By Anne Perry
No breath of scandal has ever touched the aristocratic Moidore family–until Sir Basil’s attractive widowed daughter is stabbed to loss of life in her personal mattress, a stunning, incomprehensible tragedy.
Inspector William Monk is ordered to enquire in a fashion that may supply the least attainable discomfort to the influential kin. yet Monk, remarkable and impressive, is handicapped via lingering lines of amnesia and by way of the craven ineptitude of his manager, who would prefer not anything larger than to work out Monk fail. With assistance from nurse Hester Latterly, a innovative younger lady who served with Florence Nightingale within the Crimea, Monk gropes warily throughout the silence and shadows that imprecise the case, understanding that with every one step he comes toward the appalling fact.
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Additional info for A Dangerous Mourning (William Monk, Book 2)
He said. ‘‘I don’t mean Beowulf’s bookmarks, or sugar packets from the coffee bar. ’’ The plaintiff’s attorney stood up. ‘‘Objection. ’’ Judge Sophia Rodriguez peered over her half-glasses at him. ’’ Jesse took his time. Caution came unnaturally to him, but this was a big trial and he wanted to pitch a perfect game—no runs, no hits, no errors. And no easy feat. Priscilla Gaul’s long-term thievery had ended disastrously on the night that the owner of Beowulf’s Books decided to defend the store.
The smallest irritant will set me off, because I grew up in a household that did not suffer faith peddlers. The Delaneys did not buy vacuum cleaners from door-to-door salesmen, my mother always said, and we sure as hell were not buying God from them. ’’ And after everything I had heard that day, this young woman, with her gerbil-colored ponytail and eyes like greenish copper, was not a small irritant. She was a thumb jammed in my eye. She said, ‘‘You’re polluting our sanctuary. ’’ I pointed at the service sheet.
Tell the cartoonist yourself. ’’ I couldn’t help it—I stopped dead and stared at the flyer. The grim and flashy cartoons suddenly looked familiar. It was the style, a cross between Spider-Man and Xena, Warrior Princess. I flipped to the back page, the final drawing, where she would sign it. Damn. In tiny letters, Tabitha Delaney. My brother’s wife. Blessed are the meek, for they keep their mouths shut in front of TV crews. ’’ But inside I was guttering with anger. Tabitha Delaney. The name flared before me like a lighted match.
A Dangerous Mourning (William Monk, Book 2) by Anne Perry