Two
The ancient city of Wells lay before her, with the Cathedral dominating the skyline. Six hundred saintly stone eyes watched as Belinda entered the market place. Ahead she saw Hazel engaged in conversation with a sign-writer, while workmen carefully unloaded a few pieces of antique furniture. Hazel had taken a lease on this shop in Wells to handle the Jacobean, Elizabethan and Georgian furniture exclusively, keeping her small shop in Bath for her silver and bric-a-brac.
Parking her car, Belinda hurried to her friend. The sign-writer turned his attention to Hazel’s window and set about practising his gilded craft.
‘He’s been murdered!’
Hazel’s at