Thief of St Martins: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 5
Reviewers of Night and Day: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 1 said:
"Five stars! Delightfully entertaining, rich characters, suspenseful, charming all in one; anxiously awaiting the next one!"
"a fascinating tale set in England in the 1930s. This 'cosy crime' novel, with its measure of burgeoning romance, is a good read; something to entertain and satisfy in front of a burning log fire in the dark days of winter. The settings and period detail are excellent...The denouement is swift, tense and satisfying..."
"I received this on a Friday and could not put it down - goodbye housework - not for too long though as I was so enthralled I finished it Saturday evening."
"Dottie Manderson is a gorgeous character...A great read and I'm looking forward to catching up with more of Dottie."
The Thief of St Martins: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 5
We last saw Dottie in the Summer of 1934, discovering that her mother was in fact really her aunt, and that she was the secret, shameful daughter of her mother's sister, her 'aunt' Cecilia Cowdrey. Some months later, hoping to come to terms with this revelation, Dottie tentatively accepts an invitation to spend a few days with Cecilia and her husband Lewis Cowdrey over New Year.
Confusion over the date she should arrive makes the visit a disaster from the outset. Dottie comes to a house full of secrets and lies, of jealousy, bitterness and selfish ambition. Add into the mix a sneak thief stealing any small valuable items, and the stage is set for disaster.
Who will help Dottie to discover the truth: her soon-to-be fiancé, the eminent Gervase Parfitt, or the ordinary policeman who loves her, Inspector William Hardy?
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Extract from The Thief of St Martins:
A door was thrown open, and Dottie was thrust, blinking, into a room brightly lit by an electric light hanging low over the table. A figure across the room rose, but with the light in her eyes it was half a minute before she found the chair and sat down. Then she looked across the table into the eyes of Inspector Hardy.
It was so unexpected. It broke her composure entirely. The tears ran down her face, and with no handkerchief to check them, the prison uniform rapidly became spotted with damp patches.
Hardy was aware of a rage greater than anything he'd ever felt in his life. He glared at the warder. 'Get those handcuffs off her at once! Then get out. This is a private interview.'
The warder presented him with the keys. He removed the handcuffs, threw them down on the table with a bang. He had to do that, or he would have taken each wrist, stroked each bruise then kissed it. He forced himself to get his temper and his emotions under control. The loud noise of the handcuffs falling onto the table helped, as did the swift action of it. He took a deep breath, resumed his seat, and, not knowing what else to do, began to shuffle his papers.
Then he glanced up into her lovely hazel eyes, with the dark smudges beneath them. She'd stopped crying but tears streaked her cheeks. He was dismayed by how pale and fragile she looked. He looked down at his papers again, then cleared his throat.
'So, it seems you're being charged with murder.'
'Yes,' said Dottie Manderson. She couldn't think of anything else to add.
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