Murder on Stage (19 page)

The dark damp cellar shimmered with light. It looked like Piccadilly Circus! There were candles everywhere and from the beam crossing above their heads a set of Chinese lanterns glowed in
orange, blue, red and green. The fire blazed, the flames leaping up and making the cellar as warm as midsummer’s day. Rosa was standing there, laughing as Mutsy licked her hand, his tail
wagging and an amused look on his intelligent face.

There was a board in the centre of the cellar, propped up on a couple of stools and it was covered in food; with a large cake from the pastry cook’s shop sitting in the centre of
everything.

The one chair in the cellar was placed at the top of the board. On its back it had the shape of a garland cut out of cardboard, decorated with paper leaves.

In large unsteady letters around the garland was written:
WELCOME HOME, ALFIE
.

These London Murder Mysteries owe much to a man who was born almost two hundred years ago. I first read Charles Dickens at the age of seven – probably skipped large chunks
– but I loved his characters and loved his descriptions of London. During the whole of a childhood spent in and out of hospital (never well enough to go to school until I was over fifteen), I
educated myself by reading through a library of Victorian authors – but loved none as much as I loved Dickens.

Alfie and his gang came to life because of Charles Dickens and I am proud to acknowledge my debt. But inspiration is only the first step towards writing a book. For the successful conclusion of
the process, I owe much to my family for all their help and support; to Peter Buckman, my agent for his sage advice; to Anne Clark, my wonderful editor, for her unremitting hard work, flashes of
inspiration and determination not to let even the tiniest error escape her eagle eye. Thanks, Anne; it’s a pleasure to work with you.