By Deborah Crombie
A week's vacation in a sumptuous Yorkshire time-share is simply what Scotland Yard's Superintendent Duncan Kincaid wishes. however the discovery of a physique floating within the whirlpool tub ends Kincaid's holiday sooner than it really is started. considered one of his new neighbors at Followdale home is lifeless; one other is a killer. regardless of a different loss of cooperation from the neighborhood constabulary, Kincaid's prepared experience of responsibility will not permit him to disregard the heinous crime, impelling him to ship for his enthusiastic younger assistant, Sergeant Gemma James. however the stakes are raised dramatically while a moment homicide happens, and Kincaid and James locate themselves in a made up our minds hunt for a fiendish felon who enjoys murder a piece an excessive amount of.
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Additional info for A Share in Death (Duncan Kincaid Gemma James Novels 01)
Example text
The night was unusually soft and misty for September, with an almost balmy feel to the air. Kincaid found himself reluctant for the evening to end. ” “Yes, all right,” Hannah answered, and they walked in companionable silence. The light in the garden was diffuse and shadowless, and the white stone lions on the parapets gleamed eerily at them through the mist. Sutton Bank loomed in front of them, a dark hump against the sky. They stopped at the path’s end and looked back toward the house. Yellow light spilled from the first-floor windows, and a light flickered in the empty ground-floor suite, so briefly that Kincaid thought it must have been a trick of his eyes.
Share my table. ” “If you’re sure …” was about all the polite refusal he could muster, suddenly depressed by the thought of his solitary meal. The steak-and-kidney pie lived up to his every expectation, its crust golden, its interior rich with wine and mushrooms. A surfeit of mushrooms, in fact, for they had begun with the house specialty, mushrooms stuffed with pâté, breaded and deep fried. Maureen Hunsinger, he thought with satisfaction, would be appalled. Hannah had eaten her trout in parchment with delicate precision and now she aligned her knife and fork in the center of her plate, laying them side by side as neatly as dead soldiers.
Sebastian hadn’t heard him. His attention was focused on a girl, standing alone against the wall. She still carried an extra layer of padding, baby fat that softened and blurred her features and made Kincaid think of an unset pudding. The ring of dark shadow surrounding her eyes gave her a nocturnal look, and her spiky, violet-streaked hair seemed a natural extension of her sullen pout. Kincaid nudged Sebastian and spoke softly. “Angela? Maybe you’d better go and see if you can cheer her up. ” “Right,” said Sebastian.