Laura Wilson's Hello Bunny Alice is probably one very weak story, to the point you can't help but wonder exactly how this was published.Alice purposely lives in seclusion when her dead husband's best friend rocks up on her door one morning, and he's portrayed to be a completely unlikable characte...
Nominated for the Crime Writers' Association Ellis Peters Historical Dagger Award They lie, three elderly recluses shot to death, in a musty 1950s London town house crammed with hoarded belongings. When the death scene yields no clues, the police conclude that one of the victims shot the others b...
‘Tuppence off the meat ration – again,’ she said, wistfully. ‘I do wish they’d end it.’‘Plenty of greens, anyway,’ said Donald, nodding approvingly at the khaki-coloured mound of spring cabbage, which was all that Stratton’s allotment was capable of producing in such a relentlessly wet April as t...
The shirt he’d been wearing was crumpled on the floor next to it. I sat down on the end of the bed and nudged it aside with my foot. Underneath were a hairbrush and a brown glass bottle of pills. I didn’t recognise the name. I opened the case. There was an empty chest of drawers in the room, but ...
‘Your man Gannon’s there, all right. Nasty piece of work - ugly, too. Living with a woman called Beatrice Dench. Frankly, it’s a wonder that one woman could fancy him, never mind two.’ Well, that was that. He spent most of the rest of the day trying to get some sense out of the bishop’s son who h...
It would nice to be home on time for a change even if Jenny wasn’t there. Walking up Lansdowne Road, Stratton was hailed by Donald coming the other way, with someone he did not recognise in tow. ‘I called for you,’ he said. ‘Fancy a drink? Mr Ingram and I were just on our ...