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272 Pages • 6” X 9” Paperback • ISBN: 978-1-935585-81-7 www.FireshipPress.com

The Second Book in the de Subermore

Historical Mystery Series

A lady in waiting to Queen Elizabeth I is murdered. Later, the Queen discovers some of her jewels are missing. These are obviously two unrelated events—or are they?

Sir Michael de Subermore, the Queen's sworn defender, and his ally, private investigator George Monty, are charged with solving both crimes. One by one, sus-pects are eliminated; and, unless another candidate is discovered, the Earl of Essex, with his increasingly na-ked ambition for the throne, stands alone as the guilty one. But is he?

To get to the bottom of things, Sir Michael must survive a shipwreck, being chained to the oars of a galley, a very strange naval battle, and several murder attempts. But even when he solves the mystery of the jewels, there is an additional problem he must resolve—and that problem involves treason at the highest levels.

Englandʼs most vigorous and colourful era is captured in this stirring tale of intrigue, treachery, and dedication to duty.

Chapter 1

The hour was late when Sir Michael de Subermore reached Whitehall palace and made his way to the quarters of Sir Robert Cecil, Queen Elizabeth’s Secretary of State. Ce-cil had been Michael’s sponsor at court; and despite the small body and hunched shoulder, Michael knew he was a formidable opponent to anyone who threatened the Queen.

To Michael’s surprise and pleasure, George Monty was there. Monty made a living as a private enquiry agent, but most of his time was spent in the service of the Secretary of State. He ate and drank too much and was fat, but a sharper mind could not be found in London. Both men greeted Mi-chael with relief.

“We have a problem,” said Cecil.” You and Monty work well together, which is why I summoned you so urgently.”

“Problem, sir?”

“A lady of the court, Isabella Duncan, was found dead in her bed this morning.”

“Hardly a momentous discovery, my lord. These things happen, even at court.”

- 1 -

Cecil glared at him. “She was murdered. At least it seems so.” He shook his head. “`Tis a bad thing when anyone is murdered, but within the Queen’s court!” Drawing a breath, he said, “I look to you two to discover the culprit with all possible speed. Keep me informed as you progress. And withal—” he held up a warning finger—“be cautious of whom you may inquire.” He nodded to the two men, and left.

“Well I hope you have more information than he has just given,” said Michael, then added, “ I am pleased to see you Goodman Monty.”

“And I you, my lord. I trust your honeymoon was all that you expected.”

Michael grinned. “There could have been none better.”

“And your lady? She is well?”

“Aye. Blossoming. And happy to be back in England, though `tis only a few hours.”

Michael ordered ale and food to be brought. Looking at Monty he said, “Will a platter of bread with venison and gravy be sufficient until lunch?” Monty smiled his apprecia-tion and the two waited until the food and drink were served and eaten. Then pulling his chair forward, Michael said, “Now tell me what you know.”

In the flickering light of table candles, the two heads moved closer. Covering a belch with his hand, Monty replied, “`Tis little enough I can tell you, Sir Michael. The corpse is one, Isabella Duncan. She has been on an extended stay at the palace, e’en though she is but a minor attendant to Her Majesty.”

“Her husband?”

“Sir Arthur Duncan. He is old and enfeebled. Not long for this world, I am told. He has remained at home in Salisbury.”

“She too is old then, I presume. I cannot recall her name. She must have come to the palace after Amelia and I de-parted.”

- 2 -

- 3 -

Monty shook his head. “The lady was not old, sir. Past the first flush of youth, mayhap, but blessed with the beauty that comes as one reaches the maturity of thirty years or more.”

“Attractive then.”

“Not a stunning beauty, but one, I am told, with certain allures which transcended mere good looks.”

“And she has been here without her husband for—how long?”

“About two months.”

“Think you this is a simple affair of the heart? A jilted suitor?”

“`Twill be for us to find out. It is indeed the most likely scenario.”

“Where is she now?”

“Where she was found this morning. The uproar was such that Sir Robert was sent for. He in turn sent for me. ‘You know more about this sort if thing than I,’ he said. I enquired when you would be returning.

“’Why? he asked.

“I told him. `My level of expertness is below the stairs, while Sir Michael can question at higher stations.'"

“’Then you are fortunate’, said Sir Robert. `Michael de Subermore returns today. I will summon him to report to me as soon as he reaches his home.’”

Monty spread his hands. “`Twas done and—here you are.” Michael wondered how Sir Robert knew of his return so closely. It was an indication of how far the Secretary of State’s fingers reached,

“Have you seen the body?” he asked

“Not yet. When Sir Robert wished us allied on this matter, I thought it best to wait until we could examine the scene together without prior influences.”

About the Author

David Glenn

David Glenn has been a professional musician, actor and singer. He started writing in Prince Edward Island, where he was playing Matthew in the long-running mu-sical version of Anne of Green Gables. Finding time on his hands, he put it to good use.

In 1999 he won the Canadian Authors Short Fiction award for a story titled Da Capo. Since then he has won other awards and published a number of articles and stories. In addition, David has recorded almost 400 books onto tape for the handicapped. He was runner-up for the prestigious TORGI award in 2001

David and his wife live outside Vancouver, British Columbia

Michael puckered his nose at the thought of viewing a body dead almost a day. Reading the look, Monty said, “I or-dered the door locked but the window opened. Also hing leaves to be strewn. It has been a brisk day. I do not think your nasal membraniums will be too assaulted.”

“Let’s to it then.”