A Wreath of Lilies
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A Wreath of Lilies: Miss Gascoigne mysteries book 2 - a traditional romantic cosy mystery set in the swinging 60s The Miss Gascoigne mysteries are a series of traditional amateur detective mysteries set in Britain in the 'Swinging 60s' and featuring Diana 'Dee' Gascoigne as an amateur detective who stumbles over dead bodies almost as often as your average dog-walker. Between jobs and with a penchant for solving a mystery, she is aided and abetted by her brother Rob, a trainee barrister, who helps her to pit her wits against the 'official' team of investigators, which sometimes includes her 'ki...
A Wreath of Lilies: Miss Gascoigne mysteries book 2 - a traditional romantic cosy mystery set in the swinging 60s The Miss Gascoigne mysteries are a series of traditional amateur detective mysteries set in Britain in the 'Swinging 60s' and featuring Diana 'Dee' Gascoigne as an amateur detective who stumbles over dead bodies almost as often as your average dog-walker. Between jobs and with a penchant for solving a mystery, she is aided and abetted by her brother Rob, a trainee barrister, who helps her to pit her wits against the 'official' team of investigators, which sometimes includes her 'kind-of cousin', Inspector Bill Hardy, and his sidekick, Sergeant Nahum 'Nat' Porter. On her first 'official' investigator case working for Montague Montague of London, legal services, Dee Gascoigne is off to the village of Hartwell Priory in Essex, where locals are up in arms over the proposal to dig up their deceased ancestors buried in the local cemetery, in order to make way for three hundred new houses. As if things aren't tense enough, a group of beatnik-like long-haired, bead wearing ghost hunters arrive and hold a séance. A message from beyond the grave seems to indicate that a grave has been forgotten. Is this just a prank, or does someone know of a secret burial? Who is the unclaimed one who has not been mourned? Short extract: A saffron-clad man with hair reaching almost to his waist began to speak, and his cohorts stepped back and bent to sit on the ground, cross-legged and silent. 'Again the unclaimed one calls out to you, heart to heart, spirit to spirit, and begs to be brought home, to be mourned and released, no longer to be cast adrift between this world and the next. They cry out to you for your pity. Do not turn away from their plea. We who seek implore you...' But he got no further. A couple of the men at the head of the rabble of villagers rushed forward to break through the circle of seated chanters, grabbing a couple of them by their arms or legs and dragging them away from the group. Someone kicked the fire brazier over, and predictably instead of going out, the flames caught at the tall grasses and set them alight. People began to yell, the flames spread, someone threw a punch and within seconds there was a brawl. The flowing white robe of a young woman caught alight. Galvanised into action, Dee rushed forward to throw the girl onto the ground, tearing off her own jacket to quickly smother the flames. Mercifully, the girl was unharmed, Dee thought. She shuddered to think what might have happened had her jacket not been to hand. ***
