Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 11: Photo-Finish, Light Thickens, Black Beech and Honeydew

Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 11: Photo-Finish, Light Thickens, Black Beech and Honeydew
Ngaio Marsh

The final volume in a set of omnibus editions presenting the complete run of 32 Inspector Alleyn mysteries.PHOTO-FINISHThe luxury mansion on New Zealand's Lake Waihoe is the ideal place for a world-famous soprano to rest after her triumphant tour. Among the other guests are Chief Superintendent Alleyn and his wife - but theirs is not a social visit. When tragedy strikes, and isolated by one of the lake's sudden storms, Alleyn faces one of his trickiest cases…LIGHT THICKENSPeregrine Jay, owner of the Dolphin Theatre, is putting on a magnificent production of Macbeth, the play that, superstition says, always brings bad luck. But one night the claymore swings and the dummy's head is more than real: murder behind the scene. Luckily, Chief Superintendent Roderick Alleyn is in the audience…BLACK BEECH AND HONEYDEWWith all the insight and style her readers came to expect of her, Ngaio Marsh's autobiography captures all the joys, fears and hopes of a spirited young woman growing up in Christchurch, and charts her theatre and writing careers both in New Zealand and the UK. This sanguine, unpretentious and revealing book has been acclaimed for telling her most distinguished mystery - who was Ngaio Marsh?

NGAIO MARSH

INSPECTOR ALLEYN 3-BOOK COLLECTION 11:

Photo Finish, Light Thickens, Black Beech and Honey Dew

CONTENTS

Cover (#ud7ebba38-0027-50c0-ae3a-1b1b45d28b42)

Title Page (#udd2eb93a-266d-5a6a-8873-bbcef77d8fb6)

Photo Finish (#u97886162-e62f-5156-88f0-e48c12e858c6)

Light Thickens (#litres_trial_promo)

Black Beech and Honey Dew (#litres_trial_promo)

BONUS STORY: Morepork (#litres_trial_promo)

Keep Reading (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Photo Finish (#ulink_9e02010c-81c7-5aba-ba59-4df6a153a085)

DEDICATION (#ulink_85e17c19-b0f4-58a7-a172-1449939d4d2b)

For Fredaneve with love

CONTENTS

Title Page (#u97886162-e62f-5156-88f0-e48c12e858c6)

Dedication (#u840ad6b9-cae6-5ded-bbde-e4c9527c78bf)

Cast of Characters (#u25437861-8a8f-5c79-add5-8c62622ed90f)

1. The Sommita (#ue7eac699-821b-5c05-ad30-10c132702364)

2. The Lodge (#ub637c488-a7fe-53e8-b45f-349467118e80)

3. Rehearsal (#u259813d3-7ea7-5112-b19e-19fd637e2e9d)

4. Performance (#u3411cc87-2cfc-517c-9409-93a22ef4a23d)

5. Nocturne (#uae32cbc0-1e22-50a3-bdf5-39b37ccf728f)

6. Storm Continued (#uf97ff8e1-e91d-5a36-9f25-253e0ce9669d)

7. Strix (#u45b7cefa-c68c-5813-b796-83777ecb727a)

8. The Police (#litres_trial_promo)

9.Departure (#litres_trial_promo)

CAST OF CHARACTERS (#ulink_2fcf74f4-42b3-5c18-b77d-64071e7e6fe2)

CHAPTER 1 (#ulink_5e943010-a8da-5d81-9fdd-6ba0257ce41f)

The Sommita (#ulink_5e943010-a8da-5d81-9fdd-6ba0257ce41f)

One of the many marvels of Isabella Sommita’s technique was her breathing: it was totally unobservable. Even in the most exacting passages, even in the most staggering flights of coloratura, there was never the slightest disturbance of the corsage.

‘You could drop an ice cube down her cleavage,’ boasted her manager, Ben Ruby, ‘and not a heave would you get for your trouble.’

He had made this observation when sitting in a box immediately above the diva at the Royal Festival Hall and had spoken no more than the truth. Offstage, when moved by one of her not infrequent rages, La Sommita’s bosom would heave with the best of them.

It did so now, in her private suite at the Château Australasia in Sydney. She was en negligé and it was sumptuously evident that she was displeased and that the cause of her displeasure lay on the table at her elbow: a newspaper folded to expose a half-page photograph with a banner headline, CROSS-PATCH? and underneath, LA SOMMITA IS NOT AMUSED!

It had been taken yesterday in Double Bay, Sydney. The photographer, wearing a floppy white hat, a white scarf over his mouth and dark spectacles had stepped out from an alleyway and gone snap. She had not been quick enough to turn her back but her jaw had dropped and her left eye had slewed; its habit when rage overtook her. The general effect was that of a gargoyle at the dentist’s: an elderly and infuriated gargoyle. The photograph was signed Strix.

She beat on the paper with her largish white fist and her rings cut into it. She panted lavishly.

‘Wants horsewhipping,’ Montague Reece mumbled. He was generally accepted as the Sommita’s established lover and he filled this role in the manner commonly held to be appropriate, being large, rich, muted, pale, dyspeptic and negative. He was said to wield a great deal of power in his own world.

‘Of course he needs horsewhipping,’ shouted his dear one. ‘But where’s the friend who will go out and do it?’ She laughed and executed a wide contemptuous gesture that included all present. The newspaper fluttered to the carpet.

‘Personally,’ Ben Ruby offered, ‘I wouldn’t know one end of a horsewhip from the other.’ She dealt him a glacial stare. ‘I didn’t mean to be funny,’ he said.

‘Nor were you.’

‘No.’

A young man of romantic appearance in a distant chair behind the diva clasped a portfolio of music to his midriff and said in a slightly Australian voice: ‘Can’t something be done? Can’t they be sued?’

‘What for?’ asked Mr Ruby.

‘Well – libel. Look at it, for God’s sake!’ the young man brought out. ‘Well, I mean to say, look!’