THIS MONTH’S SPOTLIGHT
IMPROVISATO: The Fourth Albert Mystery
Some people with strong opinions said Albert was an idiot savant, others that he was just an idiot, and still others that he his international renown as a composer and concert pianist, to say nothing of receiving the only Nobel Prize in Music ever awarded, attested to the fact that he was, quite simply, a genius. Eccentric, but a genius.
He had a higher opinion of those who thought he was an idiot. Albert and the world were enigmas to one another.
But he did know three things: music, geography, and accents. To these natural attributes, since meeting legless Jeremy Ash, he had added the surprisingly utilitarian skill of lock-picking as well as an unwonted knack for accumulating dead people – and stumbling upon their murderers.
The thing about dead people though, is they’re only dead physically. They could still chase him down and find him anywhere. Albert suspected as much when he fled to The Last Place On Earth – New Zealand – to escape the ever-growing congregation of ghosts he’d collected in four years. Even so, the body in the surf – an oriental girl in a sea-green dress – was unexpected. So were the four dead women of Parliament Row.
Where could he run from the Last Place On Earth? Surprisingly, there’s a place even Kiwis think remote: Chatham Island, the perfect place to hide, for those with most to hide.