Chapter 8Lilac Villa was a monstrosity. There was no other word for it. It was a turn-of-the-century mock-Tudor construction with fake timbering that offended Simon’s very soul. There were also statues of gilded nymphs in the gardens. One gilded nymph would have kept an ordinary family of six in food and shoe-leather for a year and he reminded himself he was an officer of the law who was here to solve a crime, not pass judgement on rich people. However much they deserved it.
“I’m not a Bolshevik,” he muttered under his breath. “I just think rich people shouldn’t be allowed when poor people are starving.”
“Pardon, sir?” Potter said, shooting him a sideways glance as he pulled the car to a smooth halt on the turning circle in front of the house.
“Nothing, Potter. Just…the nymphs.”
Potter
