Tag Archives: mystery

The Tale of the Mad Gorgon Part Two

…continuing the mystery of Captain Redheart’s Treasure (catch up on the first episode here: Mystery Tour ) : 

Ezrard Bagshott fairly bounded into the dining room at breakfast, rubbing his hands in glee. Something was entertaining him to the utmost, and his house guests, made up of impecunious friends and relatives, looked up apprehensively. Was he any closer to finding the lost treasure after all – and, most importantly, would he share it with any of them?
He sat down at the head of the table and took in his audience: James Derelict, one of his many nephews, also his secretary and all round factotum; William Nunctious, another nephew, keen on wine and women, often in ‘a bit of a scrape’ as he would put it; Abigail, Ezrard’s niece, a total flapper, constantly making herself up; Horatio Hubble, art historian and antiquarian, with a beady eye on some of Ezrard’s choicer possessions; Roderick Upton, a third nephew, clubber, lounger, amusing if indolent; Eugene Orb, man about town and at present demolishing a tidy plateful of sausages; and at the opposite end of the table, Ezrard’s widowed sister, Laetitia Wellbegone, poking dubiously at her scrambled egg.
Ezrard nodded and chuckled, and demanded fresh toast.
He took marmalade, he took butter, he gloated over it melting on the toast, the soft yellow and the golden orange chunks of marmalade; those watching closely could not help but imagine he was gloating over piles of gold coins and rubies…
‘You are particularly cheerful this morning, Ezrard,’ remarked his sister, finally echoing everyone’s thoughts.
‘Indeed, indeed I am,’ he replied, pouring himself tea. He gazed around the table, mischievously.
‘Well I’ve done it !’ he said, and nearly choked on his own laughter. ‘I’ve solved it !’ Everyone knew what he meant. Everyone save for Laetitia who merely shrugged and nibbled at her bacon.
‘Now then, toast and marmalade is all very well – but where are my devilled kidneys?!’
He leapt to his feet and helped himself from the sideboard.
‘So, uncle,’ began Abigail, when Ezrard had re-seated himself, ‘are you going to tell us how you did it ?
‘Did what? Eh?’
‘Oh, don’t tease, uncle, – how did you find the treasure?’ Abigail pouted. Ezrard gave her a look in which secrecy and mischief were equally divided. ‘All in good time, m’dear, all in good time…Or one of you might like to get there before me…’
So he had solved the puzzle – but not yet taken the treasure ? There were not a few at table who did not make a secret plan to watch his every move from then on in…However, they did not watch carefully enough, for a few hours later there was a rushing of feet, a pounding on doors and frantic calls made on the telephone, while Ezrard lay in his library, groaning in exquisite agony…

Ezrard was kept to his bed for several days afterwards, the doctor suggested a diet of water, bread, a little porridge and occasional mouthful of chicken.
‘A nasty attack of bile, I would suggest he keep off the rich food and so on for a while yet – vegetables, soups, a little walk each day,’ prescribed the doctor to Laetitia. ‘Well, I wish you’d tell him that yourself – you know what foolish notions he has in his head now, I suppose?’ she replied.
The doctor raised an eyebrow.’Notions?’
‘Yes, notions. He is convinced he was poisoned !’
The doctor did his best to reassure her and his patient, but left them a little thoughtfully and asked downstairs whether anything had been left over from breakfast. Of course, everything had by then been cleared away and disposed of; ’But we could rustle you up some eggs and toast if you’re peckish,’ said the maid, quite mistaking his intent.

breakfast filled




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Favourite Quote


Here’s one of my favourite quotes from B.Lloyd’s Greenwood Tree:

‘It may well be that being unused to country living my temper has in some way been affected; I almost hesitate to describe the feelings of horror I have experienced since my arrival in this place, which have grown upon me increasingly over the last few days – this feeling was hardly alleviated by our visit to the clearing, and might explain the distinct impression I had of being observed by some person or persons unseen. This impression grew so strong that I was almost convinced I saw the figure of a man in green slipping away between the trees on the opposite side of the glade …’



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Celebrating The Green Man


B. Lloyd’s mystery Greenwood Tree has sent me on a Green Man search. Here a a few from Beverley Minster in Yorkshire – only a few, the place is full of them.


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The Green Man Cometh

I’ve just read a wonderful new mystery, Greenwood Tree by B. Lloyd. If you like them laced with the supernatural and legend, you’ll love this.

‘Well, what do all mysteries have?’ said Aunt Isobel. ‘Money, mistresses, and murder.’

1783 – and Lichfield society is enthralled by the arrival of dashing ex-officer Orville; he charms his way into the salons, grand houses and even a great inheritance from extrovert Sir Morton.

1927 – and detective writer Julia Warren returns to her home in Lichfield to work on her next novel. Initially she hopes to find plot material from the past and set it in the present. Aunt Isobel, while making preparations for the annual midsummer ball, has managed to root out an old journal from 1783 which might prove a source of inspiration. Once Julia starts reading her ancestor’s journal she becomes absorbed in solving the mystery surrounding officer Orville. Detective fever takes over, and she moves from reality to legend as events from the past seem set to re-enact themselves in the present, and she finds herself unravelling more than just the one mystery. Who was Orville? Who was the agent, Oddman, set to spy on him? And who is helpful Mr Grenall ?

Pagan gods don’t walk away just because you stop looking at them. The Gronny Patch sleeps. Perhaps it dreams. Or perhaps not …

A complex, multi-layered story unlike any other, full of whimsy, horror, and mystery, shifting between the centuries and from source to source, until all the threads are finally drawn together by the imperturbable Miss Warren.


A Bustle attached to a keyboard, occasionally to be seen floating on a canal …
After studying Early Music in Italy followed by a brief career in concert performance, the Bustle exchanged vocal parts for less vocal arts i.e. a Diploma from the Accademia di Belle Arti di Venezia.
Her inky mess, both graphic and verbal, can be found in various regions of the Web, and appendaged to good people’s works (for no visible reason that she can understand).
At present exploring the mysteries of Northumberland, although if there is a place she could call true home, it would be Venice…while the fields of Waterloo hold a certain resonance for her as well…
More here :
& here :
For those who enjoy Twittery:
Do drop by @AuthorsAnon
as she enjoys a chat
(Warning: Please expect occasional bouts of nonsense).

Author links :
On About me : http://about.me/B.Lloyd
(contains blog, web, social media links)
On Twitter: @AuthorsAnon
Amazon UK (pre-order) (hardcover) http://www.amazon.co.uk/Greenwood-Tree-B-Lloyd/dp/1909374563
(paperback) http://www.amazon.co.uk/Greenwood-Tree-B-Lloyd/dp/1909374571/ref=tmm_pap_title_0
Amazon US (pre-order) paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Greenwood-Tree-B-Lloyd/dp/1909374571/ref=tmm_pap_title_0
Waterstones: http://www.waterstones.com/waterstonesweb/products/b-+lloyd/greenwood+tree/9610637/
Pre-order page on the publisher’s website : http://www.greycellspress.co.uk/pre-order-our-titles/


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