A.M. Stuart's Blog

Today is the day... nothing more to be done... 
Once release day comes, there is nothing more an author can do except hope that her creation, over which she has agonised for (in my case) 12 long months, is received with kindness. 
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It is bitter sweet because this is the final book in the Harriet Gordon Mysteries... the series arc has concluded. I am not saying it will be farewell to ever to our favourite characters but an adieu for now. 

Rather than have a release party, I have prepared a video in which I answer reader questions about the Harriet Gordon Mysteries and read a chapter from AGONY IN AMETHYST. Just click the button below to watch the video. Watch Release Day Video ABOUT AGONY IN AMETHYST

Curran has been absent in London mopping up the mess from the events of Book 4 and Harriet has found a new position for herself. Now they are back together but Curran has to come to terms with a professional disappointment and the imminent arrival of an important dignitary with whom he has crossed paths in the past. When a school girl dies at a ball, a Pandora's box of dark secrets will be unleashed that threaten to destroy Curran's career ... and possibly the fragile new relationship! 

AGONY IN AMETHYST is available in print and ebook world wide. Audio is coming (hopefully before Christmas). Early reviews are already up on  Goodreads … with thanks to my ARC team.
All the current buy links are on the button below, with the exception of my own store from which you can purchase print books with a personalised dedication… Click  HERE
​One final thing… if you find yourself in need of a character list for any of the Harriet books, you will find them (along with a glossary) on my website. Click HERE . It’s one of those things… you get some readers who love them and others who hate them so the website is my compromise!
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All the best 
Alison xxx

England 1923, Helen and the wounded and reclusive Paul, are haunted not only by the horrors of the trenches but ghosts from another time and another conflict. They are bound together in their search for answers, not only to the old mystery but also the death of Helen’s husband at Passchandaele in 1917. There will be no peace or happiness for them until the mysteries are solved.

GATHER THE BONES (ebook) is currently on preorder for just 99c on Amazon. This price will go up when it releases on 24 October so grab it now!
https://amzn.to/40edSfL

JUST A FEW MORE DAYS TO GO! 

I can say with my hand on my heart that it takes me exactly a year to write a book!

This time last year I was on a writer’s retreat in Tasmania and I first put fingers to keyboard to start writing Book 5 in the Harriet Gordon Mysteries. With the best will in the world I am and always will be, an organic writer… meaning I struggle with plotting my books which is probably why they take so long to write. Anyway I hope the wait has been worth it.

What have our favourite characters been up to since the end of TERROR IN TOPAZ? Well - Curran got sent to London to mop up the mess we left in Kuala Lumpur in the last book so Harriet has been on her own, but I am pleased to say she has finally found steady employment. Esme Prynne, who we met in TERROR IN TOPAZ, has taken on the role of the headmistress of the Singapore Ladies Academy and is employing Harriet as her administrative assistant and part time teacher. Needless to say this is an arrangement that pleases Julian very much. The Empire has been enjoying the spectacle of the coronation of King George V and an important visiting dignitary is about to arrive in Singapore…

So, we are back in Singapore for this book… anything more than that I’m not going to disclose - you will need to read the book!

It is available in print and ebook world wide. Audio is coming (Before Christmas). All the buy links are on the button below, with the exception of my own store from which you can purchase print books with a personalised dedication… Click HERE


With thanks to Paul Rushworth for this AI imagining of Harriet.

Yes... the adventures of Harriet and Curran are continuing and this story will see them back in Singapore after their sojourn in Kuala Lumpur. BUT there are forces at work that will continue to make their lives difficult (probably me... the author!). 

I am absolutely thrilled with the cover for Book 5, AGONY IN AMETHYST (the work of the talented Fiona Jayda Media). The building featured is what is now known in Singapore as the Istana - the Presidential Palace - but in Harriet's time was Government House. You will have to read the book to discover the significance! 

The book will be released in ebook and print editions on 28 October. Audio will come later. 

For now you can preorder the ebook from some distributors and the print book direct from Alison's Bookstore (if you would like it personalised).  PRE ORDER PRINT BOOK AGONY IN AMETHYST An important visitor casts a shadow of darkness and death over Singapore.

Harriet Gordon, newly settled in her new role as a teacher at a girls' school in Singapore, faces uncertainty in her budding relationship with Robert Curran, who has just returned from months in Kuala Lumpur. Curran's expected promotion turns sour when the position is given to an old adversary from his Scotland Yard days.

The arrival of the Colonial foreign secretary, Sir Henry Cunningham, revives memories of one of Curran's unresolved cases. The death of a schoolgirl at a lavish ball, hosted by the Governor in honour of the visitor, brings Curran into direct conflict with his new superior officer. When he confides his suspicions to Harriet, she inadvertently betrays his trust, threatening his already shaky career.

With their relationship on the brink of irreparable damage, a second death changes the course of the investigation. Can Harriet and Curran bring justice to a grieving family and emerge from this ordeal with their connection intact?
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Delve into the captivating world of the Harriet Gordon mysteries. Grab your copy today for a  tale of intrigue and suspense set in the tropical heat of colonial Singapore.

The murder of William Steward by his lover, Ethel Proudlock, on the steps of the headmasters bungalow at the Victoria Institution in April 1911, rocked the colonial world of Malaya. 
It became a cause celebre and was still talked about many years later when a young writer called William Somerset Maugham shared a beer with the lawyer who represented Mrs Proudlock at her trial, EA Wagner. Like all good writers, Somerset Maugham saw a story within the story and penned THE LETTER, based on the Proudlock murder. THE LETTER became a stage play, a film and even an opera... but how many people know the real story of Ethel Proudlock? William Proudlock and, possibly, Ethel... date and source unknown Ethel Charter was 19 when she married the school teacher, William Proudlock in 1907. The Charters were a well-established Kuala Lumpur family but interestingly while Robert Charter is named as her father on her birth certificate, her mother's name is left blank. It is entirely possible she was the offspring of a liaison between her father and a local woman. However, she was brought up as a daughter of the Charter household but it is likely Robert's wife viewed her as the cuckoo in the nest and treated her accordingly.

Like all her family Ethel was a good shot and a keen member of the rifle club. She also dabbled in amateur dramatics. She is generally described as being fair haired and pretty.

Her wedding to Proudlock was a strange affair... a very small number of guests on a weekday afternoon. Her father didn't attend and the bride wore electric blue.

The Proudlocks left that night for England returning with a baby girl (Dorothy) early in 1908. It is more than likely Ethel was a pregnant bride. On her return to KL, Even as a married woman her 'outsider' status within the European community continued, and coupled with ill health, may have contributed to a sense of rejection, isolation, and deep resentment. 

In 1910 Proudlock was appointed as acting headmaster of the school in the absence of the principal who had returned to England. The couple and their daughter moved into the headmaster's house on the grounds of the Victoria Institution. 

William Steward was a single man, the manager of a tin mine at Salak South (although at the time of his death, the mine had closed and he was freelancing as a troubleshooter to other mines). By all accounts he was a rather shy, reserved man who liked a game of rugby. The one image I have seen of him reveals a muscular man in his forties, balding with a high domed forehead and a strong face.

It's not clear when the affair between Ethel and William Steward began but it appears to have been a fairly open secret within the community. The story of the two spending the evening entwined in the back of Steward's motor vehicle during a dinner party was well known (although denied by Ethel) and came up at the trial. 

A few months before his death, Steward took up with a local woman who moved into his house at Salak South. This may have been the catalyst that started the chain of events leading to his death. 

On Sunday 23 April 1911, the Proudlocks spent the afternoon on the shooting range. Ethel had purchased a Webley revolver for her husband's birthday (for self-defence) and was teaching him to use it. They returned home and attended Evensong at St Mary's. Back at the bungalow, William went on to dinner at a colleague's home. Ethel pleaded a headache and remained at home. Meanwhile, William Steward dined with friends at the Empire Club before leaving hurriedly about 9 pm claiming he had an appointment. Steward arrived at the headmaster's bungalow by ricksha and told the ricksha wallah to wait as he would not be long. 

The dinner party at Goodman Ambler's (yes, that was his name) was interrupted at about 9.30 by the Proudlock's cook in a hysterical state demanding Proudlock return home. On arrival at the headmaster's bungalow, Proudlock found his hysterical wife shrieking "Blood, blood! I killed a man"... and the body of William Steward lying in the driveway. Ethel Proudlock had emptied all 6 rounds of the Webley revolver into the man. 

Ethel, found clad in an evening dress that she had not been wearing when Proudlock left home (and, as subsequently discovered... no underwear), claimed to have no memory of the actual shooting after the first shot. 

She claimed self-defence. She had been writing letters on the verandah when Steward arrived, he then proceeded to make a pass at her, and in a panic she seized up the (fully loaded!) revolver she had been using that afternoon and shot him. As he staggered away down the steps of the verandah, she fired again, continuing to shoot as he lay dying at her feet in the driveway - witnessed by the ricksha wallah who had brought Steward to the bungalow. 

In the following weeks, rumours abounded and bizarre stories began to be circulated of Ethel's second lover swimming the Klang River to shoot Steward and then slipping away into the night. 

Ethel maintained her defence but at her subsequent trial she was found guilty and sentenced to hang. Throughout her trial, William Proudlock remained staunchly loyal to his wife. She was eventually reprieved by the Sultan of Selangor. The Proudlocks left Malaya and the marriage disintegrated. Ethel and her daughter died in Florida and Proudlock in Argentina. 

No one could deny that she had indeed shot Steward - being caught with a proverbial smoking gun saying "I did it" is a bit of a giveaway... but why? 

​While I have fictionalised the Proudlocks' story, I kept to the facts of the case so what you read in TERROR IN TOPAZ is a reasonably accurate account of the events of the night of 11 April, based on the contemporary newspaper reports. Harriet Gordon has her own theory as to what transpired that night and you will need to read TERROR IN TOPAZ to explore the facts of this case and what Harriet (and I) think happened. 

You can find images associated with the Proudlock case on my Pinterest Board:  Click HERE Purchase TERROR IN TOPAZ TERROR IN TOPAZ:  Harriet Gordon Mysteries Book 4 The final episode in the riveting HARRIET GORDON MYSTERIES.
  The chance to pursue a new opportunity takes Harriet and her brother Julian, to Kuala Lumpur,  but death is waiting…

Singapore 1910:   Harriet Gordon has been dismissed from the job she loved and finds herself cast adrift. When her brother receives an invitation to visit a prestigious school in Kuala Lumpur, she and Julian decide to leave Singapore behind for a few days, but their pleasant visit takes a dark turn when a visitor to the school is shot dead on the front steps of the headmaster’s bungalow.

After being suspended from the Straits Settlements Police, Inspector Robert Curran has disappeared on a personal quest to find a missing girl but his suspension is not all it appears and he receives secretive orders to investigate the mysterious Topaz Club, which seems to be at the centre of high-level corruption within the colonial government of Malaya.  

The uninvestigated death of a woman with links to the Topaz Club, brings Harriet and Curran together in a determination to shut down the notorious establishment for good.

But a devious criminal stands in the way and it is going to take Harriet and Curran all their resources to bring justice for the victims of the Topaz Club and in doing so, find what it is they have been looking for in each other. 
​(If you are interested in reading more about the case, I highly recommend MURDER ON THE VERANDAH by Eric Lawlor)

Today's the day for the final book in this series of THE HARRIET GORDON MYSTERIES.... Did you see what I did there? I said "THIS SERIES"! 
I'm not sure I am quite ready to let Harriet, Curran and their friends go completely and certainly my readers aren't... so there will be something coming (maybe later next year). However as far as this series arc is concerned, TERROR IN TOPAZ brings it to the end and today is RELEASE DAY! Yay... pop the champagne. 
What to expect with TERROR IN TOPAZ... Firstly a change of scene as Harriet and Julian take a trip north to Kuala Lumpur (KL) at the behest of the headmaster of the Prince Alfred School. Is Julian ready for a change of job? 
The idea for this plot thread came again from my poking around the archives of the Singapore State Library and found the account of an actual murder that took place in KL in April 1911. The wife of the acting headmaster of the Victoria Institution shot dead her lover on the steps of the headmaster's bungalow. This scenario fitted so beautifully into Harriet's world, I had to use it. I will be writing about what is known as the 'Proudlock Murder' in another blog post. 
Secondly, I am guilty of leaving the last book, EVIL IN EMERALD, on a bit of a cliff hanger as Curran goes off on a quest of his own (no spoilers) - probably to KL. So the two plot threads may come together...
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That is where TERROR IN TOPAZ starts... do I manage to pull all the loose threads together for an ending that satisfies the readers? I hope so!

PURCHASE TERROR IN TOPAZ Alison Stuart reads from TERROR IN TOPAZ...  ​If you would like to meet me in person (so as to speak), I have prepared a short release day video. I will talk about the book and read the first chapter :-) Just click the button below  Alison Stuart Reads... The final episode in the riveting HARRIET GORDON MYSTERIES.
The chance to pursue a new opportunity takes Harriet and her brother Julian, to Kuala Lumpur,  but death is waiting…
Singapore 1910:   Harriet Gordon has been dismissed from the job she loved and finds herself cast adrift. When her brother receives an invitation to visit a prestigious school in Kuala Lumpur, she and Julian decide to leave Singapore behind for a few days, but their pleasant visit takes a dark turn when a visitor to the school is shot dead on the front steps of the headmaster’s bungalow.
After being suspended from the Straits Settlements Police, Inspector Robert Curran has disappeared on a personal quest to find a missing girl but his suspension is not all it appears and he receives secretive orders to investigate the mysterious Topaz Club, which seems to be at the centre of high-level corruption within the colonial government of Malaya.  
The uninvestigated death of a woman with links to the Topaz Club, brings Harriet and Curran together in a determination to shut down the notorious establishment for good.
But a devious criminal stands in the way and it is going to take Harriet and Curran all their resources to bring justice for the victims of the Topaz Club and in doing so, find what it is they have been looking for in each other.  NOTE ON AVAILABILITY:   
TERROR IN TOPAZ (Book 4) is available in print and digital editions.
​There will be an audio version but it is a little way off yet. 
Sadly the print edition will not be available in stores but is easily ordered from the usual online stores and if you ask your library (or your local bookshop) nicely they should be able to get it in for you.  AND FINALLY:  If you want more news and updates on the 'where to next' for Harriet Gordon please sign up to Alison Stuart's newsletter!  SIGN UP TO ALISON'S NEWSLETTER

With only two weeks until the release of TERROR IN TOPAZ... here's a short extract for you to read and enjoy... :-)  PURCHASE TERROR IN TOPAZ An extract from
TERROR IN TOPAZ
By A.M. STUART
 
Chapter One
 
SINGAPORE
Monday 28 November 1910
 
From her comfortable chair on the verandah, Harriet Gordon watched the curtain of water fall from the glowering sky. The evening’s torrential downpour reflected her mood. Her ward, Will Lawson, sat on a stool nearby engaged in what was now his nightly duty—oiling the absent Inspector Robert Curran’s cricket bat. The sickly-sweet smell of linseed oil hung in the heavy air, adding nausea to her threatening headache.
“Will, enough! Go and put that stinking stuff away and get on with your homework,” Harriet snapped and then conscious of her harsh tone, added, “Please. I’m sure it doesn’t need to be oiled every single night.”
“But I promised the inspector,” Will mumbled.
“I know you did, but what little I know about cricket bats, I do know they don’t need to be oiled quite so regularly.”
Will glared at her. “I will hate it if he comes back and thinks I didn’t look after it properly.”
Harriet summoned a smile. “I am certain he won’t think that, Will.” She pointed at the door. “Homework.”
Will picked up cloth, oil and cricket bat and stomped inside. Oiling a cricket bat was infinitely preferable to schoolwork.
The side gate that led from St Thomas House to the school squeaked, and Harriet’s brother, Julian, headmaster of St Thomas Church of England Preparatory School for English Boys, ran toward the house, the large umbrella he held doing very little to keep the rain at bay.
Reaching the verandah, he stopped, panting from his exertion, water streaming from his sodden hair down his face. He closed the useless umbrella and leaned it against the verandah rail.
Harriet rose to her feet, but he forestalled the question on her lips by holding up his hand.
“Let me get dry and changed and then we’ll talk,” he said. “Pour us both a whisky. I think we need it.”
It seemed like an age before Julian reappeared, his still-damp hair sticking up where he had roughly toweled it. He patted it down, adjusted his glasses and accepted the glass Harriet held out for him.
“That bad?” she asked, her voice high with tension.
“I haven’t lost my job,” Julian said.
Harriet let out a breath. That had been her greatest fear.
​(To continue reading click READ MORE)

Two weeks earlier she had lost her job, a contract to provide typing and shorthand services to the Detective Branch of the Straits Settlements Police. Inspector Robert Curran, who had employed her services, had himself been suspended and replaced by Inspector John Keogh, a self-righteous prig of a policeman brought in from the Federated Malay States Police Force.
On discovering Harriet’s history with the suffragist cause in England the previous year that had landed her in Holloway prison for a brief time, Keogh had dismissed her. As if that wasn’t enough, he had taken it upon himself to officially inform the Trustees of Julian’s school that they were employing a woman with a criminal past. Though ‘employing’ was a word used lightly, as the school didn’t pay her for her administrative duties. It was understood that board and lodging with the headmaster was sufficient recompense for her services.
Julian had been summoned to a meeting of the trustees to explain himself.
“They could hardly claim they didn’t know,” Harriet said.
“Indeed. Before I even suggested you come out to join me, I discussed it with the bishop, and he raised it with the others. They were prepared to turn a blind—some might say Christian—eye to your transgressions, but once it came to an official notification from the police, they had to be seen to do something.”
Harriet sank into her chair. “And what is that something?”
“I have been officially reprimanded and you are banned from the school premises.” Julian paused and a wry smile twitched his lips. “You are not, however, banned from continuing your, and I quote, ‘excellent services.’ The school typewriter will be relocated here, and I will have to bring the work to you.”
Harriet uttered an unladylike and blasphemous response.
Julian held up his hands. “I know, but in the circumstances, it is the best compromise we could arrive at.”
Harriet looked down at the glass she cradled in her hands. “Oh, Ju, I am so sorry to get you into strife.”
Julian shook his head and smiled. “I’m not. You know I’m proud of you, Harri.”
She managed a watery smile. “I suppose I should be grateful that they are letting me go on typing school reports and demands for school fees.”
Julian stood up and poured them both another whisky. “It's timely in a way. I received a letter from the acting headmaster of the Prince Alfred School in Kuala Lumpur only yesterday. They’re looking for a new senior master in classics and wondered if I would be interested.”
Kuala Lumpur, or KL as it was referred to by most people, was the capital of the Selangor State, one of the Federated Malay States. About two hundred miles north of Singapore, the state had grown around the incredible wealth from the tin mining industry. Such riches were not something the British could resist. Unlike the Straits Settlements, of which Singapore was one, which were under British rule, some thirty years earlier, the Sultan of Selangor had agreed to allow the British to administer the State under a British ‘Resident Minister’ or ‘Resident’, without relinquishing his own control. As other Malay States had joined the Federation, KL had become the administrative center for not just Selangor but all the Federated Malay States.
Harriet stared at him. “Kuala Lumpur? But Julian, you are the headmaster of your own school. It would be something of a backward move for you.”
Julian swilled the whisky in the glass he held. “Truth be told, I’ve been feeling a bit restless. It would be a relief not to have the responsibility of being a school principal and to go back to teaching senior boys again.” Julian sat down, leaning his forearms on his knees as he looked up at his sister, his face grave. “The position comes with a house but best of all, Harri, it means Will could attend at a master’s rate. The Prince Alfred School has an excellent reputation and he’d get the best education we can provide for him.”
And that, Harriet had to agree, was a good argument. They were struggling to find a suitable school for Will when he finished at St Tom’s next summer. A senior school that they could afford would be a Godsend.
“I don’t have to give Robertson an immediate answer,” Julian said. “He’s invited me—us—to visit and look over the school, meet the other staff, and see if we would like the move to Selangor State.”
“Both of us? When?”
Julian hefted a sigh. “The sooner the better. How about this weekend? I am inclined to make a trip of it. I’ve checked the train timetables. There’s a night train that leaves Singapore at 7.15 and gets into KL at 6.56 in the morning. If we go up on the Friday night train and back on the day train on Monday, you can play the tourist in Kuala Lumpur while I hobnob with the school. You’ve not really seen anything of the Malay Peninsula beyond Singapore. Seems like a good opportunity.”
“I have to admit a change of scene would be most welcome,” Harriet said.
Julian straightened and drained his glass. “So be it! If you can prevail on Louisa to take Will in for a few nights, I’ll make the travel arrangements.”
“Where shall we stay?”
“Didn’t I mention? Henry Robertson has invited us to stay with him and his wife at the headmaster’s house.”
“That’s very kind. I hope we won’t be an imposition. Do you know Robertson?”
“I’ve met him a couple of times. Nice chap. I haven’t met his wife. She’s a bit younger I gather. They have a small child and I’m sure she would be glad of some company.” He paused. “You will find Kuala Lumpur is a little different from Singapore. It’s less well established. A much smaller European population so a new face is always welcome.”
“As long as his wife is happy for some company. Does she have a name?”
“Enid…” Julian frowned. “No… Edith.”
“I think this sounds like an excellent plan Julian,” she said.
Julian straightened and smiled. “I agree. Even if I don’t take to Prince Alfred, at least we shall have a break from routine. A change is as good as holiday.”
Harriet finished her drink and her mood lifted. After the despondency of the last few weeks, a weekend in Kuala Lumpur gave her something to look forward to and her mind turned to her packing. As Julian had observed, since her arrival in Singapore the previous January, she had little opportunity to travel and her mind raced to the practicalities of travel and accommodation, and adventure.
 
***
 
Chapter Two
 
Kuala Lumpur, Selangor State
Wednesday 30 November, 1910
 
A suffocating early morning humidity hung over Selangor State and by the time Robert Curran—sometime Inspector with the Straits Settlements Police Force, but currently on suspension—had scrambled up the steep slope to the entrance to the Batu Caves a few miles outside of Kuala Lumpur, he was dripping. He removed his hat, a stylish straw fedora purchased at great expense from John Little & Co the previous week and mopped his face with a clean handkerchief.
Order restored, he paused a moment to take in the cathedral-like beauty of the caves. This first chamber soared above him, hung with heavy stalactites; the ancient stalagmites below, broken and stained by the frequent visitors to the cave system. He could see a second chamber beyond, open to the daylight with vines and the roots of trees crawling over the broken walls as the plants reached for the daylight.
Since leaving Singapore, Curran had been kicking his heels in a run-down plantation house while he waited on a summons. A brief meeting with the Resident of Selangor State, Henry Belfield and Henry Talbot, Commissioner of the Federated Malay States Police, an old acquaintance from his cricketing days, had provided him with very little useful information about his assignment. He had to wait until he was contacted by someone they trusted with a full brief.
The message had come at last. Be at the Batu Caves at nine in the morning and ask for directions to the Dark Cave.
A European man dressed, like Curran, in a linen suit with a high starched collar, stood framed in the entrance to the second cavern. He glanced over his shoulder and, without acknowledging Curran, stepped down into the cave, disappearing from view. Curran waited a few minutes before crossing the floor of the first cavern. He followed the other visitor into the open space beyond. The roof to this cavern had long since fallen in and above him, troops of monkeys, chattering with indignation at the intrusion, scaled the walls to the fringe of trees that overlooked the space below.
“Good morning,” the stranger said.
He sat on a rock, one ankle crossed over his knee as he pulled a pipe from his pocket, carefully packing it with tobacco from a leather pouch.
“Can you direct me to the Dark Cave?” Curran asked.
“It will be closed at this time of day.” The man looked up. “Curran?”
Curran nodded his affirmation. “And you are…?”
“Stephens, Archibald Stephens.”
“This is all a bit Rider Haggard,” Curran said, referring to one of his favorite authors.
Stephens lit his pipe, inhaling and blowing out the smoke. “We don’t know who to trust any more. When you suspect everyone from the Resident down, what else can you do? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Apparently.” Curran caught the scent of the smoke rising from the pipe. “That’s a nice twist.”
Stephens removed the pipe and inspected the contents. “I have it made especially by a little chap in Colombo. Costs me a fortune to bring in but it’s the simple pleasures in life.”
Curran brought his attention back to the reason for this clandestine meeting. “When it comes to trust, can I start with you? Who are you and why should I trust you?”
Stephens nodded. “You must understand, Curran, our relationship with the Sultan and the Council of State is a delicate one. Here in KL, we not only have the administration for the State of Selangor but also the overall establishment for all the Federated Malay States. We are cursed, my friend with not only a Resident for Selangor but also the Resident General for the Federated Malay States, Reginald Watson.” Stephens paused. “Over governed, Curran. That’s when mistakes occur.” He removed the pipe from his mouth and continued. “As to why you should trust me, that’s an excellent question. You can check my bona fides with Belfield himself if you wish. I work in the office of the Accountant and Auditor. It is our task to see that we are, well, how to put it… we are rendering unto Caesar all that is Caesar’s. In the past two years, certain irregularities have been detected, most notably in the area of excise and duties being collected within Selangor State.”
There had been no mention of excise and duties in Curran’s short clandestine briefing on the case. Excise and duties were not part of Curran’s regular duties, let alone any irregular investigations.
“In what way?” he asked, more out of politeness.
“The only dutiable goods imported into the Federated Malay States are opium and spirit liquor. We’re not concerned about the liquor, but we are concerned about opium. There is more opium coming in than we are receiving in duty.”
“The import of opium is not illegal,” Curran pointed out.
He fought back the urge to point out that the question of the appropriate duty not being paid on opium seemed irrelevant when hundreds if not thousands, were victims of the vile substance. In his opinion, it should be banned, not used for profit. But wars had been fought on that subject. It was not for him to argue the point.
“No,” Stephens agreed, “it’s not. But avoidance of duty is. And we’re not talking a few pounds here, Curran. We are talking about thousands of pounds. Money that should be going to the administration of the FMS and into the pockets of the Sultan. He is starting to ask questions.”
“Smuggling?”
Stephens nodded. “Yes. We think it is coming in via Penang.”
Now Curran’s interest was piqued, and he knew the answer even before he asked the question. “Any suspects?”
Stephens nodded. “Khoo Zi Qiang. I believe you may already have crossed paths with him?” Stephens raised an eyebrow.
Curran’s blood ran cold. Khoo Zi Qiang … Li An’s brother and the head of a strong clan in Penang. His investigation into Khoo’s illegal activities in Penang and his involvement with Zi Qiang’s sister, Li An, had nearly killed him – nearly killed them both. The last encounter with Khoo Zi Qiang left both Li An and him with scars both physical and intangible. 
“I am quite familiar with Zi Qiang’s activities,” he said.
Stephens took a puff of his pipe and regarded Curran thoughtfully. “I know, I’ve seen your record and I was in Penang at the time. Do you mind me asking if you are still involved with his sister?”
That pain was still fresh, the scar of Li An’s departure barely healed.
“No,” he said. “She has returned to Penang.” He returned to the subject in hand. “What makes you think Zi Qiang is involved in Selangor State?”
Stephens removed his pipe and pulled his pipe-cleaning tool from a leather pouch. He stared scraping out the bowl of the pipe as he said, “Up until recently, his activities have been confined to Penang but as you probably know, the authorities there are making it increasingly difficult for him, so we suspect he is moving into more vulnerable states, such as Perak and Selangor.”
"I still don’t see why I have been sent up here?”
Stephens pocketed his pipe. “The problem with missing duty is only one symptom in what could be widespread corruption in the colonial administration. That’s why you are here, Curran. I am told that the administration needs someone from outside of Kuala Lumpur to get to the center of the corruption, a certain establishment that has been a thorn in our side for the last two years.”
“The Topaz Club?” Curran suggested.
Stephens’ mustache twitched. “What do you know about the Topaz Club?”
Curran hesitated. He knew more than he could reveal. In recent weeks he had learned that his half-sister, Samrita, had been kidnapped from her home in Laxmangarh and taken to work in the Topaz Club, a mysterious and exclusive ‘Gentleman’s Club’ offering beautiful women and other clandestine pleasures.
When Cuscaden had offered him the assignment in Selangor State, Curran had jumped at the chance it offered to save his sister.
“In my initial briefing from Inspector General Cuscaden, he suggested this might be the case and my brief includes any associations with the Topaz Club,” Curran said.
Stephens nodded. “Commissioner Talbot believes the Topaz Club is being used as a front not only for the illegal import issues but also other nefarious dealings.” He looked up at the bright blue sky beyond the bowl of the fallen cave. “Whoever is behind the club is using it as the means to coerce favorable contracts and deals from the administration.”
“By coerce you mean blackmail?” Curran interposed.
“Quite.”
"And is Khoo Zi Qiang connected to the Topaz Club?”
Stephens let out an audible sigh. “Maybe. Khoo is not an idiot. He uses various companies and other legal entities to cover their tracks. It would take more manpower than we have to trace every single suspect contract. And our other problem is that we don’t know exactly who he has in his pocket. This is a small community, Curran, and we think the very mystique and exclusivity of the Club has made certain senior officials vulnerable.”
“Who exactly?”
“Customs and excise, colonial civil servants, lawyers … police. It may even go as high as the Resident’s own office.”
“You may be right,” Curran said. “I have been indirectly looking at the trafficking of the girls who service the club.”
Stephens raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? It’s not your jurisdiction so what is your interest?”
“Personal,” Curran said. “A favor for a friend but as you have said, once you start looking behind the Topaz Club, it gets very murky.” He steadied himself before he gave too much away. “So, what is it you think I can do?”
“Your assignment is to find out who is behind the Topaz Club and to retrieve the evidence the Club is using as coercion. Everything is done through the man at the Club, Gopal Acharya. Acharya is a slippery customer. He’s done nothing we can bring him in for, apart from running a brothel and gambling premises, none of which are illegal. It’s not just girls and drink at the Topaz Club … there is easy access to opium and gambling. Put all of that together and it spells the end for many a promising career, does it not?”
“Have you visited this establishment?”
“No.” Stephens stood up. “I am ambitious, Curran, and have no wish to stall my career in the colonial service through indiscretion. To all intents and purposes, I live the life of a monk. It can be a lonely existence, but I have a girl back in England and I intend to give her the best of everything.”
“I admire your self-discipline, Stephens.”
Stephens allowed himself a small smile. “You have the full support of the Resident, and of course our Police Commissioner Talbot but, for obvious reasons, they are staying at arm’s length. You are on your own, Curran.”
Not quite.
In his meeting with Talbot, Curran had been given a name… Detective Inspector Charles Wheeler. Curran had meet Wheeler on a couple of occasions.
“He’s a teetotaling Methodist with eight children. Devoted to his wife by all accounts … or too scared of her to step outside the front door. I doubt he’s even heard of the Topaz Club. But keep him out of it if you can, Curran. With Keogh in Singapore, he’s got enough to deal with,” Talbot had said.
“Where do you suggest I start?” Curran said.
Stephens rose to his feet. “The Topaz Club. We want those files. That is our priority. Once we have those names, the rest can be dealt with. We had a contact at the club who said she had the files, but she has disappeared. She’s no longer at the club.”
Curran thought of the girl who may have been his sister Samrita’s friend, Lakshmi. If he was correct, disappeared meant dead.
“If the club no longer has the files, what is the problem?”
Stephens snorted. “The problem is, Curran, we don’t know who has been compromised and just because our friends at the Club know the files are missing, doesn’t mean our chaps do. They can go on being compromised. We need the files.”
“But if the girl is dead?”
Stephens’s eyes widened. “I never said she was dead.”
“What do you know about the body of a girl pulled from the Klang River a few months ago?”
Stephens shook his head. “I vaguely remember something about that. What about her?”
Curran shook his head. “She may be your missing girl.”
Stephens turned away. “Damn it! How do you know that?”
Curran shrugged. “I don’t. Just a policeman’s instinct, Stephens.”
“That makes finding the files even more urgent,” Stephens said.
Curran took a moment to digest the information.
"First things first,” he said. “Where is the Topaz Club?”
The address Curran had followed up in his initial search for Samrita had yielded nothing except an empty house.
“It keeps moving. A few months ago, it moved out of town to what I can best describe as a fortified position, well concealed off the road to the Batu Caves. Not far from here, in fact. I defy anyone to get near it … walls, dogs, and guards. No one gets in or out unless they have a reason to be there. Anything else?”
"Any idea how I get into the Topaz Club? I have this.” Curran produced the card he had taken from the commodities broker, George Sewell, in his last case.
Stephens took the card and turned it over. As Curran knew it contained no information except a gold circle on a black background.
“It’s a start but from what I know you will need a member to introduce you. I suggest the Selangor Club on the Padang is the best place to make the sort of contact that will give you an introduction.”
Stephens fished in his pocket and produced an envelope.
“I’ve been told you are using the name Ronald Sutton as an alias?”
“Correct,” Curran said and rasped his chin, which had reached the point of just looking disreputable. He needed a bit longer before he could sport a decent beard.
“If there are any problems with gaining entry to the Selangor Club, this is a letter of introduction from a respectable Gentlemen’s club in London. I am sure the club will welcome you with open arms.”
Curran took the envelope and tucked it into his own pocket.
“How do I contact you?”
“Leave a message with the concierge at the Empire Hotel addressed to Mr. Giles. It needs say nothing more than ‘The Batu Caves are highly recommended’ and I will find you.”
Curran refrained from rolling his eyes. He was a plain policeman and had little time for these Boys' Own adventures.
He left Stephens gazing up at the vault of the sky above him and returned to the outside world and his newly acquired motor vehicle, a 1908 Sheffield Simplex that he’d picked up for a song in Johor. He abhorred motor vehicles but recognized he needed the independence that having his own transport gave him, and he liked the Sheffield Simplex because it had only two gears: forward and reverse. 
On the drive back into town, he passed through the rows of rubber trees and patches of jungle but saw no building resembling Stephens’s description. If the Topaz Club was tucked away off this road, it was indeed well hidden.
 
END OF EXTRACT:  To purchase the book:  Click HERE
(For release 18 October 2023)
​​ PURCHASE TERROR IN TOPAZ

Just one month to go until TERROR IN TOPAZ is released.

Pre orders are available (ebook only at this stage but print will be up soon).

Just one month to go until TERROR IN TOPAZ is released.

Pre orders are available (ebook only at this stage but print will be up soon).

BUY LINKS - THE UMBRELLA In advance of the October 18 release of the 4th Harriet Gordon Mystery, TERROR IN TOPAZ, I am delighted to advise that the Harriet Gordon prequel, THE UMBRELLA is now available on your favourite ebook distributor. 

Previously this book has only been available to newsletter subscribers so I am very excited that it is now 'wide'. It has been substantially revised and has a fabulous new cover in keeping with the whole series. 

So if you are curious about how Harriet Gordon came to be in Singapore and are interested in a more detailed look into her brush with the suffragettes and the horrors of Holloway, download THE UMBRELLA now.  It is only a short novella but you do get to meet some of the other important people in Harriet's life... and one important person in Curran's! 
​ The cause may be righteous, but the price she had paid had been too high
The short heart-wrenching prequel to SINGAPORE SAPPHIRE - the first in the Harriet Gordon Mysteries.
​
London 1909:  Returning to London after her years in India ended in the tragic death of her husband and son, Harriet Gordon struggles to find her place in her parent's comfortable middle-class world.
The suffragette movement answers the need for belonging until she is falsely accused of assaulting a police constable and finds herself in Holloway ...  PRE ORDER TERROR IN TOPAZ Why did Harriet Gordon become a Suffragette...?  "…Joining the WSPU had been an impulse.
Not long after her return from India, Harriet had been walking through Hyde Park when she had come across Emmeline Pankhurst speaking to a large crowd of women. Some, like her, looked as if they had just stumbled upon the gathering. Others wore sashes of purple, green and white and carried Votes for Women placards.
Listening to the speakers, every injustice Harriet had felt meted out against her came to the fore … her father’s refusal to even consider her attending university to study law, her mother’s insistence that education was wasted on a woman whose sole purpose in life was to marry well and produce grandchildren. Even her late husband, James’s absent-minded neglect over the years. The single, simple right to vote and have a say in the government of the country, the future of women across the land, formed in her throat.
“Votes for Women,” she joined the chorus…"