The Sandie Shaw Mysteries, An American in Windsor: Sandie Shaw, #3

By R T Green

1920's Windsor may be half a world away from Chicago, but as Sandie discovers, when it comes to murder there's very little difference!

Sandie, Daphne and Archie travel to England in this country house murder mystery. It's supposed to be a relaxing break, courtesy of an invite from Roland, but of course once there, they become embroiled in mysterious goings-on.

Invited to a weekend with Roland's titled relatives, it isn't long before murder rears its ugly head. Sandie's natural instincts are to find out who is responsible, but when the fallout gets too close for comfort, she realizes just how ugly things can get…

This is the third book in the Sandie Shaw Mysteries series. Read about the others, and everything else we do, on the rtgreen website.

Enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wise Owl
• Release date: Jun 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201314538

R T Green

The RTG mission in life is simple... to not be like everyone else! ‘Going Green’ has taken on a new meaning, in the book world at least. Whilst we applaud the original meaning (ebooks are a perfect way to promote that) we also try to present a different angle to it. The tendency these days is that if you don’t look and read like everyone else, you don’t sell books. Maybe there’s some truth in that, but we simply don’t do it. The RTG books have been described as a ‘breath of fresh literary air’, and, by those discovering us for the first time, ‘unexpectedly good’. We know many readers prefer the same-old same old, and that’s fine. It’s just not what you get from the RTG stable. Those who know about such things said it would take five years to become a proficient author... I scoffed at that. They were wise. It took six. It’s one reason why even today we remodel existing books, and will always do so. Right from the early years the stories were always good, but were put into words less well than they could have been! These days we have several series and a few standalones, the hit Daisy series most popular amongst them. In everything we do, the same provisos apply – Never the same book twice. If we can’t think up a good story, it doesn’t get written. The RTG brand is about exciting and twisty plots, a fast pace which doesn’t waste words, and endearing (sometimes slightly crazy) characters. We can never please everyone, but it works for us, and, it seems, for those who appreciate our work. Enjoy! Richard, Ann and the RTG crew

Book preview

Introduction

1927 WINDSOR MAY BE HALF a world away from Chicago, but as Sandie discovers, when it comes to murder there’s very little difference!

She, Daphne and Archie travel to England in this country house murder mystery. It’s supposed to be a relaxing break, courtesy of an invite from Roland, but of course once there, they become embroiled in mysterious goings-on.

Invited for a weekend with Roland’s titled friends, it isn’t long before murder rears its ugly head. When the fallout gets too close for comfort, solving the crime becomes more essential than ever, and Sandie realizes just how ugly things can get, no matter where you are...

Enjoy!

Richard, Ann, and the crew

An American in Windsor

Chapter 1

‘DOES MY BOTTOM LOOK big in this?’

Daphne‘s face was hidden behind a copy of The Tribune she was supposedly reading. ‘You want the truth, or the truth?’

‘You know me, partner. Always tell it as it is.’

‘You sure?’ she grinned as she lowered the newspaper.

‘Damn certain.’

‘Ok. Your bottom looks big in everything.’

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘You said you wanted the truth.’

‘I didn’t mean...’ I caught the grin, and stomped away from the mirror I was cavorting in front of, so I could glare at my friend in closer proximity. ‘Really?’

Daphne winked cheekily. ‘Ok, I lied. You’ve actually got quite a neat little rear view, considering.’

‘Um... considering what?’

‘Considering you’re in your fifties, and you’re... American.’

I stomped away again, and went back to cavorting in the mirror. ‘That’s racist. Just because you’re from Ghana, and so gorgeous you’d look good in a canvas rice sack.’

‘Now you’re being ridiculous... seriously..? Would I look good in sacking?’

‘Is my rear end neat and pert?’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘Then you would look good in a rice sack, yes.’

Daphne lifted up the newspaper again. ‘I really don’t know what you’re worrying about anyway. Dragging me to Marshall Field’s to help you choose a couple of silly dresses, when you could just go in the clothes you already have.’

‘Oh come on, Daphne. I need to look the part when I meet Roland’s aristocratic English types. My frumpy unswanky American clothes ain’t gonna cut it. You should know that... they’re your kind of people after all.’

Daphne shook her head. ‘First off, they’re not my kind of people. It may have been James’s world, but both of us couldn’t wait to get away from it. And secondly... you really think wearing acres of fabric and bustles will make you seem like one of them?’

I lowered my head. ‘I just didn’t want to let you down, Daphne.’

Daphne gave me a reassuring hug. ‘Then just be who you are. Be proud of the fact you’re American, and always tell it like it is... even if right now you do look like a frumpy old dowager.’

I ripped off the silly hat and threw it at her. ‘Ok, apparently I’m not the only one who tells it like it is. Shall I just buy the figure-hugging blue number then?’

I’d made a slightly-important point, regardless of Daphne’s comments. Most of my wardrobe did look unswanky. She was right about not trying to look too much like the English aristocracy she’d escaped from fifteen years ago, but it still didn’t mean I had to go without a couple of new outfits to mark the occasion.

Two weeks in Windsor, England, at the invitation of Roland Garrett, was an opportunity to expand my horizons I couldn’t say no to. The cash for the passage was there, for all three of us, courtesy of Lady Holmes being forced to part with an extortionate fee for our services...which included getting her banged up in prison.

All part of the service, ma’am... as they say.

I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy about the vacation though... Daphne managed to swan her way through situations involving the well-heeled with ridiculous ease, but I didn’t possess her awesome assets, which quite frankly made it easier for her to swan through situations with any kind of person.

I’d never been comfortable with the rich and famous. That might be a contradiction in terms these days... since the three of us set up our detective agency, Daphne had found some clients for which money was no problem, so I’d kind of had to get used to fraternizing with the upper classes.

It didn’t mean I enjoyed that part of the job. A few of those people were nicer than I’d expected... most of them were totally obnoxious.

It didn’t mean Roland’s peers were. Even so, rubbing noses with well-off English people was making me a little jittery around the edges. It wasn’t quelling the excitement though, for Archie and me. He was chomping at the bit with anticipation. He’d hardly ever left Chicago, and certainly never been out on the wide expanses of the ocean... a steam-packet trip on Lake Michigan couldn’t really compare.

I decided to smile sweetly, and allow a little of his enthusiasm to rub off on me. In two days we were to travel to New York, and step aboard the Olympic for the passage to Southampton.

I was looking forward to it... really I was.

We left Marshall Ward’s and climbed into the Studebaker to head home. In the rear seat were two packages, each of them containing my new outfits for the trip.

Both of them were slim-fitting dresses, and as American as American gets. Unnecessary wearable clutter would get in the way of me being myself after all.

Chapter 2

‘I DIDN’T THINK IT WOULD be this identical.’

We stood on the quayside at New York docks, gazing up in an awe-inspired way at the bulk of the RMS Olympic, the White Star Line’s transatlantic flagship. Well, two of us were awe-inspired. One of us looked a little unsure.

‘Surely you knew it was almost the same as the Titanic?’

‘Well, yes... but it’s like déjà vu.

‘I can’t imagine what you must have gone through, getting shipwrecked fifteen years ago on your way here.’

She wiped away a tear. ‘No. But I went through it with James by my side.’

Archie seemed to be missing her emotional trauma, too wrapped up with the excitement of getting aboard. ‘They’ve even modified it recently, so it’s more like the Titanic. Made the a la carte restaurant a bit smaller, and fitted in another Café Parisien.’

‘That’s not really helping, Archie.’

His face fell as he noticed Daphne’s tear. ‘Aw, sorry. I didn’t mean...’

She forced a smile. ‘It’s ok, Archie. Good and bad memories, you know?’

I had to say it. ‘Daphne, if you’d rather call it off, it’s ok.’

She shook her head. ‘No, I wouldn’t. They say you should get straight back on the horse. I think fifteen years is long enough, don’t you? And we’ll never get a refund on the tickets at this late stage.’

‘No, but if it hurts too much?’

She began to stride towards the gangplank. ‘Let’s do it. New horizons, and all that?’

Archie and me followed her, Archie looking extremely relieved. Memories of the Titanic tragedy had been fading, but for the one of us who’d lived through it, it must have felt like it happened yesterday.

I already knew it, but right then she’d just confirmed it yet again. Daphne was one brave lady.

Archie popped his head around the door, the grin almost splitting his face in two. ‘I asked the captain if we were likely to hit an iceberg, but he didn’t look too pleased.’

He didn’t appear too bothered by the captain’s offhandedness though. ‘Archie, that’s not really helping Daphne either,’ I said sternly.

‘Aw geez, I didn’t mean nothin’. He said that in fifteen years things had moved on from a guy without binoculars.’

‘I’m sure they have. And I’m sure you were somewhere around the millionth passenger whose asked that particular question.’

‘Hmm... maybe that’s why he looked so pissed.’

Daphne found a grin. ‘Bank on it. If I were him I’d avoid passenger meet-and-greets like I’d get some disease.’

‘To be fair, I did go and find him. That bridge is incredible.’

‘You... you went on the bridge, Archie?’

‘Well, yeah. They let the kids have a look before they depart.’

‘Kids? You’re twenty.’

He grinned like a little boy. ‘I can be childlike when I need to be.’

‘And no one noticed you were taller than the other kids?’

He lowered his head. ‘Um... one or two of them were taller than me.’

Daphne gave him a hug. ‘You’re still my ex-peanut, now walnut, Archie.’

‘Gee thanks. I think.’

I had to laugh, although I tried not to. ‘What Daphne means is that vertically challenged or not, we’re all equal partners now, so when we get to England don’t go calling either of us boss, ok?’

‘Sure bo... Sandie. Need to get used to not being a minion anymore.’

‘I’m not sure you ever were.’

The Olympic left New York, and was about to head out into the big wide Atlantic. Archie wasn’t the only one excited, although I tried hard not to show mine, for Daphne’s sake. She’d done it all before, with horrifying consequences. When she and James had first come to America it was on the Titanic. They’d made it through the tragedy, but now she was living it again, on an ocean liner that was identical in almost every respect, and operated by the same company.

I couldn’t hope to understand the terror she’d gone through, but at least for them it had turned out alright in the end. Until James was murdered in Chicago years later, by someone who didn’t want the secrets he knew seeing the light of day.

Someone whose identity we knew, but who still hadn’t been apprehended for his crimes. He would be, one day. Hopefully by us, so that Daphne could have full closure, in whatever way she found it.

But that wasn’t going to happen for at least the next two weeks, with us vacationing in England. A break was something we all needed... but it wouldn’t stop us throwing everything into finding the evil murderer when we got back to Chicago.

We’d booked second-class accommodation on the Olympic, a twin-bedded cabin for Daphne and me, and a single for Archie. We’d decided that first-class was just too pricey, when I had to buy new outfits as well! Archie had the smart suit we’d bought for the sting against Mickey at Christmas, which ultimately failed, and Daphne possessed a multitude of breathtaking outfits anyway... but I felt the need for something a little more elegant, even though elegant could never accurately describe me.

But at least I was trying. My father would most likely have been proud.

The cabins were excellent. What was designated as second class on the White Star flagship would have been first-class on many other vessels, and with the first-class promenade being abolished since the Titanic’s time, most passengers mingled happily together.

Apart from the captain’s table, hardly anywhere was off-limits to anyone these days. Except third-class passengers, who still had to endure their own less-salubrious facilities.

We decided to eat in the A la Carte restaurant on our first evening. As we walked along the luxurious corridor from the grand staircase, which brought another sad memory or two for Daphne, Archie was turning a little green around the gills. The permanent smile had gone, and he wasn’t looking like he felt much like eating.

‘You sure you want to join us tonight, Archie?’

‘Um... been looking forward to it for weeks. Not going to let a little queasiness get in the way.’

‘Archie? We’ve only just left the shelter of the harbor. What’s going to happen when we hit the stormy seas of the mid-Atlantic?’

‘Huh? Stormy seas?’

Daphne took his hand. ‘She’s kidding, Archie. We might not hit a storm.’

‘Might not?’

She smiled encouragingly. ‘Never mind. A few oysters and a little champagne will soon sort you out.’

‘Um... they will?’

‘Well, maybe.’

‘Oh gee...’

As it turned out, the sheer spectacular surroundings of the restaurant did the job. No oysters needed. Which was likely a good thing, as only one of us had ever had oysters before. I had to sigh out an expression of relief... fighting to control an oyster knife, watched by a hundred people who had done it all before, wasn’t something I was looking forward to.

In the end we selected spiced shrimp, followed by Buckinghamshire veal. We could both manage the standard knife and fork those dishes required.

Chapter 3

‘MY THOUGHTS ARE TURNING to James, Sandie.’

‘You make it sound like they weren’t before.’

‘No, I mean, being on this ship, eating in the A la Carte restaurant... it’s like it was yesterday.’

‘The yesterday when he was still alive, I guess.’

‘Yes. To survive the sinking of the Titanic, and then...’

I reached across the narrow space between the two beds. ‘I know it can never compensate, Daphne, but I promise you, when we get back we’ll throw everything we have into finding Mickey.’

She lowered her head, and wiped away a tear. ‘We still have to earn a living, Sandie.’

‘And we will, but there are three of us. We can do more than one thing at the same time. And we will, for the sake of justice.’

‘I’m not sure there is any justice left. But there will be a certain satisfaction in making sure Mickey pays for his crimes.’

‘Then you just hang onto that for now... let’s have a nice English vacation, and then we’ll be sure to make it happen.’

‘Thank you.’

‘There’s no thanks needed, Daphne. We all want this to happen, almost as much as you do.’

She smiled beautifully. ‘I have the very best friends now. My own friends. You will perhaps never know how much that means. Let me thank you for that, if nothing else.’

We set our champagne flutes down on the bedside table, turned out the lights, and snuggled down to find sleep. I couldn’t help thinking I should have thanked her for being my friend too. Archie came to work for me as soon as he left school, and rapidly became a friend. But other than that, I’d always been a loner.

Daphne changed all that, and made me realize a true friend is a precious, important thing. It wasn’t just the invaluable contribution she made to the business. No, it was far more than that. It was the contribution she made to me... a set-in-her-ways, partially withdrawn, middle-aged woman who only ever mixed with the people involved with her work.

The woman who, since her father died, didn’t know what it was like to have someone to share stuff with. Archie was great, and in his own way, just as valuable. But he wasn’t Daphne, the one person I found myself wanting to just simply be there.

Yes, I really should have thanked her.

We had to knock Archie up the next morning. Not that he looked like he’d want any breakfast, judging by the state of him. Daphne wasn’t letting up with the quips.

‘We’re just going to take a little sea air, and see if there are any storms on the horizon,’ she said, a cheeky glint in her eye.

He looked at her through narrowed eyes, which gave away the fact he’d not seen much sleep. ‘You mean that wasn’t a storm last night? Ooh, I really shouldn’t have had that shrimp.’

‘Archie, it was like a sheet of glass,’ I said.

‘Must have been my stomach then,’ he groaned.

We left him to his discomfort, knowing we wouldn’t see much of him that day. Or the next three, if we were being honest. There was always a chance he’d get his sea legs. Well, a faint one.

We took the air for a few minutes, but out on the water in mid-February, we didn’t stay too long. We decided not to tell Archie there were one or two icebergs floating on the horizon.

If he’d braved glancing out of his cabin window, he’d have seen them anyway. We were too kind to intentionally add to his fears.

After the first day the icebergs were no more. Well into the passage, we were making slightly warmer waters. And three days later, the green hills of Hampshire were dotting the horizon.

‘So how was it, Daphne?’ I asked as we packed our cases.

She smiled, and