The Melbourne Medallion: The Gemini Detectives, #2

By Lynda Wilcox

A priceless heirloom. A stolen diary. A leading lady with a gun. Does it all add up to Murder?

When Linzi and Loren Repton arrive at the Stanby Playhouse to search for a missing diary, they find their client, actress Josie Middleton, standing over the body of Stuart Allen. With the police determined to take things at face value, the Gemini Detectives have just twenty-four hours to prove her innocence, or Josie's big stage comeback will be as dead as her co-star.

Download The Melbourne Medallion and discover the truth for yourself in this traditional British whodunit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lynda Wilcox
• Release date: Apr 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524269333

Lynda Wilcox

Lynda Wilcox's first piece of published writing was a poem in the school magazine. In her twenties she wrote Pantomime scripts for Amateur Dramatic groups and was a founder member of The Facts of Life, a foursome who wrote and performed comedy sketches for radio. Now she concocts fantasy stories for older children (10-13) and writes funny whodunits for adults. Lynda lives in a small town in England, in an untidy house with four ageing computers and her (equally ageing but very supportive) husband. She enjoys pottering in the garden where she grow brambles, bindweed and nettles along with roses and lilies. Oh! And slugs!  Slugs that feed well on everything but the brambles and weeds. Most of all, she loves to write —  it gets her out of doing the housework. She also reads a lot and enjoys good food and wine.

Book preview

The Melbourne Medallion

by

Lynda Wilcox

Copyright © 2016 Lynda Wilcox. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without the expressed written permission of the Author.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters and events in this novel are the product of the author's imagination. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This book follows British English spelling and usage.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 1

What time is she coming? asked Loren, unlocking the office door. I'm so excited at the thought of meeting her. A real television star.

She's a lot more than that, said Linzi. Josie Middleton was the greatest stage actress of her generation.

Oh, right, said Loren, whose knowledge of the theatre extended no further than a visit to the annual pantomime at the Stanby Playhouse.

Linzi lifted a sheet of blue notepaper out of her desk drawer and ran her eyes over the rounded script.

According to her letter she's coming this morning at eleven o'clock, so you'll have to be  patient until then.

Patience, however, was not one of Loren's virtues, and her pretty face twisted in a grimace.

Oh.

It's only a couple of hours. Perhaps you could research her in the meantime, Linzi suggested. I'll make the coffee.

Leaving her twin sister to switch on the computers and make a start on the next case for the Gemini Detective Agency, she walked into the rear office, where a small kitchenette held a sink, and cupboards stocked with jars of coffee and packets of biscuits. A fridge containing milk and an assortment of fruit juices sat to one side.

Gosh, there's loads about her on the web, said Loren as her sister placed a mug of coffee on her desk. She's had a really eventful life.

Go on. Loren took a seat behind her own desk.

Josie Middleton, Loren read out loud, had first graced the stage at the age of 18 in a local production of Guys and Dolls. That had been back in 1980. Thereafter she had gone on to take the West End by storm, becoming a favourite of the critics and the darling of the crowds. Even Broadway had put out the red carpet for her and fallen at her feet.

Where's Broadway then? Loren halted her reading and looked up from the screen.

New York. It's their equivalent of London's West End.

Oh. Right.

Hit had followed hit over the next twenty years. However, according to the contents of the official Josie Middleton website that Loren was relaying, in 2000 she had been divorced from her husband and suffered a severe bout of stage fright, following which she had retired.

Hmm. Linzi tapped her pen against her lips. She'd only be 38 or so at the time. A little early to retire, I'd have thought. Go on.

Josie Middleton married again in 2007. Her new husband was the media magnate Sir Desmond Melbourne. In 2009 she was tempted back into acting by being offered the role of Sally Ingle, the indomitable farmer's wife, in the new television soap, Greengage Farm.

That's where I know her from, Linzi interrupted yet again. Mother never misses an episode. So, what is she doing in Stanby?

"It says it's her return to the stage after an absence of ten years. She's appearing in a play called The Matriarch by Leonard Sitwell, whoever he is."

Linzi looked down again at the neat handwriting and the flamboyant signature on the notepaper lying in front of her.

I wonder what she wants with us?

Now who's being impatient? Loren grinned. We'll find out soon enough.

THE DOOR SWUNG SLOWLY open and a well-dressed woman stepped through, pausing in the shaft of sunlight coming through the side window as though it were a spotlight.

Hello. You must be the Repton twins. The well-modulated voice held a harmonious edge, as if she would burst into song at any moment. I'm Josie Middleton.

Loren greeted their client, bobbing up from behind a desk and offering a chair. Yes that's us. Do come in.

She made as grand an entrance into their small office as she did onto any West End stage, thought Linzi, observing their visitor closely and admiring what she saw. The blonde colour of her well-coiffured hair was due more to the hairdresser's art than anything nature had provided and several shades darker than the twins' own pale locks. Her make-up and manicure were immaculate and the cut of the clothes on the trim figure had designer written all over them. This woman, this star, Linzi corrected herself, did not buy the contents of her wardrobe on the High Street.

She rose to her feet, resisting the temptation to applaud Miss Middleton as she crossed from the door and sat down in front of her.

Good morning. I'm Linzi and this is Loren. She waved a hand toward her sister who now stood beside her.

Hello.

How can we help you? asked Linzi when the visitor had refused the offer of tea or coffee.

I'm being blackmailed and I'd like you to put a stop to it.

Casting a surprised glance at her twin, Linzi asked their client if she knew who the blackmailer was.

I have my suspicions.

What is it they're demanding?

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Josie told them. They have my personal diary, which they will send to the press if I do not give them the Melbourne Medallion.

I take it that this Medallion is valuable?

Oh yes, it's practically priceless. It actually belongs to my husband and has been in Desmond's family for several generations. His great-great-grandfather had it made for his wife on the birth of their first son, back in the late 1800s, I think it was.

But you have it? Or is it in the bank, perhaps?

No, I have it with me. Desmond gave it to me when we were married. I'm just not prepared to give it to some filthy blackmailer.

Her painted lips twisted in disgust at the word.

And the diary, said Loren, why is it important? Why would the press be interested?

The actress looked down at her hands, face creased in worry or indecision; it was hard to tell which. Suddenly she looked up again.

Lucinda Lockington assures me of your complete discretion...

If Linzi was surprised that their previous client had recommended them, she didn't show it.  Naturally, she murmured, with a slight inclination of her head.

Josie looked from one to the other of the twins, her lips alternately pursing and relaxing.

Very well. I'm actually writing a book about my time in the theatre. Over the years I have kept several diaries, into which I have written my honest views of the people I have worked with over that time.

By honest, I take it you mean less than flattering? Or are we talking of libel?

Some people would think so, yes, Josie agreed. Of course, my publisher, or their editor, will make sure it isn't actually libellous when it's printed.

But in the meantime, there's still the diary.

Yes. I've also written some fairly damning things about my husband's competitors. If the diary got into their hands...

Linzi winced at the thought. Damning indeed, if other press barons got to hear what Sir Desmond Melbourne's wife, and possibly the man himself, thought of them all.

I must get it back. I'll pay you whatever you want.

Linzi glanced at her twin, who lowered and raised her eyelids in a slow blink, a signal that she wanted to take the case.

Very well, she said. Our usual rate is five hundred pounds a day plus expenses. We also ask for a minimum two day retainer.

The actress opened her bag and withdrew a cheque book and a pen. Who shall I make it payable to?

When Loren had taken the proffered cheque, Linzi resumed her questions. Now, what does the diary look like and where did you keep it?

Ah. Josie Middleton flashed them a small, embarrassed smile. I'm afraid I had it with me in my dressing room at the Playhouse. I tend to jot things into it during breaks in rehearsals, you see.

You didn't lock it away?

No, though I usually put it away out of sight in a drawer when I go on stage, and I take it back to the hotel with me every night. It's a five-year diary, about the size of a small paperback, bound in red leather.

Where are you staying? Loren wanted to know.

I'm in the Grand, along with other members of the cast.

It was the best hotel in Stanby, though it had grown slightly shabby over the years and probably no longer deserved its five-star status. Even so, it must still cost a lot to keep that number of people in it for any length of time, and Linzi wondered who was bankrolling the production. As this was Josie's big comeback, perhaps it was Sir Desmond.

Is your husband with you?

No. He's arriving on Saturday for the opening night.

While Linzi considered this, Loren put a question.

When did you last see the diary?

On Monday afternoon. I put it in the drawer whilst I went with Claire, my dresser, to the costume store. When I got back it had gone. On Tuesday I received the first letter demanding the medallion. There was another this morning. A more threatening one.

How did they arrive. By post?

No. They were pushed under the door of my room at the hotel.

She re-opened her bag and took out a couple of folded sheets which she passed to Linzi. The paper had The Grand Hotel's logo printed on the top. Underneath, the blackmailer's demands had been written in block capitals.

It says to leave the medallion on the floor in front of seat 3, Row G on Tuesday afternoon by three o'clock and, in return, the diary would be left in your dressing room.

Yes. I left a note offering money instead, the next morning I got the other one. Josie pointed to the letters.

Linzi slid the top sheet aside. The second letter said simply, No money. Leave the medallion in the same place, at the same time today, or the diary is in the post tomorrow.

Did you see anyone near that seat at that time?

No, I was on stage then and, with the light directly on me, it's impossible to see that far back in the auditorium. Besides, there were a lot of people milling around down there.

I see. Linzi nodded. You realise we will have to visit the Playhouse? We will need to speak, discreetly of course, to everyone there.

Oh yes. Josie's bag came into play once more. In fact, here is a stage door pass for you both and a complimentary programme, so that you know who everyone is.

Thank you. Loren took the proffered items.

I thought if you were there, in the stalls at three, you could see who came looking and get my diary back from them. She smiled brightly at them.

That's a tall order, Miss Middleton, said Loren.

Yes, but you do come highly recommended. So, if you'd like to call on me in my dressing room at two o'clock this afternoon, I'll show you where to go. There will be plenty of time before the dress rehearsal at three.

We will be there, said Linzi, as the visitor rose to go.

Thank you.

Josie took three measured steps to the door and turned to deliver her parting lines. Quite frankly, if anything in that diary is published, it would be the end of my career. You must get it back. I don't care how much it costs, I'll pay anything, I'll do anything, but I must have it back.

WELL! LOREN EXCLAIMED after Josie's departure. What did you make of that?

It was quite a performance, wasn't it? Linzi agreed, writing a few notes on her pad.

Humph. We're going to have our work cut out to earn our money on this one. She wants us to catch a blackmailer red-handed.

Yes. There's quite a lot she hasn't told us, as well.

You reckon she knows who the blackmailer is?

I'm sure of it.

It has to be one of the cast, certainly, if the notes have been written on the Grand's paper.

That depends, though I think we should have a scout around the hotel as well as the Playhouse.

We could always send Magda, Loren said, and immediately corrected herself. Or perhaps not.

As the daughters of Detective Superintendent Repton of Stanby CID, it was hardly surprising that the girls had decided to set themselves up in business in similar vein, but while their mother fretted over their choice of career, their father  had been convinced they'd be investigating nothing more dangerous than divorce cases and lost dogs. In the latter instance he'd been proved right and their very first case had been reuniting an elderly bag lady with Skip, her missing wire-haired terrier of indeterminate parentage.

Which is how Magda had come into their lives and helped them solve their next case, the much more dangerous — and profitable — theft of the Lockington Legacy.  Quite what the staff at the Grand or the actors at the Stanby Playhouse would make of a disreputable bag lady was as much a mystery as the woman herself, and Linzi pulled a doubtful face at Loren's suggestion.

We'll see. It may not come to that if the blackmailer turns up and we nab them and get the diary.

Loren nodded, flicking through the programme their client had left.

I hardly know any of these people, she said.

Bending her head beside her twin's, Linzi scanned the cast list. I know him. She pointed to the name Pendle Caldwell. "I'm sure he was in a film. You remember, that remake of Treasure Island. He played a pirate."

Ah, pictures. Loren turned a page. That's better.

In full colour, facing each other on opposite pages, Josie Middleton and Stuart Allen, the two stars of The Matriarch smiled out at their public.

Oh, I know him, said Loren pointing to Allen's handsome face. "I really liked him in The Doctor Visits, on television."

You fancied him, more like.

Yeah, well, maybe.

Linzi grinned at her, then put her head down and read the text.

It says here he's been married three times, and get this; all their names begin with the letter L. You may be in with a chance.

Loren laughed and turned the page.

Smaller photos followed, together with brief biographies of the remaining cast and other notable figures: the Director, Theatre Manager and Promoter.

There's quite a few, isn't there? I wonder which one is our blackmailer?

Or if they are here at all. Linzi flicked pages back and forth. Nine pictures, six actors, plus others at the Playhouse. It could be anyone.

She pushed the programme away and picked up her mug, walking through the back office to the kitchen to make fresh. Loren followed her in and opened a carrier bag on the worktop.

You know, if we do manage to sort it out and get Josie's diary back this afternoon, that's going to be the fastest five hundred quid we've ever earned.

That's a big 'if', Sis.

Yeah, I know. The cheque's made out for a thousand, though. I'll pay it in the bank on the way to the Playhouse. Tuna and mayo, or cheese and pickle? She brought two packs of sandwiches out of the bag and reached to the shelf above her for a couple of plates.

Hmm? Linzi's mind still pondered the case they'd just landed. Oh, cheese, please.

Loren cleared space on the table before putting the plates down and pulling up a chair. Whilst it would have been easier to sit at their desks and eat the sandwiches from the plastic trays they came in, the girls had been brought up in a more well-mannered fashion, a reflection on their mother who, prior to her marriage, had been the Honourable Prunella Hartshorne. Having grown up as a member of the minor nobility, she had passed on her own upbringing to her daughters and by now, the habit of gentility was ingrained.

Seriously, Linzi, said Loren, reverting to her previous topic, we need Josie Middleton's money. The fee we earned in the Lockington case won't last for ever, and there's nothing new on the books.

I know. We could try advertising again. A regular advert in the Stanby Chronicle or Herald, perhaps. My one fear with that is that it will bring in nothing but divorce cases.

It didn't last time.

No, it earned us all of one pound for finding a missing teddy bear.

Loren laughed at the memory, then bit into her sandwich. Finishing her own lunch, Linzi picked up her mug and sat back.

If the blackmailer already has the diary, why not sell it? He'd probably make easier money that way than trying to flog a stolen medallion.

Loren considered this, then nodded in agreement. Are we going to have an incident board like last time? She pointed to the large whiteboard screwed to the far wall.

We'll see. If we catch our man this afternoon, we might not need one.

The route to the Playhouse took the Gemini Detectives through the centre of Stanby, a ten minute walk past the town's shops, wine bars, and market. It was a pleasant enough place to live, especially when