Death in Zanzibar by M. M. Kaye

died, and she simply runs everything.’
    â€˜Does your brother live much in Zanzibar?’ asked Larry, steering the conversation firmly back to Tyson Frost.
    â€˜Not really. He’s such a restless person. Always on the move. He only lives in it by fits and starts. Asks some of his friends there, and then off he goes again. I’ve always thought it was such a romantic thing to have a house in Zanzibar, but Tyson never really stays in it very long.’
    â€˜Probably finds it jolly uncivilized,’ said Miss Bates. ‘Romance is all very well, but give me H. and C. every time! I always say there’s absolutely nothing to beat “All Mod. Cons”.’
    â€˜I’m afraid Millicent doesn’t care for foreign travel,’ confided Gussie Bingham in an undertone to Dany. ‘She detests the East. And she misses the Institute and the Girl Guides and things like that. She has so many interests: a tower of strength. Our vicar often says that he doesn’t know how Market-Lydon would get on without her, and I’m sure she agrees with him. Oh! I didn’t mean — that sounds unkind of me. What I meant ____ ’
    But Dany had ceased to pay attention, for the words ‘Market-Lydon’ had brought a chill to the hot day. Man Murdered at Market-Lydon  … But it wasn’t just ‘a man’. It was elderly, pedantic, disapproving Mr Honeywood. And since Mr Honeywood had been the Frost family’s solicitor for at least two generations, he was almost certainly Mrs Bingham’s too. She would have known him well. Did she know he was now dead? Even if she did, the news of his death could not possibly have shocked her half as badly as it had shocked Dany, who had only met him once and very briefly.
    Larry Dowling was saying: ‘Does your brother often entertain like this when he is in Zanzibar, Mrs Bingham? Or is this a special occasion?’
    â€˜Oh, I don’t think it was my brother’s idea at all. He’s not really very sociable when he’s writing, and I believe he is supposed to be working on a book just now. But his wife likes to have the house full of guests. I suppose she gets bored when he’s writing all day. And then of course…’
    Mrs Bingham’s voice went on and on, and Larry Dowling listened with flattering attention, interjecting interested, incredulous or congratulatory noises whenever the flow showed signs of drying up. He was evidently as good a listener as he was a talker thought Dany uneasily. A very likeable man — but a dangerous one …
    She said with forced lightness, breaking into the bubbling stream of confidences: ‘Mr Dowling is a newspaper man, you know.’
    But if she had intended this as a warning, it missed its mark.
    Larry Dowling threw her a brief, quizzical grin that was strangely disconcerting, and although Miss Bates turned sharply and regarded him as though he were something she had unexpectedly turned up with a garden spade, Gussie Bingham, far from being taken aback, was enchanted.
    â€˜A reporter? But how interesting!’
    â€˜Feature writer,’ corrected Mr Dowling patiently.
    â€˜The same sort of thing, surely?’ said Gussie Bingham blithely. ‘You must live such an exciting life. Fires and murders and film stars. Paris today and Bangkok tomorrow. How I envy you! Of course Tyson — my brother — knows a great many newspapermen. He says they are the lowest form of human ____ Oh, I am sorry. That was very rude of me. I really didn’t mean … I am quite sure he would like you, Mr Dowling.’
    Miss Bates sniffed audibly and muttered something about carrion crows and snooping nosey-parkers, and Mrs Bingham frowned repressively at her, and taking Mr Dowling’s arm, walked on ahead, chatting energetically and leaving Miss Bates to fall in beside Dany.
    â€˜I’m sure I’ve seen that chap before somewhere,’ said Miss Bates,