Writing
about Augusta McKee, former opera singer, professor of music, fashionista,
amateur sleuth, known for her independence and her stilettos, has elicited some
great responses from readers:
“Professor Augusta McKee, just introduced in
Susan Moore Jordan’s mystery The Case of the Slain Soprano, will take her place
among the lady detectives you wish you knew in person. She’s a no-nonsense
voice teacher in spike heels, tough and tender and smart as all get-out.”
“Augusta McGee, (Jordan’s) heroine, is
well-drawn for us and we are soon thoroughly intrigued by this well-dressed and
extremely well-shod woman in midlife with many roles - professor of music,
voice teacher, stage play director, and supportive mentor to faculty and
students.”
When
Augusta crosses paths with experienced Homicide Detective Malcolm Mitchell, there
has to be much more to what begins as an adversarial encounter.
“Augusta,
a strong force to be reckoned with, isn’t the type to take bad news lying down.
Instead, she decides to do a bit of snooping on her own, especially when her
red stilettos and sassy wit cross paths with the hunky, smart homicide
detective, Malcolm Mitchell. Sparks sure do fly!”
“The beautiful, spiked-heel McKee encounters
romance with an unlikely match (who turns out to share her love of opera, no
surprise there!) in the detective assigned to the case, Malcolm Mitchell. McKee
makes a strong protagonist and I liked her instantly as she asserts herself in
defiance of the detective, who seems a bit overwhelmed by her, but later
regains his composure sufficiently to woo her.”
While
that initial encounter may at first appear to be instant dislike, it turns out
to be a great deal more. Augusta’s thoughts about the detective evolve, and
this scene at Linnea Murphy’s funeral could be the beginning of their romance. (Informational note: the books are set in Cincinnati in the 1960s.)
The
Case of the Slain Soprano
Excerpt
from Chapter 7
Arriving
at the church, Augusta was somewhat taken aback to see a number of police
officers on hand, including Detective Malcolm Mitchell and his partner, Jim
Edmonds.
“Crowd
control, Detective?” she said to Mitchell.
“Something
like that,” he replied, rather curtly.
“It
appears you’re looking for someone.”
He
glanced at her briefly, continuing to scan the crowd as he spoke. “One of our
suspects has cut and run. There’s a chance he might show up today.”
Augusta
had to catch her breath and realized she was shaking slightly; the emotions she
was already experiencing intensified. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who it
is.”
“You
suppose correctly, Professor McKee.” He gazed directly at her and said quietly,
“You should take your seat, don’t you think?”
She
nodded and walked down the aisle to the soothing strains of the prelude,
Mascagni’s haunting “Intermezzo” from Cavalleria
Rusticana, to sit with Sisters Norbert and Vincent. As Augusta listened to
the angelic Fauré Requiem, she found
herself from time to time studying the crowd which filled the church. Who are they looking for?
The
sopranos began to sing the lovely “Pie Jesu” and Augusta’s mind took her back
to the concert in October when Linnea had performed it flawlessly, and she let
the tears flow. The mass concluded; Father Culhane spoke of Linnea with love
and compassion, and there were few dry eyes in the congregation.
The
casket was wheeled to the front of the church and removed, and the congregation
began to exit to the gentle, ethereal strains of Theodore Dubois’ “In
Paradisum.” Augusta was jostled slightly from behind, and she glanced back to
apologize but the person behind her hurried forward.
Augusta
almost stopped still as she stared at the woman who had brushed past her. She
was wearing too heavy a coat for this late April day and had a scarf wound
around her head. With a shock Augusta realized it wasn’t a woman at all; it was
a man. When she reached the steps leading from the church she received a second
shock: after a brief scuffle, the “woman” was being arrested by Mitchell and
Edmonds. Augusta hurried down the steps and Terry Jenkins locked eyes with her.
Terry’s
voice broke as he called out, “Professor McKee, you know I didn’t kill Linnea.
I loved her.” Detective Edmonds pressed the fugitive into a police car, which
sped away fairly quickly. While Augusta realized the police had managed to
avoid too much of an uproar, there was some consternation among the mourners
who had witnessed the arrest. Furious, she confronted Mitchell.
“Was
that absolutely necessary?” She struggled to keep her voice under control.
“Unfortunately,
it was. I’d have preferred to arrest him elsewhere, but if we hadn’t done it
here, he would have been on the run again.”
“I
simply can’t believe that boy killed Linnea.”
“Well,
he sure didn’t help his case by taking off the way he did. Not smart to come to
the funeral, either. And he compounded his problems by taking a swing at
Detective Edmonds.”
Augusta’s
jumbled emotions had been in high gear all morning, and she found herself
weeping and unable to speak. To her surprise, Detective Mitchell reacted with
sympathy.
“I’m
sorry this happened, Augusta.” He handed her his handkerchief. “I know you
loved Linnea and this has all been difficult for you.”
She
still couldn’t speak. Malcolm Mitchell put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The
Sisters are waiting to take you to the cemetery,” he said quietly, his mouth
close to her ear. “You need to be there for the conclusion of the funeral.”
Still
clutching the handkerchief, Augusta allowed Sister Vincent to lead her to one
of the limousines that had been hired for the day.
The
car pulled away slowly as Augusta glanced through the back window at Mitchell. How caring he was with me. I didn’t expect
that.
The
Case of the Slain Soprano and The Case of the Disappearing Director, Books #1
and #2 in “the Augusta McKee mysteries,” are both available on Amazon, Kindle
and paperback:
Covers by Taylor Van Kooten
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