A Red Herring Without Mustard: A Flavia de Luce Novel

By Alan Bradley


Alan Bradley, writer of the main award-winning sequence debut of any 12 months, returns with one other impossible to resist Flavia de Luce novel
In the hamlet of Bishop’s Lacey, the insidiously smart and unflappable eleven-year-old sleuth Flavia de Luce had requested a Gypsy girl to inform her fortune—never watching for to later stumble around the negative soul, bludgeoned nearly to demise within the wee hours in her personal caravan. used to be this an act of retribution via these confident that the soothsayer kidnapped a neighborhood baby years in the past? definitely Flavia knows the bliss of settling ratings; revenge is a pleasant hobby while one has odious older sisters. yet how may well this crime be attached to the lacking child? because the crimson herrings pile up, Flavia needs to kind via clues fishy and foul to untangle darkish deeds and unsafe secrets.

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I positioned it in this,” I defined, handing Inspector Hewitt a sq. cardboard field, “so that there stands out as the least variety of issues involved with the glass floor. ” i didn't clarify that, since it was once exactly the correct measurement, I had pinched the field from Feely’s bed room, nor did I point out that I had flushed a pound of Yardley’s lavender bathtub salts down the lavatory for wish of a higher position to place it on brief detect. The Inspector lifted the head flap gingerly and glanced within. “You’ll discover a ring of faint smudges at the glass,” I stated. “Most most probably whatever’s left of the fingerprints—” “Thank you, Flavia,” he stated in a flat voice, handing the field to Sergeant Graves. “… and maybe some of mine,” I additional. “Take this straightaway to Sergeant Woolmer, in Hinley,” the Inspector acknowledged, ignoring my small funny story. “Come again for me later. ” “Yes, sir,” Sergeant Graves stated. “Hinley it really is. ” “Hold on a minute,” I acknowledged. “There’s extra. ” I rigorously pulled one in all Feely’s embroidered handkerchiefs from my pocket. “This,” I stated, “might good be a duplicate of the silver lobster choose that killed Brookie Harewood. or even it’s the unique. It’s acquired the de Luce monogram on it. one of many Bull youngsters was once digging with it within the Gully. If there are any fingerprints on it in addition to his and mine, you’ll rather most likely locate that they fit those at the crystal ball. ” I appeared around the room to monitor the reactions on everyone’s faces as I passed the object over to Inspector Hewitt. As Mrs. Mullet as soon as acknowledged, you will have heard a pin suspend. “Good lord! ” Father stated, stepping ahead and attaining for the article while the Inspector was once nonetheless unwrapping it. I had virtually blurted out that the remainder of the relations silver used to be on its approach to Sotheby’s, yet whatever made me carry my tongue. What a sour blow to Father it should were had I enable that slip out. “Please, Colonel, don’t contact it,” the Inspector acknowledged. “I’m afraid this needs to now be handled as facts. ” Father stood watching the silver lobster decide as though he have been a snake that had come by surprise face-to-face with a mongoose. Daffy sat bolt upright at the divan, obvious at me with what I took to be hatred in her eyes—as if she held me liable for all of Father’s misfortunes. Feely’s hand was once at her mouth. All of those information have been frozen at the speedy, as though a photographer’s flash had long gone off and preserved without end a skinny and uncomfortable slice of time. The silence within the room used to be audible. “Killed Brookie Harewood? ” Inspector Hewitt acknowledged finally, turning to me. “This lobster choose? Please clarify what you suggest by means of that. ” “It used to be in his nose,” I stated, “when i discovered his physique placing from the Poseidon fountain. without doubt you observed it? ” Now it was once the Inspector’s flip to stare in disbelief on the item in his hand. “You’re rather yes? ” he requested. “Positive,” I acknowledged, a bit peeved that he may still doubt me. i may see that the Inspector was once making a choice on his phrases rigorously ahead of he spoke. “We stumbled on no lobster choose on the scene of the crime—and none has became up consequently.

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