The Mammoth Book of Jacobean Whodunnits: 24 Murder Mysteries from the Age of Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

The Mammoth Book of Jacobean Whodunnits: 24 Murder Mysteries from the Age of Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

Language: English

Pages: 512

ISBN: 0786717300

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The seventeenth century was a time ripe with murder, anarchy, war, and political and religious intrigue, of which the Gunpowder Plot is only one example. This unputdownable new anthology from Mike Ashley presents 25 whodunits set in those turbulent times—also the age of the Witchfinder General, ‘revenge' tragedies, and the colonization of America. Stories of murder and mayhem centre on the true role of Guy Fawkes, the English Civil War and the fate of Charles I, plus the lost colony of Roanoke and the tale of Pocahontas. The Mammoth Book of Jacobean Whodunits is a fast paced anthology about a thrilling time in British history.

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an interest in this case,” he explained, “and he sent me a note. I was asked to search for anyone who could put a name to the face of any of the killers.” “Lieutenant Stern – that’s what he was called.” “Lieutenant?” “A naval man.” “And a foreigner to boot, then?” “A Swede.” “That will make him easier to find. Describe the fellow, Reuben.” “Gladly.” As the chairman gave a description of the man, Jonathan Bale memorized every detail. The constable was a big, solid, serious man in his late

shipyards. “That’s strange, because I saw you.” “Where did you think you saw me, Adams? I was not in the town. This morning I came downriver by flat barge from my house.” Now Adams knew the man was lying. He had seen him in First Street for sure, and the Dutchman had been coming from the direction of Market Street, where Rokesby’s butchery stood. De Ruiter leaned drunkenly forwards, pushing his whiskery face into Adams’s, and grinning. He tapped the side of his bulbous nose, turning the tables

kindling, the only other thing in there was an edging of paper, gold-trimmed. Cedric scraped it out onto the floor. It was all that remained of a burnt sheet of notepaper; the gold-trim revealed that it was household notepaper, of the sought used by Lady Foxworth in her regular correspondence. “This doesn’t really tell us anything,” Cedric observed. “No,” O’Calligan agreed. “It could be perfectly innocent.” He turned to Lady Lightbourne’s body, now a grisly sight; sickly-white and visibly

constructing a mine beneath the houses and leading into the cellars under the House. But then we learned that the cellar was to be let, and Percy took it over.” “And you filled it with gunpowder. How much was there?” “Thirty-six barrels, all found.” “Sweet Jesus!” That thought made me want to kill him there and then. The thought of such a massive bomb, right under the King as he began to speak . . . it filled me with horror. “Did you have no care for others, for the innocents who would be

Yet she must have suspected me, for she asked me to leave her service. Even then,” he embraced me again for the last time, “I could not bear to think of her in the arms of an other, least of all Thomas Bell’s. My sister, my spouse, as the Song of Songs so truly calls her.” After Clarence had been led away to leave me in my anguish, His Majesty turned to me, seemingly much troubled. “How did you know it was the Archdeacon, Septimus?” he asked. “Though he passed the piece of cake onwards, I doubt

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