Lestrade and the Devil's Own (Inspector Lestrade, #14) (eBook, ePUB)
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Book fourteen in the Inspector Lestrade series.'From his brimstone bed at the break of day,A-walking the Devil is gone,To visit his snug little farm, the earth,And see how his stock goes on.'Coleridge and Southey'Sholto Joseph Lestrade, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Mrs Millicent Millichip on January 13th last in the City of Westminster.'Lestrade had never been arrested before. Neither had he faced the drop. But when a woman died in his arms in the middle of a London pea-souper, the Fates were stacked against him. Millicent Millichip, as it turned out, was not the only victi...
Book fourteen in the Inspector Lestrade series.
'From his brimstone bed at the break of day,
A-walking the Devil is gone,
To visit his snug little farm, the earth,
And see how his stock goes on.'
Coleridge and Southey
'Sholto Joseph Lestrade, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Mrs Millicent Millichip on January 13th last in the City of Westminster.'
Lestrade had never been arrested before. Neither had he faced the drop. But when a woman died in his arms in the middle of a London pea-souper, the Fates were stacked against him. Millicent Millichip, as it turned out, was not the only victim in a series of murders where the only clue was the Devil's calling card. And the Devil struck in such diverse places as the croquet lawn of Castle Drogo, the theatre of war games on Hounslow Heath and the offices of Messrs Constable, publishers extraordinary, in Orange Street.
The condemned cell at Pentonville is a lonely place, even for a man with a loving family and powerful friends. But are they powerful enough?
'From his brimstone bed at the break of day,
A-walking the Devil is gone,
To visit his snug little farm, the earth,
And see how his stock goes on.'
Coleridge and Southey
'Sholto Joseph Lestrade, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Mrs Millicent Millichip on January 13th last in the City of Westminster.'
Lestrade had never been arrested before. Neither had he faced the drop. But when a woman died in his arms in the middle of a London pea-souper, the Fates were stacked against him. Millicent Millichip, as it turned out, was not the only victim in a series of murders where the only clue was the Devil's calling card. And the Devil struck in such diverse places as the croquet lawn of Castle Drogo, the theatre of war games on Hounslow Heath and the offices of Messrs Constable, publishers extraordinary, in Orange Street.
The condemned cell at Pentonville is a lonely place, even for a man with a loving family and powerful friends. But are they powerful enough?
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