By Charles Finch
From Charles Finch, the severely acclaimed writer of an attractive Blue demise and A Burial at Sea, comes A loss of life within the Small Hours--an exciting new secret in what the hot York instances calls "a beguiling series" Charles Lenox is on the top of his political occupation and is a extremely joyful new father. His days of constantly investigating the crimes of Victorian London now a few years at the back of him, he plans a visit to his uncle's property, Somerset, within the expectation of some calm weeks to put in writing a tremendous speech. while he arrives within the quiet village of Plumley, besides the fact that, what greets him is a chain of wierd vandalisms upon the neighborhood outlets: damaged home windows, minor thefts, threatening scrawls.
Only while a much more critical crime is dedicated does he start to comprehend the good stakes of these occasions, and the complicated and sinister brain that's wreaking worry and suspicion in Plumley. Now, together with his protege, John Dallington, at his part, the race is on for Lenox to discover the wrongdoer prior to he moves back. And this time his sufferer can be anyone that Lenox loves
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Extra resources for A Death in the Small Hours (Charles Lenox Mysteries, Book 6)
Pmd 31 14/11/2005, 18:15 32 P AULINE R OWSON She flushed slightly. Her eyes darted between him and Cantelli, betraying the first sign of unease. ‘Look, I really didn’t want to bother you, inspector, but Mrs Stephens, his secretary, insisted. I am sure there’s a perfectly good reason why my husband has not returned. ’ And you’re not, thought Horton watching her closely. She held his eyes. If she read his thoughts and was embarrassed by them she didn’t show it. She lifted the coffee cup in front of her and took a sip, then pulled a face.
That way he could get something of Thurlow’s and make a quick identification. Time was critical and he didn’t mean purely in terms of tracking down the killer while the trail was still warm. He couldn’t see her going into hysterics. She wasn’t the type. Self-contained was perhaps how he might describe her; cold is what others might say. It was a description that had been levelled at him but self-containment, he knew, was a protection against being hurt. ’ he asked. ‘No I don’t, inspector. ’ Including your husband, thought Horton.
There is just one more thing. ’ She shook her head. ’ Horton handed over his card and urged her to get in touch if she heard from her husband, which he thought would be difficult unless she was clairvoyant. He was convinced that the body was Thurlow. He was also certain that Mrs Thurlow knew more than she was saying. ‘She’s a cool one,’ Cantelli said, as he turned the car in the driveway. ‘Which is more than can be said for that blessed conservatory and this car. She didn’t even offer us a drink.