Whodunit, British Library, Crime Classic, Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, Dorothy L. Sayers

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The body of John Cornell the well-known London Merchant and banker, was exhumed early this morning with great secrecy, following representations made to the Home Office.

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Description

The body of John Cornell the well-known London Merchant and banker, was exhumed early this morning with great secrecy, following representations made to the Home Office.

Everyone was astonished when the beautiful Josephine Rivron rejected the young, popular and handsome Frank Cornell, and married his elderly, wealthy father John instead. When John fell ill and died shortly after marrying, there were suspicions that the cause wasn’t pneumonia, but a nasty case of poisoning. Then Frank Cornell too was dead – shot through the head, the weapon vanished. This time no one had any doubt it was murder.

Amateur sleuth Algernon Vereker is drawn to this case, his fourth, by a recurring bout of his “old detective fever”. He packs his Colt automatic and joins Inspector Heather down at Marston Manor to investigate. The Ginger Cat Mystery (1935 – titled Murder at Marston Manor in the USA) is a classic country house whodunit stuffed with suspects, clues, red herrings and dark deeds. Not to mention the eponymous feline, whose tell-tale fur might just help to hang a murderer. This new edition, the first in over seventy years, features an introduction by Curtis Evans.

Praise

‘Mr Forsythe has contrived an ingenious tale.’ The Times

Bibliographic Data

Category: Crime Fiction
Publication Date: February 2016
Territories: World
ISBN: 978 1 911095 17 0 (ebook) / 978 1 911095 16 3 (paperback)

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There was no mistaking the sound: it was that of a stealthy footfall, and it appeared to come from the staircase leading to the next floor.

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Mr Sutton Armadale, the financier, was shot dead on the private polo ground of his palatial home. Before expiring in his gamekeeper’s arms, he muttered the one word “murder”.

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“What’s the matter?” Vereker asked breathlessly, and at the same moment realised that the mass lying at Ricardo’s feet was the body of a woman. “Has she fainted?”

“It’s Mrs. Mesado, Algernon,” replied Ricardo, “and if I’m not mistaken, she’s dead.”

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Thrusting his pipe in his pocket, he crossed to his writing desk. Extracting a heavy army-pattern revolver from a drawer, he began silently to search the whole ground floor of the house.

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“Take my advice; from to-day keep your own counsel. Listen to everything, disclose nothing. Avoid being alone. Come to me if you’re in doubt about anything or feel you scent danger. I can assure you we both live in danger.”

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