“A CHILLING WALK THROUGH HISTORY …
If ever there was a place that could fuel a revolution, it was the streets around Whitechapel. And it is this threatening, despairing atmosphere that Perry captures so vividly in her historical thriller.”
“A juicy mystery …
“Anne Perry has outdone herself with
“Perry pulls out the stops and delivers one of the finest performances of her career…. A mesmerizing and suspenseful tale, rich in period detail, rife with articulate and believable characters.”
“One of her best works … Perry deftly weaves the different threads of her story into a powerful tale of corruption, patriotism, and loyalty. She uses her extensive knowledge of the period and actual historical events to heighten the suspense. Superb writing and characterization.”
This book contains an excerpt from
A Ballantine Book
Published by The Random House Publishing Group
Copyright © 2001 by Anne Perry
Excerpt from
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-307-76770-7
www.ballantinebooks.com
v3.1
To Hugh and Anne Pinnock,
in friendship
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
THE COURTROOM at the Old Bailey was crowded. Every seat was taken and the ushers were turning people back at the doors. It was April 18, 1892, the Monday after Easter, and the opening of the London Season. It was also the third day in the trial of distinguished soldier John Adinett for the murder of Martin Fetters, traveler and antiquarian.
The witness on the stand was Thomas Pitt, superintendent of the Bow Street police station.
From the floor of the court Ardal Juster for the prosecution stood facing him.
“Let us start at the beginning, Mr. Pitt.” Juster was a dark man of perhaps forty, tall and slender with an unusual cast of feature. He was handsome in some lights, in others a trifle feline, and there was an unusual grace in the way he moved.
He looked up at the stand. “Just why were you at Great Coram Street? Who called you?”
Pitt straightened up a little. He was also a good height, but he resembled Juster in no other way. His hair was too long, his pockets bulged, and his tie was crooked. He had testified in court since his days as a constable twenty years before, but it was never an experience he enjoyed. He was conscious that at the very least a man’s reputation was at stake, possibly his liberty. In this case it was his life. He was not afraid to meet Adinett’s cold, level stare from the dock. He would speak only the truth. The consequences were not within his control. He had told himself that before he climbed the short flight of steps to the stand, but it had been of no comfort.
The silence had grown heavy. There was no rustling in the seats. No one coughed.
“Dr. Ibbs sent for me,” he replied to Juster. “He was not satisfied with all the circumstances surrounding Mr. Fetters’s death. He had worked with me before on other matters, and he trusted me to be discreet should he be mistaken.”
“I see. Would you tell us what happened after you received Dr. Ibbs’s call?”
John Adinett sat motionless in the dock. He was a lean man, but strongly built, and his face was stamped with the confidence of both ability and privilege. The courtroom held men who both liked and admired him. They sat in stunned disbelief that he should be charged with such a crime. It had to be a mistake. Any moment the defense would move for a dismissal and the profoundest apologies would be offered.
Pitt took a deep breath.
