Contents
Contents
Guide
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Childrens Books in 2022
Published in this ebook edition in 2022
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Text copyright Sophie Cleverly 2022
Illustrations copyright Hannah Peck 2022
Cover illustrations copyright Hannah Peck 2022
Cover design copyright HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2022
All rights reserved
Sophie Cleverly and Hannah Peck assert the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.
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Source ISBN: 9780008308018
Ebook Edition January 2022 ISBN: 9780008308025
Version: 2021-12-09
For Dominic Baker-Smith,
because he wanted his name in a book
M y name is Violet Veil, and I am an undertakers daughter.
More importantly, though, Im also a detective.
Youre not, said my younger brother, Thomas, at the breakfast table through a mouthful of toast and butter. The butter was dripping on to his school shorts. You dont work for the police.
Im independent, I told him. I was working on an advertisement as I spoke, poking my tongue out of the corner of my mouth as I carefully inked the letters.
But youre a girl, he insisted. Girls cant be detectives. You need to be a man with a funny name, like Sherlock Holmes or, or
Jack Danger, suggested my friend Oliver with his usual cheeky smile.
Oh hush, you, I said and blotted the ink carefully. Just because something has never been done before doesnt mean you cant start.
Id had the idea after the events of last October, when Oliver had come crashing into our lives. Or, more accurately, when hed turned up in a coffin only to wake up alive, much to his own surprise, as well as everyone elses.
He had asked me to solve his murder, which we soon surmised was linked to others that had recently taken place. We had the help of Bones, my greyhound, who had appeared mysteriously one day in the cemetery behind our home, and my equally mysterious sixth sense that allowed me to communicate with ghosts (although whether they felt like communicating back was another matter). And together we had done it. There were a few bumps along the way, of course including my father being thrown into prison on suspicion of committing the Seven Gates Murders. Yet my catching the real culprit had led to his freedom. (At that moment he was already long since out in the stable yard, preparing for the days work.)
But solving the mystery had given me a taste of something that I never could have imagined. Suddenly I was no longer doomed to a life of embroidery and attending social events with eligible bachelors. I had always dreamed of being allowed to become an undertaker like my father, which had filled my parents with varying degrees of horror. But that was Thomass and perhaps Olivers lot, not mine. Now Id seen an opportunity to create my own destiny.
I leaned back and admired my handiwork on the small piece of white card.
Oliver peered over at it. Id been helping him with his reading. Veil In-ves-tig ations, he read, and then grinned at me.
Precisely. I grinned back.
His smile slowly faded. Just you, then?
Youre Fathers apprentice. And, besides, you dont enjoy this whole mystery business.
He wrinkled his nose and said nothing.
Mother will be cross with you, Thomas said as he jumped down from the table. Bones barked and ran over to scoop up any stray crumbs.
She told me to investigate, I shot back. It was true although, to be precise, she had only been referring to exonerating Father. But there was no reason, I had decided, that I couldnt interpret that as permission.
Whatre you going to do with it, Violet? Oliver asked, pointing to the card.
Im going to put it in the front window of the shop, I said. Come on.
* * *
The business had been doing considerably better these past few months. Father had received some compensation from the newspapers who had falsely accused him. Hed also sold an exclusive interview to the Weekly Bugle about his wrongful conviction, and not only made a tidy sum but advertised his services at the same time. Hed been so busy that his debts were decreasing rapidly, and he had been able to hire some more staff. The first of these was Ernesto, who now manned the shop (as we called it, though it wasnt really a shop) whenever Father was out directing funerals.
Morning, Miss Violet, he said with a tip of his hat as we entered. Weve had two arrangements made alre
He was interrupted by Bones, who barrelled in through the back door from the house, skidded on the wooden floor and leaped up to greet him. Ernesto was rather afraid of dogs but, unfortunately for him, Bones loved him. The dog had his paws on the young mans shoulders and was wagging his tail vigorously. Ernestos expression was one of pure horror.
Down, boy! I commanded. Bones did as he was told, looking a little sheepish but pleased with himself his tail still wagging nineteen to the dozen. You know Ernesto doesnt like it when you carry on so!
Ernesto backed away, dabbing at his brow with his handkerchief. Dios mo, he muttered.
Sorry, I said. Hes just rather fond of you.
Its quite all right, miss, he said, but he still looked a little in shock. It happened any time I let Bones near him, but he was still not used to it. He turned and began going through the files in the cabinet behind him.
Ernesto was rather afraid of a lot of things, I had discovered. The list included spiders, sharp objects and, for some reason, pickles. Thankfully for the sake of his job, the one thing he didnt seem to be at all afraid of was death.
I went over to the window in the front of the shop that was currently housing a beautifully painted coffin decorated with immortelles the everlasting flowers. I leaned across and put my business card in one of the window panels, balanced on the frame.
What are you doing, Miss Violet? Ernesto called from beside the cabinets.
Nothing!
Oliver gave me a look. Even Bones seemed to be peering at me suspiciously.
What? I whispered. Either Father will notice or he wont. I shall have to explain to him sooner or later.
And if he does? Oliver asked.