The rain had been lashing down for a couple of hours when the taxi arrived at the converted barn on the estate of Chellingworth Hall; it had originally been built back in the 1600s, but now it housed the office of the WISE Enquiries Agency, as well as a delightfully appointed apartment in the loft.

The four women who were partners in the agency were on tenterhooks, awaiting the arrival of Dru Ann Love, an illustrious blogger, from America. They’d been thrilled that she’d said she’d like to visit them when she was in the area – to interview them – and were curious to meet her; none of them had ever met a recipient of the Mystery Writers of America’s prestigious Raven Award. Now their waiting was almost over, because the woman herself was pushing open the door. . .

Annie Parker was the first to the door, and towered over their guest as she greeted her. “Welcome to our office, Dru Ann. Come on, doll, give us that umbrella; I’ll put it in the sink to drip off. You go on through and have a seat.”

Mavis MacDonald stretched out her hand in welcome, looking Dru Ann straight in the eye, “Aye, settle yourself, why don’t you? I’ll bring the pot to the table in a tic. Help yourself to biccies. . .but bear in mind Annie might fight you for the chocolate bourbons. We’re all ears – so interview away!”

Dru Ann took in her surroundings as she settled on the sofa, but did her best to resist the biscuits. “Thanks for having me. The cab’s going to wait, so I’d better get on – if you don’t mind. So, let’s start with the basics – what are all your full names, please?”

Annie grinned as she poured tea, “Well, I’m Annie Parker, and that is my full name, then there’s Carol Hill. . .you haven’t got a middle name, have you?” Carol shook her head. “No. And Mavis. . .you’re Gwendoline, aren’t you? Mavis Gwendoline MacDonald, and Chrissy, let me tell Dru Ann your full name, ‘cos it’s quite a mouthful: this is the Honorable Miss Christine Elizabeth Dierdre Siobhan Wilson-Smythe. Ha! Not going to wrap your tongue around that one easily if you’ve had one too many sherries, are you?”

Dru Ann couldn’t imagine she’d ever find herself in a situation where “too many sherries” would be a possibility, but she smiled and took the cup and saucer being offered to her by Mavis. She said, “I know you’re all professional private investigators nowadays, but what about before that? I bet you’ve got some interesting backgrounds.”

Mavis sat very upright and blew across the surface of her tea as she replied, “My background was in nursing. I trained up after I’d had my two boys; my husband was invalided out of the army and returned to our home in Scotland. . .then I decided I’d make a career for myself, while he raised our children. So I came to the profession later in life, and gave my service to the army, too. By the time I retired I’d risen to become Matron of the Battersea Barracks, which is a world-renowned home for those who’ve given their life of service to the army, in case you don’t know. It was a fulfilling post – and it’s what I was doing when I met my three colleagues. . .who all knew each other prior to that time, didn’t you, Carol?

Carol put down her cup, smoothed down her floral jersey frock, and replied, “We did – we’d all met because we all worked in the City of London, see? I was raised on a sheep farm in West Wales, but I’ve always loved data. . .even since I was a child. The best job for my skills and training was at a massive international company in London, and I really enjoyed being the senior manager for all their computing systems. It’s where I met my husband, David. . .he worked for me, and, well. . .we hit it off.”

Christine laughed. “Oh, come off it, Carol, you were smitten from the moment you clapped eyes on him, so you were.” The young woman hooked her long chestnut hair behind her ear and gave Dru Ann her attention. “Carol was still single when we met; it was at one of those excruciating events they hold for “women managers”; you must know the sort of thing – warm chardonnay and limp finger food. I was so impressed by Carol – what a brain she’s got. Me? Well, with Daddy being a viscount – but a penniless one – all I had were good contacts, so I used those in my job as an insurance underwriter for Lloyds of London – which sounds fancy, but it’s really just about networking and talking people into doing what you want them to do. But at least Carol and I met, and we managed to build a friendship, despite long hours of work. Though I know Carol and Annie were already chums by then, weren’t you?”

Annie had already finished her tea – which made Dru Ann wonder if she had an asbestos mouth; she sat back on the sofa, waggling a sandal on her toes. “We were – in fact, Carol and I met not long after she started working in the City, didn’t we? I’d been up there since I was sixteen: started in the mail room of a firm of Lloyds insurers and managed to work my way up to become their head receptionist, so I could show Carol the ropes. And I needed to. . .wouldn’t have said boo to a goose, in those days, would you, Car? Then we all met Mavis when we decided we’d better look into why Chrissy’s uncle had died so suddenly while he was at the Battersea Barracks, right Chrissy?”

Dru Ann wasn’t surprised to know there was a history between Carol and Annie, their body language told her they were close. “So how did you come up with the name for your agency?” She had always wondered.

Mavis took the lead, “It was when we all decided to go into business together. . .in the pub one evening. With Carol being Welsh, Christine being Irish, me being a Scot, and Annie being a true Cockney, so real English, we decided to follow what they used to do for the Four Nations rugby tournament, and refer to ourselves as WISE – which is also a good double-meaning if you’re after a decent enquiry agent.”

Dru Ann noted the information; she’d never have guessed that. “And do any of you have what we interviewers always refer to as ‘a significant other’?”

She was interested to see that a few meaningful looks were exchanged before Carol replied with, “Well, I’m married to David, as I said, and Mavis is widowed. As for Annie and Christine? I’ll tell you, because they might not.” Annie tutted, and Carol continued with a chuckle, “Alright, no I won’t say too much, but I will tell you that Tudor Evans, who’s the landlord of the Lamb and Flag pub in the village of Anwen-by-Wye, where Annie and I live, is a man with a meaningful role in Annie’s life…that okay Annie?” Annie rolled her eyes and shrugged. Carol continued, “And Christine? Well – not even she could deny that Alexander Bright is her partner. . .and he’s a significant force in all our lives, in one way or another. Yes, he’s devilishly handsome, and yes, he’s got more than a nodding relationship with danger. . .but we all agree he’s thoughtful, generous, and clever. . .so we all hope he and Christine don’t break up!”

Christine raised her teacup toward her colleague and said, “Cheers, Carol.”

Dru Ann checked her watch. “Do you have children?” She was hoping the taxi driver didn’t mind sitting outside in the downpour.

“David and I have Albert,” said Carol, “who’s coming up to six months, and Mavis has her two grown sons, but that’s it. Annie’s got Gertie, a lovely little black Labrador puppy, who’s a bit like a child, if that counts.”

Annie chipped in with, “And don’t forget your Bunty. . .that’s Carol’s calico cat – her child long before Albert came along, right, Car?”

Dru Ann noted all the names. “Now am I right in thinking you all live here, now?”

Christine chuckled. “I always have trouble saying where I ‘live’ because I live in several places. Here I have use of the apartment upstairs, but I also have my own flat in London, which I’m keeping on, of course. Mammy and Daddy have the London house, and then we have our family estate on the north side of the border in Ireland. All of which means I never really can be sure which of my clothes are where – and I have at least three make-up bags!”

Mavis rolled her eyes, “Ach, you’ll have to forgive our resident gadabout, Dru Ann, and remember, we were not all born with a title and several family piles. When we decided to relocate our business here from London, I took the chance to move into the Dower House on the Chellingworth Estate, where I live very comfortably, and enjoy the company of Althea, who is the octogenarian dowager duchess of Chellingworth. It’s her son, Henry, the duke, who lets us have this building for nothing more than a peppercorn rent, thanks to us solving a puzzling case for him and the family.”

Annie kicked off her shoes, “Like Car said, we both live in the village of Anwen-by-Wye. As Welsh villages go, it’s lovely – though I still can’t believe I live in an honest to goodness thatched cottage that dates back to the 1500s. And Carol’s house – oh, it’s lovely. Big. Georgian. Everything very square with lovely high ceilings. And both of us pay rent to the duke, too, because the estate owns the village. But he’s very kind to us – we pay next to nothing.”

Dru Ann checked her next question. “Do you have any hobbies?”

Carol snorted tea, and Annie lay back on the sofa quivering.

Christine cleared her throat, “Please forgive us all for laughing! Carol’s grappling with an infant; I’m usually up to my ears in something with Alexander; Mavis has her hands full with Althea. . .who’s adorable, but a real scamp and always getting into mischief somehow – more like an eight-year-old than an eighty-year-old, and Annie? Well, she’s got Gertie, who keeps her on her toes, and, of course, we all work not just full time, but often some very odd hours.”

Dru Ann decided to change tack. “Yes, it’s clear you’re all very busy – so, if you don’t have hobbies, as such, what’s your idea of a really fun time?”

Annie leaned close to Dru Ann and whispered, “As for Chrissy. . .I bet it involves Alexander, and some really posh food, somehow.” Christine shook her head. “Ha! Yes, I bet it does. Carol’s never happier than when she, David, and Albert are snuggled up at home. . .and Mavis? Well, you like visiting your boys and their families in Scotland, when you can, don’t you? But we all know you’re quite content to watch a bit of telly at the Dower House – when Althea gives you the peace to do it. And me? It’s nice for me to visit my Mum and Dad in Plaistow when I can. . .but I’m happy here, now, to be honest. Never thought I’d say that when I got here – I haven’t lived anywhere but London my whole life, see. . .but now this is home. Mind you – I wouldn’t mind a jaunt to St. Lucia, where Mum and Dad are from, originally – there’s a big extended family I wouldn’t mind getting to know.”

Dru Ann turned the page in her notepad and said, “Right, here’s a fun one: if you were to write a memoir, what would you call it?”

Annie stuck her hand in the air, “Oh, me first, ’cos I’ve thought about this: ‘Don’t Let It get To You’ would be mine: trust me, being a Black Cockney woman working in the City of London, I’ve had to face a fair few things in my time; now I’m in my fifties I would tell my younger self to not let some of the people I’ve met get to me. . .so that would be my title.”

Carol looked vague as she replied, “I haven’t really thought about it, but I reckon it would have to be ‘Home Sweet Home’, because home’s important to me, and always has been. I didn’t want to leave Wales to make a career for myself, but I didn’t have much choice if I wanted to make the most of my talents, and now here I am back in Wales again, and with a perfect family.”

Mavis sat up straight as she added, “For me it would be ‘A Life of Service’, which I think is the best thing a life can be about.”

Christine twirled a curl as she replied, “To be honest, since I’m not yet thirty, I think it’s a bit early for me to know, but how about ‘Make Sure It’s Fun’ because that’s the best way to approach life. . .yes, that would be a grand title.”

Dru Ann smiled. “Not too many more questions now – thanks for this. I know you’re all professionals, but do you ever work with anyone else?”

Mavis responded quickly with, “I’ll answer this one – we never touch a case that should rightfully be dealt with by the police…unless they find it beyond them, and we’re all absolutely professional in our dealings with clients – I make sure of that.”

Annie added, “Yeah, Mave. . .but don’t forget Althea. You know she likes to think of herself as an honorary ‘WISE woman’ and helps us all she can. . .yeah, yeah, I know that sometimes she’s more of a hindrance, but she means well. And Alexander helps when he can, too – which is quite often. I know we might not like to admit it, but his shady contacts can be very useful, on occasion.”

All the women nodded their agreement.

Dru Ann pressed on with, “Okay, so just time for one last one: what’s a typical day in your life like in general, and when you are on a case?” She hadn’t been prepared for the response.

Eventually Mavis said, “Ach, take no notice of them all laughing – though I have to agree there’s no such thing as ‘typical’ around these parts. You might think you’re just going to enjoy a lovely cream tea up at Chellingworth Hall, then you find a case that’s just begging to be solved, or there’s some sort of shenanigans going on in the village. . .or maybe Annie’s doing some undercover work in Cardiff or Swansea, or Carol’s off talking to her old contacts in various parts of the world to help with a deep dive into something for a client from just up the road in Brecon or Builth Wells. . .and, if Althea’s got anything to do with it, there’ll be some fire we have to put out with someone or other whose nose she’s put out of joint – usually the vicar, poor, wee man. Suffice to say, we make the most of our down time, because we’ve no idea when a case will come in, nor how much of our time it’ll take. Like now. . .I can tell you’re in a hurry, and if you’ll forgive us, we need to get moving too. You see, tomorrow Annie’s off to the coast to work undercover to investigate a possible gold-digger situation, Carol’s just about to start on a time-critical financial investigation, Christine really should be resting. . .she’s still recuperating from having sustained a gunshot wound a couple of months ago – guns being a rarity for us to encounter, thank goodness. And me? Well, I’ll be off to see Althea before dinner is served at the Dower House.”

Dru Ann finished her tea. “It’s been a treat to meet you all in person – thanks for your time, and good luck with your cases.”

As Dru Ann made her way through the puddles to the waiting taxi, Mavis said, “Nice woman.” And her colleagues all agreed.

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The Case of the Disgraced Duke, A WISE Enquiries Agency Mystery #5
Genre: Traditional
Release: August 2022
Purchase Link

The Duke’s Reputation Is In Peril – can the women of the WISE Enquiries Agency save the day?

Henry Devereaux Twyst, eighteenth duke of Chellingworth, is desperate to disprove murderous rumors about his ancestor before his first child is born, so he enlists the help of the women of the WISE Enquiries Agency.

However, Annie is working undercover – on a case that turns out to be more deadly than anyone had imagined, and Carol is finding it difficult to juggle her responsibilities – especially when faced with a puzzling theft in the village. Meanwhile, Christine is consumed with fears about Alexander’s shady colleagues, and Mavis is trying to manage the dowager’s dispute with the local vicar.

In the fifth WISE Enquiries Agency Mystery stately Chellingworth Hall, and the charming Welsh village of Anwen-by-Wye, both of which have more than their fair share of quirky inhabitants, are once again subjected to a host of problems that need to be solved. . .and the WISE women are ready to use their considerable skills to do so.

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About the author
Cathy Ace’s Cait Morgan Mysteries feature a criminal psychologist sleuth encountering traditional whodunits around the world (optioned for TV); her WISE Enquiries Agency Mysteries feature a quartet of soft-boiled female PIs solving cozy cases from a Welsh stately home. Her psychological suspense novel, The Wrong Boy, has also been optioned for TV. Shortlisted for Canada’s Bony Blithe Award three times, winning once, she’s also won IPPY and IBA Awards; her work’s also been shortlisted for a Crime Writers of Canada Award of Excellence, and the Crime Fiction Lover Best Indie Novel. She migrated from Wales aged 40, and now lives in Canada.

All comments are welcomed.