The Deadly Whisper

The Deadly WhisperA Chattering Islands mystery Marie DalgetyPottinger Press First published in New Zealand in 2023 by Pottinger PressCopyright © Marie Dalgety 2023The right of Marie Dalgety to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Act 1994. Cover image © The Cover Collection All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.A catalogue record for this title is available from the National Library of NZPaperback ISBN 978-0-473-67504-2eBook ISBN 978-0-473-67505-9 Contents Dedication 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 Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Chapter Twenty-six Chapter Twenty-seven Chapter Twenty-eight Chapter Twenty-nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-one Chapter Thirty-two Chapter Thirty-three Chapter Thirty-four Chapter Thirty-five Chapter Thirty-six Chapter Thirty-seven Chapter Thirty-eight Chapter Thirty-nine Chapter Forty Author notes Acknowledgments About the author For MathewWho believes in going after what you want. Chapter OneThere are three things I can sniff out better than anybody else I know: opportunities, food, and trouble. I hoped the present scent in my nostrils was that of the former.People were still entering the town hall, clogging up the space around the entranceway as they bumped into neighbours and acquaintances. Some were seated already, passing around flasks of hot tea or whisky bottles, depending upon the inclination of those at each table. A group of children played tag near the stage, shrieking and yelling, their shoes squeaking on the wooden floorboards, their mothers trying to chat nearby. It was a jovial atmosphere all round. Of course, they were all here to discuss a legendary treasure, so who wouldn’t be jovial under such circumstances?Even the mayor of the Chattering Islands, Red Henry, was excited. Well, I assume he was anyway. That’s the only reason I could think of for why he would leave the door to his offices unlocked just now.I stifled a giggle of glee. Five months I’d been waiting for the opportunity to get back into those offices, and now the man had all but gifted me my chance.I pressed myself against the back wall of the hall. My eyes tracked the lean, craggy figure of the mayor as he wove his way towards the stage, past the table where his wife and fellow councillors were already seated. His offices were housed in an annex off the town hall, and the two buildings were linked by a door set into the back corner to my right. I’d been into those offices often, in happier times. Before ‘The Incident’ back in autumn. Before I’d been banned.I slid towards the office door. Lanterns hung in their sconces above me, their dancing shadows making the crowd seem even larger. Half the town must have been present. There was Mother Tavi, and there was Emmett Rutledge, and… golly, was that my little brother? I squinted, confirming Tomas was indeed in attendance, slouching against the left-hand wall beside two unsavoury men. I knew who those men were, and I was not happy about seeing Tomas in their company.Humph. I would need to speak to him about them later.I checked back on Red Henry and watched him climb up onto the stage. He hadn’t spotted me. Only a few more paces to go—A man peeled off from a nearby group, stepping into my path and glaring down at me. Bernard Hutch, Fingerless Point’s foremost baker, and owner of the most magnificent singular eyebrow I had ever seen. It stretched right across his face, looking rather like the silhouette of an albatross backlit against the sky, and he wore it over one of those foreheads that bulged so much one had to assume he’d sprained it. A fascinating face all round. Terrible shame it belonged to a racist.Bernard Hutch didn’t like me. By which I mean, he didn’t like anyone who’d had the misfortune of being born a Bleaker, and, given I had both been born and spent my formative years on Isle Bleak, it seemed I met his criteria. I forced myself to move my gaze down to his eyes—no mean feat, when faced with such a domineering brow—and plastered a pleasant smile on my face. “Good evening, Mr Hutch. Lovely night to be out and about, isn’t it? Still a bit of a chill in the air, but I could have sworn I smelled the scent of flowers on the breeze on my way here, and if that isn’t a sign of good things to come, then I don’t know what is.” I gave him another grin, as well as a few innocent eyelash flutters, as he continued to frown down at me.I persevered. “Are you looking forward to the presentation?” I gave a nod towards the stage, where Red Henry was adjusting two mahogany and velvet armchairs alongside a small table set with whisky tumblers and ashtrays. “I suspect this lot are just another bunch of would-be adventurers thinking they’re going to stumble their way onto the treasure, but it’s always fun to watch their misplaced optimism, is it not? Say—” I turned back to him, feigning a thoughtful look. “If you’re interested in the real story of the Hanging Rainbow mystery, how about you come along and join one of my tours sometime?” I gave him a wink. “I’ll even give you a discounted rate. For friends only.”I don’t know