City of Gold and Shadows
Felse Family 12
A 3S digital back-up edition v2.0
click for scan notes and proofing history
Contents
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Charlotte Rossignol couldn’t imagine why Great-Uncle Alan’s solicitor had sent for her. She had never even seen her distinguished relative other than on the television screen. Now, she was told, he had set off into Turkey with the intention of spending a year on archaeological research there, and in Istanbul had unaccountably cancelled all his careful arrangements, and vanished. His non-return was causing problems. And Charlotte was his next-of-kin and potential heiress.
An admirable beginning for an unusual thriller—but this is much more than a thriller. In its description of the Roman site on the Welsh border, where most of the story unfolds, it is romantic, detailed, authentic and presents a beautiful landscape. Among the characters, all observed with care, detail and affection, are two young women who are astonishingly individual and memorable.
In its account of the site itself, called
The actions of the characters, and the motives from which they spring, interlock perfectly with a mystery that constantly twists, turns and baffles. The whole is as faultless as a complete tapestry.
Ellis Peters has a high reputation as a story teller, and a wide readership. She has excelled herself here in a story of many powerful ingredients that lead to a devastating end.
by the same author
DEATH MASK
THE WILL AND THE DEED
DEATH AND THE JOYFUL WOMAN
FUNERAL OF FIGARO
FLIGHT OF A WITCH
A NICE DERANGEMENT OF EPITAPHS
THE PIPER ON THE MOUNTAIN
BLACK IS THE COLOUR OF MY TRUE-LOVE’S HEART
THE GRASS WIDOW’S TALE
THE HOUSE OF GREEN TURF
MOURNING RAGA
THE KNOCKER ON DEATH’S DOOR
DEATH TO THE LANDLORDS!
Copyright © 1973 Ellis Peters
ISBN: 0-333-15003-1 / 978-0-333-15003-0 (UK edition)
Publisher: Macmillan
CHAPTER ONE
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Mr Stanforth came from behind his desk to meet his visitor in person, and settle her with ceremony into the client’s chair, though she was not a client, had no need whatever of a solicitor, and had come here in response to his telephoned request chiefly out of pure curiosity, of which she had a woman’s proper share. Mr Stanforth was not entirely what she had expected, but neither, she deduced from the covert glances he was using upon her like measuring instruments, was she quite matching up to his preconceived picture of her. He was small and nimble and immaculate in fine grey mohair, with a clever, froggish, mildly mischievous face, like a very well-turned-out troll from under some Scandinavian mountain. But towards her he was being punctilious in a way which seemed slightly out of character, as though he did not quite know how to approach her, even though it was he who had brought her here.
Her part was easy. She had only to sit back with perfect composure—something at which she was adept—and wait for him to find his way through the necessary preliminaries to the real business of this meeting. After all, he had initiated it. He must have some need of her; she had none of him. This could not even be a matter of learning something to her advantage. Her mind—and she was well aware that it was an elastic and enterprising mind—was quite open. Perhaps that was what baffled him about her. She should have been more concerned, more anxious to
