Strange customs

ROSALIE’S heart was pounding. Tall and formidable in dark coat and breeches, Thomas Charrel stood in the chapel doorway, his eyes on her for what seemed an age. His expression was grim, his gaze as co

MR Oliver Tait?” the policeman said as he and his companion were shown into the charming sitting-room of a suave man in his thirties or thereabouts. “I’m Detective Inspector Wragge and this is WPC Moo

FROM its oak panelling to the worn leather chairs, the room was oddly old fashioned. Rather like Ralph Draper himself, Dolly observed, glancing around the private detective’s office. She hadn’t expect

I LIFT my head to the weak sun and give thanks for having survived another winter. It’s good to see the lane is passable, even if there are ruts and puddles. However, I can still see the bones of icy,

TARA clicked off her mobile after phoning the police about the stolen trailer. “Well, they’ve given me a crime number,” she told her mother, who was busy patching holes in horse blankets. “But it’ll p

I’LL return in two hours, Mr Archer.” Lister, Lord Despard’s steward, touched his forelock in deference to the young architect. The sun had just risen over the woods surrounding the lake – where a fol