A Murder Shall Commence.

Chapter 3

"What time were you up till?" he asked, a slight hint of accusation in his tone.

"Half...two?" I replied, trying to seem as innocent as possible. Newham tutted, standing up and pouring me a cup of tea.

"I'd tell you off, if you hadn't solved that wretched puzzle" he commented. "But as it stands, you did, so I'll have to join the ranks of awed fans you seem to aquire everywhere you go."

He presented my cup with a theatrical flourish, and I gave a little derisive snort and took it firmly from him.

"Fisher says there's showers and hot water on the fourth floor" Newham carried on, sitting down on the coffee table as I attempted to move from my incredibly comdy position, decided better of it, and stayed put, with my feet hanging over the side of the armchair.

"Is there anything Scotland Yard doesn't do?" I asked jokingly. Newham was about to reply, but was interrupted by the reappearance of Fisher and Isabel.

"Breakfast!" Fisher announced, as he dumped a huge basket onto his desk. Fresh-bakery smell wafted out from it, and Newham sat up, as did I.

"Bread, jam, butter, pastries, the lot" Isabel added brightly. "Because despite providing endless supplies of tea and coffee, Scotland Yard do not serve breakfast!"

"It was on the tip of my tongue" Newham murmured quietly. It took me a second to work out he was carrying on from our previous conversation. I laughed.

"I also bought you one of these, Allie" Isabel added, throwing a small brown paper package at my head, which I caught. (I caught the package, not my head)

"Don't tell me" I smiled, opening it and wincing as, due to its impromptu flight across Fisher's office, the pain au chocolat Isabel had bought was now spouting chocolat left right and centre.

I shrugged and began to scoop the chocolate lake off the paper with my fingers. Chocolate was chocolate, in my divine opinion.

"Allie!" Isabel groaned.

"What?" I asked indignantly. "You split it! I'm just cleaning up the mess!"

Isabel rolled her eyes. She knew she could never win with me. She, Newham, Fisher (and I, once I had finished my pain au chocolat) dug into the basket of goodies Fisher had brought, and settled down to stare at the new riddle that had been put out for us.

Inside the Pearly Church, find a Blue Bull. He is the property of the man with the answer.

"What's the obsession with religious stuff all about?" Newham asked bluntly.

"I don't know" Isabel sighed thoughtfully.

"I think it's just the riddle" I mused.

"Do...do you reckon the Blue Bull is a tavern or hotel of some kind?" Fisher said suddenly. "W-with the owner of it being the man we need to talk to?"

"Where did you get that from?" Isabel asked, sounding surprised.

"I...I don't know" Fisher admitted. "The word 'property' just put me in mind of buildings, I guess."

"Hold that thought, Fisher" I said quickly.

"Right..." the Inspector wavered.

"Because I was just thinking, what if 'pearly' and 'church' are both synonyms?" I asked the room.

"Making the real word..." Newham prompted.

"Whitechapel" I smiled.

There were a few awkward looks around.

"They want us to go to Whitechapel?" Fisher asked worriedly. Whitechapel was part of the poorer districts of London, and although we were only middle class, we still weren't welcome there. It was undoubtedly dangerous.

"They do" Newham added dryly. "But we can't. We wouldn't last half an hour."

"Not necessarily" Isabel muttered craftily.

"Izzy?" I asked.

"Allie, you know the old theatre, across the street from us?" my sister said slowly. I nodded.

"Can you...still fit in that back window, do you reckon?"

I latched on to where she was going.

"You're saying...we disguise ourselves, Izzy? With the old costumes from the theatre?"

"Almost" Isabel replied. "I think I might opt out of this one myself, but you three are welcome to go."

"Wise...wise choice, Izzy" Fisher sighed. "I don't think I really get the option to opt out."

"True" I beamed, heading for the door, Newham and the Inspector behind me."Someone's got to keep me out of trouble."