by Lee Strauss
Lady Gold Investigates ~ Volume 1
companion short stories to Ginger Gold Mysteries
Lee Strauss
Contents
Summary
The Case of the Vanishing Boy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
The Case of the Missing Fox Stole
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Ginger Gold’s Journal
About the Authors
Books by Lee Strauss
Summary
Ginger Gold has opened her own private investigation office!
This short story companion series to Ginger Gold Mysteries has the clever Mrs. Ginger Reed, aka Lady Gold, and her adventurous sister-in-law Felicia taking on clients who've got all sorts of troubles. This first volume consists of The Case of the Boy who Vanished and The Case of the Missing Fox Stole.
A companion series to Ginger Gold Mysteries, each volume is approximately 20 thousand words or 80 pages. A bite size read perfect for a transit commute home, time spent waiting at an appointment, or to settle into sleep at night. Get your coffee, tea or glass of wine and snuggle in!
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Clean read: no graphic violence, sex, or strong language.
Genre: dog cozy mystery series/historical mystery/female amateur sleuth/British detective mystery.
THE GINGER GOLD MYSTERY SERIES
Murder on the SS Rosa (Book 1)
Murder at Hartigan House (Book 2)
Murder at Bray Manor (Book 3)
Murder at Feathers & Flair (Book 4)
Murder at the Mortuary (Book 5)
Murder at Kensington Gardens (Book 6)
Murder at st. George’s Church (Book 7)
The Wedding of Ginger & Basil (Book 7.5)
Murder Aboard the Flying Scotsman (Book 8)
Murder at the Boat Club (Book 9)
Murder on Eaton Square (Book 10)
~more coming soon!
The Case of the Vanishing Boy
Chapter One
The black and cream cradle telephone that sat on the counter of Ginger’s Regent Street dress shop rang just as Ginger stepped inside. Madame Roux, her efficient shop manager, was busy with a customer—a tall, aristocratic-looking lady with a penchant for Schiaparelli.
She removed her gloves and placed them and her handbag behind the counter, then picked up the receiver and sang into it, “Good morning, Feathers and Flair. How may I help you?”
“Ginger?”
“Oliver!” She immediately recognised the voice of her friend Reverend, Oliver Hill.
“Yes. It’s so good to hear your voice. I hope you’re well.”
“I’m doing quite well, thank you.” Ginger was genuinely pleased to hear from the gentle vicar, though she was rather curious as to why he would seek her out at her shop. “I hope things are well with you too. Do tell me how things are at the church?”
One of the joys in Ginger’s life was the Child Wellness Project that she had initiated with Oliver. The charity’s main focus was feeding nutritious meals to street children twice a week, at the hall of St. George’s Church.
“Everything is running as smoothly as can be expected. Numbers are up, and so are donations. We continue to have sufficient volunteers to help serve and cook the meals for the project, and lately there have even been some food donations from bakeries and grocers. I am quite encouraged.”
“Oh, that is wonderful!”
“However, I have a concern that perhaps you can help with.”
“Of course.” Ginger retrieved a pencil and paper from under the counter. Finally, to the mystery behind Oliver’s call.
“There is a young boy named Eddie, nine years old. I don’t know his last name but he has been coming for meals for a quite a while now.”
“The blond lad with the chipped front tooth?” Ginger asked. “Such an adorable youngster. I have had several amusing conversations with him. Boss just simply adores him. In fact they have become good friends.” The child reminded her of Scout, her ward who had once lived on the streets. Scout was now a much-loved member of her household at Hartigan House, and though it had initially taken some adjustment for everyone, taking him in was something she had never come to regret. It was always inspiring to her how many of these young street children had such bright personalities and charm despite their sad circumstances in life. It broke Ginger’s heart to see their innocence eroded much too early by the harshness of their existence.
“Yes, that’s the one,” Oliver replied. “Quite a bright young lad and very friendly. Some of the ladies who serve food are rather taken with him and have got to know him a little.”
Ginger’s heart pinched with worry. “Has something happened to Eddie?”
“It seems that he has gone missing.”
“Oh mercy. Can you meet me right away at my office at Lady Gold Investigations? I want to give this my full attention until we find him again.”
Oliver’s answer was resolute. “I can be there in half an hour.”
Chapter Two
Ginger walked from Feathers & Flair to the office around the corner on Watson Street and stepped inside, after first pausing outside the door to admire the new lettering: Lady Gold Investigations. The paint was barely dry and it seemed they might already have their first case.
Inside, the walls were papered with a beige and gold design, and there was a plush red rug on the wooden floor. The windows allowed in natural lighting and the whole place had a classy, yet business-like atmosphere. There were wine-coloured leather chairs there for clients to sit on that faced Ginger’s walnut desk. There was also a small kitchen, a tastefully designed lavatory, and a dark room for developing photographs just down the corridor.
Felicia, Ginger’s younger sister-in-law, had arrived earlier and had brought fresh scones from a bakery. When Ginger had first announced that she wanted to open an investigative office, Felicia had asked if she too could be part of the team. At first, Ginger had been slightly hesitant. She loved Felicia dearly, and since moving to London from Boston over a year before, they had become closer, almost as if they were real sisters. But she wasn’t sure Felicia would be focused enough to be a part of an investigative team. Ginger’s initial hesitancy had disappeared almost immediately when she observed how serious Felicia was, and the energy with which she threw herself into the work.
“Hello, Felicia. Oh, good,” Ginger said referring to the scones. “Oliver shall be here presently. I’m afraid a waif is unaccounted for, and Oliver is concerned for his well-being. I’ve promised to help locate him.”
Felicia’s fingers paused over the tall keys of her black Remington typewriter—she wrote mystery stories when work at the office was slow—and got to her feet. “I’ll make some tea.”
Boss, Ginger’s Boston terrier, whose small wicker bed was tucked behind Ginger’s desk, popped his head up, alerted to the raised energy in the room. He stood and stretched out his back legs. Ginger reached down to give him a pat. She’d dropped him off earlier, before checking on matters at the dress shop, and he had obviously missed her in that short time.
Oliver arrived just as the kettle reached a boil. The bell above the door jangled and his lanky figure came through the small waiting area into the open office space. He was dressed in his usual black, casual trousers and shirt with the white dog collar. He carried a small leather briefcase
and wore black shoes. His clerical garb contrasted with his slightly out-of-control carrot-coloured hair and his very fair skin. He was the only man Ginger knew who still had freckles despite being in his thirties. It gave him a certain boyish appearance that both Ginger and Felicia found very charming. Oliver and his wife, Matilda, were expecting a baby, and Ginger mused about what their child would look like. Would the babe be a redhead like its father, a trait Ginger shared, or dark like Matilda?
Ginger greeted Oliver with a warm handshake, then motioned to one of the leather chairs in front of her desk. “Please have a seat. Felicia’s made tea.”
“Oh, how do you do, Miss Gold?” Oliver said. “I hear you’ve been enjoying your new work here.”
“I still help out at the dress shop when needed,” Felicia replied. She carried the tea tray to Ginger’s desk and distributed the saucers and teacups. “But I have more time to write whilst working here.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Oliver said. “You’re a published author now!”
Felicia flushed a little as she added milk to each cup, then poured the tea.
“Well, nothing’s been published yet. Not until next year, they tell me.”
“Publishing is notoriously slow,” Ginger added.
Once they’d added sugar and settled in, Ginger turned the subject to the missing child.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much money in the church treasury to pay for your troubles, Ginger, but I am hoping you might use your connections to make some enquiries for me on this matter.”
“Oh, bish-bosh!” admonished Ginger. “I think you know me better than that! I shall spare no expense and give my full devotion to this until we discover the whereabouts of the boy. Neither you nor the church is going to spend one farthing paying any fee to me.”
“My dear, I did suspect you would react this way,” Oliver said with a smile. “But propriety dictates that I mention it anyway.”
“Of course,” Ginger replied. “Consider it mentioned.”
“The boy has not shown up for any meals for several weeks now, which is highly unusual. The children that come for these meals almost always come back week after week. In addition, some of his closest mates have not seen him during that whole time,” Oliver said. He removed a piece of sketch paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and laid it on the table. “This is a drawing of the boy.”
“Why, that is amazing!” Felicia said. “Wherever did you get this?”
“One of the lads, a regular at the meals, is a very good artist, and he often sketches the other lads. He happened to do this sketch of Eddie the last time Eddie was at the church.”
Both Ginger and Felicia stared at the drawing in astonishment.
“This really is a strikingly good resemblance,” Ginger said. “It could be a big help. Composite drawings like this are often used by police these days to track down criminals or, as in this case, missing children. We should get a few copies made of this, Felicia. I believe there is a photostat office just around the corner from here.”
Felicia collected the drawing. “I shall do.”
“Tell us what you know of the boy’s background, Oliver.” Ginger said.
Oliver let out a long breath. “Well, I only know a little bit and details are scarce, but from what I can piece together from talking to the various children, it seems to be the typical story. He was born to an unwed mother who lived in various workhouses, which, as you know, even in our modern era are nothing more than harsh places where people are punished just for being poor. People who are all God’s children, every one of them.”
Oliver took a sip of his tea and then continued. “The system is set up for humiliation. Families are separated. The idea is that one should remove the children from their lazy parents—after all, why would you be poor unless you were lazy?”
Ginger was not used to hearing Oliver speak with such sarcasm. It was clear that he truly was bothered by the system.
“It’s impossible to break the cycle of poverty,” Oliver continued, “Ghastly idea, these workhouses. Any time spent in them as an adult is a stigma that clings to you forever.”
He bent forward, putting sharp elbows on his bony knees. “Anyway, Eddie’s mother grew ill and died when Eddie was just a nipper and the young lad, having no siblings at all, was able to somehow live on the streets by begging or stealing, as they do, or sometimes working and living at a workhouse. Apparently, he had some short stays in an orphanage, but they are constantly at capacity and many times children cannot stay there for long. Wintertime on the streets or even in a workhouse is especially desperate when it gets perishing cold. Eddie began showing up at St. George’s for meals a few months ago, and quickly become a favourite among favourites, so to speak.”
“Have you asked some of his chums if they know anything?” Felicia asked.
“Yes, we’ve all been asking. No one seems to know anything, or if they do, they’re not talking. His mates all say that he simply disappeared from his usual haunts and street corners. It’s very strange and it distresses me greatly.”
Ginger waited for Oliver to take another drink of tea, giving him a chance to collect his emotions. Eddie’s disappearance had affected her friend far more than he’d let on during their telephone call.
“Would you like a scone?” Felicia offered.
Oliver smiled weakly, then shook his head. “I’ve quite lost my appetite at the moment, but thank you.”
“How about the possibility that some long-lost relatives of his mother have somehow learned about him and his whereabouts and have come to claim him?” Ginger asked.
“There is always that possibility,” Oliver conceded, “but the chance seems to be very remote after all these years. Any relatives would have surely turned up years ago, I would think, when the news of the mother’s death eventually reached them.”
“There are a lot of places to look,” Ginger said, endeavouring to sound hopeful. “Felicia and I can split up to double our efforts.”
“Good idea,” added Felicia.
Oliver stood and placed his hat back on his head. “In the meantime, I’ll keep asking the children who come in to the meals and make sure copies of this sketch are posted prominently in our hall. It also won’t hurt for us all to start praying in earnest, I think. There are so many nasty nooks and crannies in this massive city into which a little boy could disappear. Let’s hope and pray the lad has not met with some skulduggery of some kind.”
A small growl escaped Boss’ lips.
The thought of nine-year-old Eddie alone on the streets of cold London, running into trouble with some low-minded, unscrupulous character, made Ginger’s heart twist in her chest.
“God protect him,” she said.
Chapter Three
Ginger rang the number of Scotland Yard and asked to speak to Chief Inspector Basil Reed.
“Oliver’s been in to see me,” she said, and then proceeded to explain the situation of the missing boy.
“Nasty business, Ginger,” Basil added. “I’ll do what I can to help, of course. But you do know that dozens of children go missing every day in our city, and while it’s regrettable, I can’t devote much of our already stretched resources to this in any official capacity.”
“I suspected that already,” Ginger said with a sigh, “but I would be grateful if you could check for me to see if any bodies that match Eddie’s description have come to the police’s attention in the last couple of weeks.”
“Not that I know of, but I’ll confirm it.”
“Thank you, love.”
“Since you have seen the boy and know his face, you could check with Dr. Gupta at the mortuary. Take a copy of your composite sketch with you to show him.”
Ginger had already thought of this.
“Also, it would be good to bring several photostats to our main office,” Basil continued. “I think I can at least hang one on the main notice board here and send it to some of our other administrative locations. You never know if one of
our constables has come across the boy.”
“Thank you, Basil” Ginger said. “I’ll send Felicia over when she has the photostat copies done.”
“This one is close to your heart, isn’t it, my dear?” Basil said in a gentle voice.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice tinged with emotion. Basil knew how fond she was of Scout, and he’d begun to share her tender feelings for the boy.
“I have every confidence in you, of course,” he said. “You are without a doubt the best person in all of London to be looking for this young lad.”
Ginger hung up the telephone, dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief, and looked down at Boss, who was staring up at her from his basket. He emitted a low whimper and wagged his stumpy tail back and forth.
“C’mon, Boss,” Ginger said. “There’s no time for dilly-dallying now, is there?” She put on her hat and gloves. “Time to pay a visit to the good Dr. Gupta.”
Chapter Four
Having struggled through busy London traffic, Ginger and Boss finally arrived at the office of Dr. Manu Gupta at the London Medical School for Women. She parked the motorcar, then took a moment to admire the red brick building of the institution that had produced such notable women as pioneering geneticist Julia Bell and Doctor Florence Barret.
Ginger approached the building with some trepidation. She didn’t relish the thought of discovering the body of the young boy here, nor would she welcome the task of delivering bad news to Oliver and the ladies who volunteered at the Child Wellness Project. She exhaled and straightened her shoulders before pulling open the door to the mortuary.