So Much For Buckingham: The Camilla Randall Mysteries #5 by Anne R. Allen Page A
Book: So Much For Buckingham: The Camilla Randall Mysteries #5 by Anne R. Allen
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Authors: Anne R. Allen
Tags: camilla, rom-com mystery
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and typed at my laptop.
"I haven't seen any mainstream media for days," he said over his shoulder. "I rushed up here when I heard from Vera about how you'd set off the review police....What have you heard about this thing in London?"
I was tired of the reminders of my review faux pas , but decided to ignore it. There were much more serious things at hand.
"Read The Guardian . They have the most sensible coverage," I said. "They think it was an accident. But other people say it was a bomb. And Plant won't return my calls. I saw him on TV, talking about Richard III . A clip from the BBC News."
"Richard III?" Peter's face lost all his British calm. "Your friend Plantagenet? The screenwriter? He was talking about Richard III?"
"Yes. The accident—or whatever it was—happened during the Kevin Spacey production of Richard III. At the Old Vic. Plant had been looking forward to it for months. And he had to go alone, even though it was supposed to be his honeymoon, because Silas is being a complete idiot about my engagement to Plant a hundred years ago. Plus my former lawyer came to the wedding and he's some buffed New Age guru now, so he and Silas ran off to Maui.... And I couldn't go with Plant to London because I was so devastated about Ronzo. Of course that was before I knew about the kittens... "
I stopped myself. I realized I probably wasn't making sense. Peter wasn't listening anyway. I went back to the kitchen, picked up my untouched cognac and took a sip.
It hit the spot after all.
" The Guardian is dead wrong." Peter tapped at my laptop's keys. "It was a bomb. I'm sure of it. These people have been threatening it for months. Pradeep was sure it was simply Internet blather, but I'm afraid he was wrong, too."
I felt a chill. All the anxiety I'd been fighting came rushing back. I tried to reassure myself as I took another sip and went back to the desk.
"Plant looked all right on TV. He was talking to reporters. There was some dust on his tuxedo, but otherwise, he looked fine. Although he didn't make a lot of sense."
Peter kept tapping. Somehow he managed to pull up the video of Plant.
I stood behind him in silence as it played.
"I suppose he may be in a hospital somewhere," I said, hoping to break the tension. "Should I try calling hospitals? I remember the hospital where they took the wounded was called Chelsea and something. Of course, he's probably perfectly fine and on his way to Swynsby..."
"Swynsby-on-Trent?" Peter turned and looked me full in the face. His eyes got scary. "Your friend is going to Swynsby? After saying that about Richard's burial? Good god, whatever for?"
"To see the Sherwood people, of course. About my royalties. I haven't been paid, you know." Now he had me seriously frightened. "Do you know something about what's happened to him?"
"No, but I know what's going to happen to him. You need to get hold of him now."
"Why?"
"He's in terrible danger. You saw what these people are capable of. Tell him he must not under any circumstances go to Swynsby."
Chapter 28—Plantagenet
––––––––
P lant stood and tried to give the disapproving nun-like woman a friendly smile.
"I'm so glad you warned me. Being a werewolf would be awfully inconvenient, wouldn't it? Actually, I'm not the one who picked the monkshood..."
She gave him a skeptical look.
"It's just the sort of herb garden they would have grown in Richard's day. We try to keep things historically authentic."
The woman had the air of a person in charge. Maybe she could help find Vera.
"I don't suppose you know someone named Vera Winchester, do you?" Plant felt silly as soon as the words came out. "She used to work as the office manager at the publishing company a few blocks from here. Sherwood, Ltd."
"Sherwood? The place that publishes smutty books? I wouldn't know anybody there." The woman shook her head and pursed her lips. "I did hear about some bad business over there. Hooligans from West Yorkshire, they said. Made
"I haven't seen any mainstream media for days," he said over his shoulder. "I rushed up here when I heard from Vera about how you'd set off the review police....What have you heard about this thing in London?"
I was tired of the reminders of my review faux pas , but decided to ignore it. There were much more serious things at hand.
"Read The Guardian . They have the most sensible coverage," I said. "They think it was an accident. But other people say it was a bomb. And Plant won't return my calls. I saw him on TV, talking about Richard III . A clip from the BBC News."
"Richard III?" Peter's face lost all his British calm. "Your friend Plantagenet? The screenwriter? He was talking about Richard III?"
"Yes. The accident—or whatever it was—happened during the Kevin Spacey production of Richard III. At the Old Vic. Plant had been looking forward to it for months. And he had to go alone, even though it was supposed to be his honeymoon, because Silas is being a complete idiot about my engagement to Plant a hundred years ago. Plus my former lawyer came to the wedding and he's some buffed New Age guru now, so he and Silas ran off to Maui.... And I couldn't go with Plant to London because I was so devastated about Ronzo. Of course that was before I knew about the kittens... "
I stopped myself. I realized I probably wasn't making sense. Peter wasn't listening anyway. I went back to the kitchen, picked up my untouched cognac and took a sip.
It hit the spot after all.
" The Guardian is dead wrong." Peter tapped at my laptop's keys. "It was a bomb. I'm sure of it. These people have been threatening it for months. Pradeep was sure it was simply Internet blather, but I'm afraid he was wrong, too."
I felt a chill. All the anxiety I'd been fighting came rushing back. I tried to reassure myself as I took another sip and went back to the desk.
"Plant looked all right on TV. He was talking to reporters. There was some dust on his tuxedo, but otherwise, he looked fine. Although he didn't make a lot of sense."
Peter kept tapping. Somehow he managed to pull up the video of Plant.
I stood behind him in silence as it played.
"I suppose he may be in a hospital somewhere," I said, hoping to break the tension. "Should I try calling hospitals? I remember the hospital where they took the wounded was called Chelsea and something. Of course, he's probably perfectly fine and on his way to Swynsby..."
"Swynsby-on-Trent?" Peter turned and looked me full in the face. His eyes got scary. "Your friend is going to Swynsby? After saying that about Richard's burial? Good god, whatever for?"
"To see the Sherwood people, of course. About my royalties. I haven't been paid, you know." Now he had me seriously frightened. "Do you know something about what's happened to him?"
"No, but I know what's going to happen to him. You need to get hold of him now."
"Why?"
"He's in terrible danger. You saw what these people are capable of. Tell him he must not under any circumstances go to Swynsby."
Chapter 28—Plantagenet
––––––––
P lant stood and tried to give the disapproving nun-like woman a friendly smile.
"I'm so glad you warned me. Being a werewolf would be awfully inconvenient, wouldn't it? Actually, I'm not the one who picked the monkshood..."
She gave him a skeptical look.
"It's just the sort of herb garden they would have grown in Richard's day. We try to keep things historically authentic."
The woman had the air of a person in charge. Maybe she could help find Vera.
"I don't suppose you know someone named Vera Winchester, do you?" Plant felt silly as soon as the words came out. "She used to work as the office manager at the publishing company a few blocks from here. Sherwood, Ltd."
"Sherwood? The place that publishes smutty books? I wouldn't know anybody there." The woman shook her head and pursed her lips. "I did hear about some bad business over there. Hooligans from West Yorkshire, they said. Made
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