolph Crowther, address below, within the hour. I would not request this of you were it not – quite simply – a matter of life and death.”

Harry looked up. And said, simply, “Well...”

“Well