Deadly Treasures

Murder on the coast

Lady Alkmene Callender has little interest in marriage, especially when her father is up to his matchmaking tricks, but when the opportunity arises to visit an archaeological dig she cannot resist.

However, when she arrives to find her potential groom under arrest for murder Lady Alkmene begins to wonder if she isn’t in the right place at the right time.

Putting her extensive sleuthing skills to good use, Lady Alkmene – along with reporter Jake Dubois – starts to investigate, hoping to uncover the real killer before she too ends up six feet under…

Available from Vivian Conroy

A Lady Alkmene Callender Mystery series

A Proposal to Die For

Diamonds of Death

Deadly Treasures

Deadly Treasures

Vivian Conroy

VIVIAN CONROY

discovered Agatha Christie at thirteen and quickly devoured all the Poirot and Miss Marple stories. Over time Lord Peter Wimsey and Brother Cadfael joined her favourite sleuths. Even more fun than reading was thinking up her own fog-filled alleys, missing heirs and priceless artefacts. So Vivian created feisty Lady Alkmene and enigmatic reporter Jake Dubois sleuthing in 1920s’ London and the countryside, first appearing in A Proposal to Die For. For the latest on #LadyAlkmene, with a dash of dogs and chocolate, follow Vivian on Twitter via @VivWrites

Acknowledgments

Thanks to all editors, agents and authors who share insights into the writing and publishing process.

Thanks to my fantastic editor Victoria Oundjian, for her continued enthusiasm for Lady Alkmene’s adventures, and to the design team for the fabulous cover with the coastal feel.

A special thanks to all book bloggers and readers who have left reviews for the first two books in the Lady Alkmene series or have reached out to say how much they love the character dynamics. Nothing makes me happier than to know my books bring the same sleuthing fun to readers as I experience myself when I dive into a mystery.

Note

Writing mysteries set in the 1920s I’m grateful for all online information – think dress, transportation, etiquette and much more – to ensure an authentic period feel. Still Lady Alkmene’s world remains fictional, including street addresses, establishments, villages and even a castle with a fabled gold treasure of my invention.

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Book List

Title Page

Author Bio

Acknowledgements

Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Excerpt

Copyright

Chapter One

Lady Alkmene Callender had not heard the doorbell ring, as she was wondering how on earth a wife managed to knock off three husbands in a row, by poison, without anybody around her asking any questions.

The story had been provided to her, written in longhand on shabby sheets ripped from various notebooks, including the title page torn from a novel, by her friend, reporter Jake Dubois, who had researched it for the upcoming trial and planned on publishing it in the paper he wrote for as soon as his editor agreed to his demands for a raise.

Jake’s value had gone up – or at least he himself thought it had – since he had cleared a friend of his, a famous cat burglar, of an accusation of murder. Alkmene herself had had a substantial share in the resolution of that case, but she had a deal with Jake to keep her name out of the papers as her poor father, on a botanical quest in India, would surely burst a vessel if he ever found out how she passed the time in his absence.

At the moment Jake was attending the opening of a new yachting club in Plymouth, having left his notes with her to read through and comment upon. He had mockingly asked her if she couldn’t type out a decent summary for him, implying she couldn’t type.

Of course she couldn’t, but she would never tell him that. ‘Father doesn’t have a typewriter,’ she had adduced instead. ‘He insists on writing everything in longhand and so far he has never had a complaint from anyone.’

The door opened, and Brookes, her father’s impeccable butler, appeared on the threshold. ‘Viscount Woolsbury to see you, Lady Alkmene.’

Alkmene blinked. She had not seen the viscount in years. And why would a man who stuck to protocol under all circumstances call upon her without having announced his visit in advance?

Had something happened?

‘Show him in, Brookes,’ she said, organizing the notes in her lap, her thoughts racing.

The viscount’s son, Duncan, had been her childhood nemesis. They had been forced to play together, Duncan always throwing sand in her hair or hiding toads in her bed at his father’s mansion in a remote shire where Alkmene had been placed to spend the summer when her father was away.

Having lost her mother at the age of four, Alkmene had been shipped around from one house of pitying friends to another by a father who had certainly loved her, but loved his botanical adventures even more.