A Sidecar Named Expire

Book 0: Briefcases

by Andrea Frazer

Genres: Short Stories; Cozy Mystery; Police Procedurals; Traditional Mysteries

Synopsis

The second of an occasional series of short stories covering the elapsed time between the books in The Falconer Files series. This story covers events that occur between the books 'Inkier than the Sword' and 'Pascal Passion' A young man and his girlfriend decide to celebrate their first St Valentine's Day together, with a cosy evening of cocktails at her house. But as the evening progresses,events don't go quite as Malcolm Standing planned. The next morning, DI Falconer and DS Carmichael are called in to try to sort out what really happened.

Release date: February 6, 2014

Publisher: Accent Press

Print pages: 58

Sample

Chapter One

14th February

I

‘Now, my cocktail starts with one-and-a-half measures of gin.’ There was a short glugging sound from round the angle of the L-shaped room, as Chelsea Fairfield began to mix the drinks with which they were going to celebrate their first St Valentine’s Day together.

They had only been an item for three weeks or so, but Malcolm Standing had been captivated by her since their first meeting, and had gladly accepted her invitation to spend this evening at her house, drinking cocktails together. He had high hopes of not going home at all tonight, and sprawled on the sofa in an ecstasy of expectation. Tonight would probably be the night!

‘One-and-a-half measures of Cointreau,’ her voice purred on, ‘and one-and-a-half measures of lemon juice. Shake,’ he discerned the quiet sloshing of the cocktail shaker being agitated, ‘and strain into a frosted glass, over ice. There! That’s my White Lady sorted. Now for your Sidecar.’

‘How come I don’t get to choose my own cocktail?’ he called out to her.

‘You can after the first one. I just thought a Sidecar was rather appropriate, as you ride a motorbike,’ she called in answer, and Malcolm could feel his whole body tingling in anticipation of the evening to come.

‘Right! A Sidecar. Bit of information for you here, my dear. This cocktail was originally created after the First World War, in ‘Harry’s Bar’ – the one in Paris, not the one in Venice, and was named after an officer who used to go there by chauffeur-ridden motorcycle sidecar. See what I mean?

‘And now for the ingredients. One measure of cognac, one measure of Cointreau, and one measure of lemon juice.’ As she shook the cocktail, he raised his voice to give his opinion of the two recipes.

‘Yours seems to be half as strong again as mine. Why’s that? It doesn’t seem fair to me.’

‘Just think about it, sweetie,’ she answered, and he heard her speaking in a slightly quieter voice. ‘There we go! And strain, garnish with a slice of lemon, over crushed ice. I’m on my way.’

In less than a minute, she came round the ‘L’, carrying a small silver tray with the two glasses on it.

‘Hand it over, then,’ Malcolm said, holding out his hand.

‘Not just yet, big boy. I want the occasion to be just right, so, just before we drink our cocktails, I want us to enjoy a black Russian cigarette.’

‘But I don’t smoke!’ he protested.

‘Neither do I,’ she replied, ‘but trust me, this is definitely the best way to enjoy these cocktails,’ and in so saying, she removed a small black box from a drawer in a wall unit, opened it, and held it out for him to take a cigarette, took one herself, and produced a lighter to light them. ‘Now, she ordered, ‘a couple of puffs on that, and we can have our glasses. Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.’

‘And the same to you … darling.’ He hesitated over the last word, as this was the first time that they had used it, but he got over his surprise by gazing at the huge bouquet of flowers that he had brought with him, and thought that they had been worth the money, if this was the effect they had on her.

While all this was going through his mind, he was having difficulty not to succumb to a fit of coughing from the cigarette smoke. He had tried smoking when he was about nine or ten, but it had made him throw up, and he just hoped that this unfortunate consequence did not recur this evening. How that would ruin things for him!

Asking for a. . .