S.L. Beaumont's Blog

My favourite books this year were a mix of crime and historical fiction, in no particular order:

The Briar Club by Kate Quinn

Set in post-World War II Washington, D.C., this novel is full of mystery and secrets, with a fascinating cast of characters and a cleverly woven twist. The story depicts the paranoia of the McCarthy era, shifting societal attitudes and the changing roles of women. Highly recommended.

The Shadows of War series by CW Browning

Evelyn Ainsworth was the spy the Germans never saw coming. An aristocratic heiress with a penchant for languages, Evelyn is recruited to MI6 at the outbreak of World War II and thrown into near-impossible situations, first in Norway, then in Belgium and France as the Nazi war machine rolls across Europe. With her spitfire pilot boyfriend, Miles Lacey, risking his life every day defending the skies over England, the pair must fight with everything they have to survive. I devoured this 7-part series, and eagerly await the next instalment.

Lola in the Mirror by Trent Dalton

Trent Dalton’s unique storytelling shines in this gritty yet heartwarming tale of a girl with no name and her mother on the run from the law and living on the streets of Brisbane. The girl dreams of life as an artist and a way out of the grip of the city’s drug dealers. Loved it.

The Bookshop Detectives: Dead Girl Gone by Gareth Ward & Louise Ward

Set in New Zealand’s Hawkes Bay, ex-cops Garth and Eloise, owners of a bookshop, The Sherlock Tomes, are attempting to host an international book launch while trying to solve a decades-old murder. This is a funny, engaging read with a cast of quirky characters.

Lessons In Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus

Elizabeth Zott, a gifted research chemist, finds herself the unlikely star of a 1960s TV cooking show. This is a fabulous, at times funny, look at feminism and resilience. I can’t wait to see this one on the big screen.

The Last Secret Agent by Pippa Latour with Jude Dobson

This is the astonishing true story of one of the last SOE agents to escape France alive after the liberation of France in 1944. Pippa Latour lived an extraordinary life full of adventure long before she joined Britain’s Special Operations Executive during World War II. It’s a fascinating read.

It was so hard narrowing down my favourite books this year, but these were my top five.

The Disappearance of Astrid Bricard by Natasha Lester

This one ticked all of the boxes for me – interwoven timeline historical fiction, fashion and France! Lester’s tale of three generations of Bricard women has been described as Vogue meets Daisy Jones & the Six and is a page-turning story of feminism and fashion.

The Codebreaker’s Secret by Sara Ackerman

A fantastic dual timeline novel set in Hawaii. In 1943 a brilliant female codebreaker sets out to avenge her brother’s death In 1965, a young journalist covering the opening of a new hotel in Hawaii uncovers a decades old mystery. Loved it.

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

I was a little late to the party on this wonderful Pulitzer Prize winner by Colson Whitehead. The story follows Cora, a slave on a cotton plantation in Georgia on her desperate bid for freedom to escape the horrors and brutality of her life.

The Last Devil to Die by Richard Osman

Book 4 in the Thursday Murder Club series didn’t disappoint. When a friend dies and the package he was hiding disappears, the gang dig into the antiques trade, while dealing with heartbreak close to home. This series will be amazing on screen.

All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

I re-read this wonderful novel again ahead of watching the excellent Netflix series. The story of a blind French girl and a young German soldier unknowingly linked by a children’s radio show, whose lives collide in St Malo in occupied France as they both try to survive World War II. Both heartbreaking and heartwarming.

As usual, compiling my favourite reads of the year has been tough! There are many great stories out there, but in no particular order, these made it to the top of my list for 2022.

The Bullet That Missed by Richard Osman

The third book in The Thursday Murder Club series did not disappoint, and along with a great story, Osman once again imbued his characters with warmth and humour. Rumour has it that Steven Spielberg has optioned the rights to make a movie – can’t wait!

The Three Lives of Alix St. Pierre by Natasha Lester

Alix St Pierre hopes that a post-war job for fashion designer Christian Dior in Paris will finally allow her to leave the horrors of World War II behind her. But when her dangerous past catches up with her, she must outwit a master chameleon—another brilliant historical fiction novel from Natasha Lester.

Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell

This beautifully written novel gives a rich and vivid portrait of life in 16th Century England, but at its heart, it is a story of motherhood, loss and grief. The accolades heaped upon this book are well-deserved; O’Farrell’s lyrical prose deals with both devastation and love in a moving and powerful way.

Quiet in her Bones by Nalini Singh

I loved this crime thriller set on Auckland’s West Coast. When the bones of Nina Rai are discovered deep in the forest near her luxury home ten years after she disappeared, along with a quarter of a million dollars, her disappearance becomes a murder investigation. Her now-adult son must delve deep into the past to construct an accurate picture of events that fateful night.

The Mayfair Bookshop by Eliza Knight

Bright young thing and infamous Mitford sister Nancy takes a job at Heywood Hill bookshop during World War II as she struggles not only with a family including two Nazi-sympathiser sisters, an unfaithful and always broke husband, but also her own writing career. Here she discovers a new life in war-torn London – one not without its dangers. This dual-timeline historical fiction novel sees modern-day book curator Lucy St. Clair trying to uncover the link between their families through a personal inscription in a first edition of Nancy’s work. A fascinating portrait set around a legendary bookshop.

The Ink Black Heart by Robert Galbraith

The latest instalment of the Cormoran Strike crime series sees Cormoran and Robin delving deep into a cult online game in search of a killer known only by their online alias. Atmospheric and rich with detail, this one will keep you guessing.

Dark Deeds Down Under, edited by Craig Sisterson

I highly recommend this showcase of Australian and New Zealand crime writing featuring Vanda Symon, RWR McDonald, Stephen Ross, Alan Carter and others.

Once again, trying to list my favourite reads this year was tough! I read so many good books and discovered a number of new authors along the way. But these were the standouts (in no particular order)

      The Rose Code by Kate Quinn

The Rose Code is a wonderful blend of love, secrets, spies and suspense. This well-researched story centres around three women who come together to work at Bletchley Park, Britain’s secret World War II code breaking facility. The fact that many of the characters and fictional stories are based on war time diaries and first-hand accounts, makes for an even more fascinating read.

  The Thursday Murder Club and The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman

The Thursday Murder Club is a fabulous, heart-warming mystery novel about a group of resourceful pensioners who meet to review unsolved cold cases, until their peaceful retirement village is shocked by not one, but two murders. Suddenly The Thursday Murder Club find themselves in the middle of their first live case! Clever writing, with plenty of red herrings and a cast of fun characters. In the second book in the series, The Man Who Died Twice, Elizabeth receives a letter from a dead man and The Thursday Murder Club are back in action avoiding mafia hit men and racing to find stolen diamonds.

  Before You Knew My Name by Jacqueline Bublitz

One of the best books that I read this year. Ruby Jones, newly arrived in New York looking for a fresh start, discovers the body of a young women while out jogging one morning. But this isn’t just another story about a dead girl and the search for her killer, it’s a story about friendship, missed opportunities, heartbreak and love.

  The Riviera House by Natasha Lester

Another well-researched, most enjoyable, dual timeline historical fiction novel from Natasha Lester. Nazi art theft in Paris is at the heart of a story full of danger, intrigue and compelling characters, together with the glamour of the Riviera and vintage fashion.

The Nancys by R.W.R. McDonald

A clever, dark and funny mystery novel all about family and fitting in. When her teacher is murdered, Tippy, her Uncle Pike and his boyfriend Devon (visiting from Australia to look after Tippy while her Mum is away), use their shared love of old Nancy Drew books to form The Nancys, a secret crime solving club, to solve the murder. I’m looking forward to the follow up, Nancy Business.

Sisters of the Resistance by Christine Wells

A gripping story inspired by Catherine Dior’s (sister of fashion designer Christian) Parisian resistance network during World War II. Richly researched, with the glamour of 1940s fashion juxtaposed against the menace of war and deprivation.

  The Century Trilogy by Ken Follett

I loved these three books. Beginning with Fall of Giants, the saga follows the intermingling lives of five families; Welsh, English, German, American and Russian through the First World War, the Russian Revolution, the struggle for women’s suffrage and a changing social landscape. Winter of the World follows the families through the enormous political, social and economic turmoil of the years leading up to and during World War II and into the beginning of the Cold War. Edge of Eternity follows the next generation through the turmoil of the 1960s to 1980s with civil rights, political assassinations, the Cuban Missile Crisis, Vietnam and the rise and fall of the Berlin Wall, all set against a backdrop of changing social norms and rock and roll. Wow!

  Blood on Vines by Madeline Eskedahl

The peace and tranquillity of the beautiful wine growing region of Matakana is broken by the discovery of a severed hand beneath a farm house. Four old friends are being targeted, but by whom and why? Fabulous descriptions and a community of interesting characters, this is a thrilling, page-turning crime novel.

My favourite reads of 2020 were really hard to narrow down, but here goes. This a bit of a mixed reading bag from mysteries and thrillers (of course) to historical fiction and some lighter reads (and who didn’t need those this year?).

Code Name Helene by Ariel Lawhon

Code Name Helene is a fabulous fictional account of the exploits of real-life socialite turned spy, Australian Nancy Wake, known by several codes names, including the White Mouse, by the Germans who hunted her. Forced to escape from France, leaving her French husband behind, Nancy joins the Special Operations Executive (SOE) in England and is soon dropped back behind enemy lines to help prepare the resistance for D-Day. This is a page-turning story of love, courage and unwavering determination.

Troubled Blood by Robert Galbraith

Troubled Blood is the fifth instalment in the Cormoran Strike series. The books are great, as is the TV series, C.B Strike.  Cormoran and Robin, his partner in their London detective agency, take on a 40-year old cold case involving the disappearance of a London doctor involving tarot cards, unreliable witnesses and a serial killer. I loved the way the mystery unfolded alongside the development in the relationship between the two main characters. I’m eagerly awaiting the next book.

The Night Tiger by Yangsze Choo

The Night Tiger is a page-turning murder mystery set against the colonial backdrop of 1930s Malaysia. Jin Li, working as a dance hall girl to repay her mother's Mahjong debts finds a mummified finger in a specimen jar. Ren, an 11-year-old orphan is looking for his dead Master's severed finger. The tale weaves a mix of folklore, ghosts, and a mysterious deadly tiger stalking the colony as their lives intertwine. This is a beautifully written story of love, loss, greed, and murder.

The Paris Secret by Natasha Lester

Natasha Lester has made writing dual timeline, World War II women’s fiction something of an art form and following on from her best-selling novel The Paris Photographer, The Paris Secret doesn’t disappoint.

When a Sydney fashion conservator discovers a wardrobe full of Dior gowns hanging in her grandmother’s vacant cottage in England, she uncovers in her family’s past, a group of brave and daring aviatrix working for the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force during World War II, ferrying aircraft to and from factories to airbases in Britain, often under extreme circumstances. A story of love, bravery and sacrifice, the courage of the SOE and the French Resistance shines through along with the little known story of Christian Dior’s war hero sister Catherine.

What Goes on Tour by Gillian Scott

Imagine that Bridget Jones had been a tour guide in 1990s Europe…

What Goes on Tour is a fun, entertaining romp through Europe in 1996 as Shaz, with cassette tapes at the ready, leads a busload of partying young travellers whilst trying to make fellow tour guide RHR (ridiculously handsome Roger), realise that she is the one for him, and attempting to not mess up and lose her job in the process. But, as Shaz quickly discovers, the road to true love has a few unexpected twists and bumps along the way.

A light-hearted, funny book which will bring back memories for anyone who travelled in Europe in the 1990s!

Wife After Wife by Olivia Hayfield

Wife After Wife is a modern retelling of the life of King Henry VIII. What if Henry VIII was a 21st-century media magnate living in London? And his wives? - divorced, murdered, died, divorced, departed, survived! This was a quick, fun read.

Anyone who knows me will know that I LOVE London. I lived there back in the 1990s and visit every couple of years.

Whilst most visitors flock to the usual tourist sites (and I have visited many of them, at least once over the years), London has many hidden gems and quirky places to satisfy both book lovers and history buffs, if you just know where to look.

So here are ten places in London that are perhaps not quite so well known, that I always enjoy visiting (and some of these just happen to turn up in my novels.)

1. The Banqueting House

This historical gem on Whitehall is often overlooked by visitors to the city, but it is well worth taking the time to lay back in one of the beanbags scattered throughout James I’s fabulous banqueting hall to admire the amazing Rubens ceiling – one of the few such decorations to survive Oliver Cromwell’s reformation. You can also stand where Charles I walked out onto the scaffold to his execution.

Photo credit: SL Beaumont

2.      The Brunel Museum

Brunel’s Thames tunnel was the engineering marvel of its day and the Grand Entrance Hall is now host to musical and theatre events throughout the year. This scheduled Ancient Monument was described as the Eighth Wonder of the World when it opened in the mid-19th century.

 3.      Brompton Cemetery

There’s something about wandering through an old cemetery reading headstones and watching squirrels and other wildlife going about their business. Brompton Cemetery was designed to be a tranquil garden as well as a cemetery when it opened in 1840. Over 200,000 people are buried here including the suffragette Emmeline Pankhurst.

Photo credit: ZJ Beaumont

4.      Churchill War Rooms

Beneath the streets of Westminster, lies a labyrinth of tunnels and rooms which were the top-secret home of Churchill’s war cabinet during the Second World War. Featured in many books and movies, visiting the real thing is endlessly fascinating. The addition of a museum dedicated to the life of Sir Winston Churchill puts it right up there on my list of must-sees in the capital.

5.      The Queen’s Walk

Get above ground and wander along the Queen’s Walk from Westminster Bridge along the South Bank to the Millennium Bridge. Hailed as one of London’s great walks, it will take you past not only the London Eye, the National Theatre, the Tate Modern, and the replica of Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, but you also get fantastic views across the river to St. Paul’s and the city of London. If you don’t cross the Millennium Bridge to St Paul’s Cathedral, keep walking towards London Bridge and you come to the foodie haven of Borough Market. As you pass Southwark Cathedral, be sure to pop in and see the Shakespeare memorial which appears in The Carlswick Mythology.

6.      The Albert Memorial

The Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens is one of the grandest Victorian moments around and commemorates the death of Queen Victoria’s beloved husband Prince Albert at the age of 42. The intricate detail of the monument and magnificent gold statue of Albert gazing across the road towards the spectacular Albert Hall makes it well worth a visit, as Stephanie found when she stops to admire it, in The Carlswick Treasure. The statue was painted black during World War I, so that he wouldn’t be a shining target for the German Zeppelins and it wasn’t until an extensive restoration project in the 1980s that the gold leaf was rediscovered under the paint and Albert was re-gilded to his former glory.

7.      221B Baker Street

Fans of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle will love the period museum created at 221B Baker Street, the fictional home to his famous detective Sherlock Holmes.

Photo credit: SL Beaumont

8.      Disused Underground Stations

There are several disused underground stations around London, many of which have a fascinating story. Some were used to hide treasures from institutions such as the British Museum, V&A, and National Gallery during both World Wars and a number were used as air-raid shelters during the Blitz. Some have now been converted into underground hydroponic vegetable gardens supplying fresh salad ingredients to many of the city’s restaurants, whilst others are used as film sets. Perhaps the most famous, Aldwych Station, is now open for guided tours and this is where Stephanie took refuge in The Carlswick Mythology.

9.         London’s Pubs

No visit to London is complete without a drink (and usually great food) at one of the many historic pubs. Some of my favourites include The Blackfriar, the flower festooned Churchill Arms, the Dickins Inn (where Jess and Will met for lunch in Shadow of Doubt) and Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, especially for its famous literary links.

Photo credit: Richard Mcall from Pixabay

10.       London Bookshops

There is something special about spending an afternoon trawling through bookstores and London has an impressive array, from new to second-hand to those stocking rare collectibles. My favourites include the always wonderful Daunt Books, Waterstones at Piccadilly covering eight floors (I can recommend their bar, 5th View on the top floor), Persephone Books (overlooked women writers of the 20th century, anyone?) and any of the bookshops in Cecil Court a narrow Victorian alleyway comprised almost entirely of book sellers (this was apparently JK Rowling’s inspiration for Diagon Alley in the Harry Potter series.)

Photo credit: Foundry Co from Pixabay

Anyone who knows me will know that I LOVE London. I lived there back in the 1990s and visit every couple of years.

Whilst most visitors flock to the usual tourist sites (and I have visited many of them, at least once over the years), London has many hidden gems and quirky places to satisfy both book lovers and history buffs, if you just know where to look.

So here are ten places in London that are perhaps not quite so well known, that I always enjoy visiting (and some of these just happen to turn up in my novels.)

1. The Banqueting House

This historical gem on Whitehall is often overlooked by visitors to the city, but it is well worth taking the time to lay back in one of the beanbags scattered throughout James I’s fabulous banqueting hall to admire the amazing Rubens ceiling – one of the few such decorations to survive Oliver Cromwell’s reformation. You can also stand where Charles I walked out onto the scaffold to his execution.

Photo credit: SL Beaumont

2.      The Brunel Museum

Brunel’s Thames tunnel was the engineering marvel of its day and the Grand Entrance Hall is now host to musical and theatre events throughout the year. This scheduled Ancient Monument was described as the Eighth Wonder of the World when it opened in the mid-19th century.

 3.      Brompton Cemetery

There’s something about wandering through an old cemetery reading headstones and watching squirrels and other wildlife going about their business. Brompton Cemetery was designed to be a tranquil garden as well as a cemetery when it opened in 1840. Over 200,000 people are buried here including the suffragette Emmeline Pankhurst.

Photo credit: ZJ Beaumont

4.      The Queen’s Walk

Get above ground and wander along the Queen’s Walk from Westminster Bridge along the South Bank to the Millennium Bridge. Hailed as one of London’s great walks, it will take you past not only the London Eye, the National Theatre, the Tate Modern, and the replica of Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, but you also get fantastic views across the river to St. Paul’s and the city of London. If you don’t cross the Millennium Bridge to St Paul’s Cathedral, keep walking towards London Bridge and you come to the foodie haven of Borough Market. As you pass Southwark Cathedral, be sure to pop in and see the Shakespeare memorial which appears in The Carlswick Mythology.

 

5.      Churchill War Rooms

Beneath the streets of Westminster, lies a labyrinth of tunnels and rooms which were the top-secret home of Churchill’s war cabinet during the Second World War. Featured in many books and movies, visiting the real thing is endlessly fascinating. The addition of a museum dedicated to the life of Sir Winston Churchill puts it right up there on my list of must-sees in the capital.

 

6.      The Albert Memorial

The Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens is one of the grandest Victorian moments around and commemorates the death of Queen Victoria’s beloved husband Prince Albert at the age of 42. The intricate detail of the monument and magnificent gold statue of Albert gazing across the road towards the spectacular Albert Hall makes it well worth a visit, as Stephanie found when she stops to admire it, in The Carlswick Treasure. The statue was painted black during World War I, so that he wouldn’t be a shining target for the German Zeppelins and it wasn’t until an extensive restoration project in the 1980s that the gold leaf was rediscovered under the paint and Albert was re-gilded to his former glory.

 

7.      221B Baker Street

Fans of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle will love the period museum created at 221B Baker Street, the fictional home to his famous detective Sherlock Holmes.

Photo credit: SL Beaumont

 

8.      Disused Underground Stations

There are several disused underground stations around London, many of which have a fascinating story. Some were used to hide treasures from institutions such as the British Museum, V&A, and National Gallery during both World Wars and a number were used as air-raid shelters during the Blitz. Some have now been converted into underground hydroponic vegetable gardens supplying fresh salad ingredients to many of the city’s restaurants, whilst others are used as film sets. Perhaps the most famous, Aldwych Station, is now open for guided tours and this is where Stephanie took refuge in The Carlswick Mythology.

 

9.         London’s Pubs

No visit to London is complete without a drink (and usually great food) at one of the many historic pubs. Some of my favourites include The Blackfriar, the flower festooned Churchill Arms, the Dickins Inn (where Jess and Will met for lunch in Shadow of Doubt) and Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, especially for its famous literary links.

Photo credit: Richard Mcall from Pixabay

10.       London Bookshops

There is something special about spending an afternoon trawling through bookstores and London has an impressive array, from new to second-hand to those stocking rare collectibles. My favourites include the always wonderful Daunt Books, Waterstones at Piccadilly covering eight floors (I can recommend their bar, 5th View on the top floor), Persephone Books (overlooked women writers of the 20th century, anyone?) and any of the bookshops in Cecil Court a narrow Victorian alleyway comprised almost entirely of book sellers (this was apparently JK Rowling’s inspiration for Diagon Alley in the Harry Potter series.)

Photo credit: Foundry Co from Pixabay

Shadow of Doubt

(published July 25,2019)

by SL BeaumontChapter 1

July 10

“For God’s sake, get one of the others to do it,” I said, exasperated, as I looked up from my computer at my boss who was leaning on the wall of my cubicle.

“No. It’s your turn,” Andrew replied turning away, signaling an end to the conversation.

I sighed and stood up, stretching my back. Three hours straight sitting at a desk wasn’t good. I had been hoping to squeeze in a trip to the gym after work to loosen everything up, but it looked like my evening was going in entirely another direction.

Hesitating only for a moment, I followed Andrew down the row to his cubicle, not willing to give in quite so easily. Andrew was a heavyset man in his mid-thirties. His thinning hair was cropped close to his head, but did nothing to detract from his good looks. He oozed charm and ruled his team of accountants and analysts in the derivatives division of the investment bank, Dobson Stone, with a mixture of fear and admiration. To be on Andrew’s good side was like being bathed in the warmth of sunshine, but do wrong by him and it felt like being exposed to the iciest of winters. Fortunately, I had only ever felt the heat of summer, which gave me the opportunity to push the boundaries. And now was when I needed one of those opportunities.

“Come on, Andrew. You know that you’re going to employ him anyway.” I flashed my most winning smile at him. “Let’s just skip this bit.”

‘This bit’ was the tradition in the team of finally vetting any new recruit by taking them out to a local watering hole and doing a ‘social’ interview. The derivatives team was a close knit, play hard, work hard group and Andrew was a big fan of team players. Ever since the disastrous recruitment of an accountant named Peter, who had been hired without the social interview, Andrew had deemed it mandatory. Peter had passed all of the other interview stages with flying colors, but once he joined the team his lack of humor, aversion to socializing with his colleagues and propensity to back stab had caused major problems.

“Need to make sure he’s not another Peter, Jess. And besides, William seems like the kind of guy who will appreciate a pretty face.” Andrew grinned, knowing full well that the latter comment would annoy me and distract me from my argument.

Putting my hands on my hips, I scowled at him and practically hissed, “I can’t believe you just said that. I will report you to the Diversity Committee. Maybe select me for my knowledge of the business or my social charm, but because of my looks? Give me a break.”

Andrew threw back his head and roared with laughter. He had one of those loud laughs which made people stop what they were doing and look in his direction, in case they were missing something really good. Jimmy looked up from the next cubicle, catching the end of my rant. He and fellow Antipodean Dave were always quick with a quip and up for anything. They were usually behind the many practical jokes that went on at the office and they never, ever, missed an opportunity to wind someone up.

“Watch out, Scotty is about to blow,” Jimmy called out to anyone in the team who was listening. Jimmy had an open, friendly face. At the tender age of twenty-four, he already had smile lines surrounding his mischievous eyes. He had the physique of the champion fighters in his family, but not the temperament. Andrew and I both glared at him. Still grinning, he held his hands up as if to protect himself and sat down again.

“Machiavelli’s Wine Bar, seven pm,” Andrew instructed and turned to pick up his ringing phone. I was dismissed with a wave of his hand.

I returned to my cubicle muttering about the appropriateness of the venue, and picked up my mobile to call my husband Colin. He answered on the second ring.

“Make it quick, Jess. I’m having a crazy day.”

“I have to work late, a recruitment interview in a pub of all things,” I said.

“Which one?”

“Machiavelli’s.”

“Okay. Good. Gotta go.” He was gone. I wasn’t even sure that he had heard me.

Jimmy and Dave stopped by my desk as I was shutting down my computer at the end of the day. Dave was the opposite of Jimmy physically, short and slight with a mop of messy blond hair, but he shared his friend’s sense of fun.

“Where are you meeting him?” Dave asked, picking up my stapler and twirling it around.

“At Machiavelli’s up by St. Paul’s,” I replied, taking the stapler from his hands and replacing it on the desk, only to have him pick up my hole punch instead. “I will know which kleptomaniac to come after if I come in tomorrow and there are stationery items missing,” I warned him with a grin.

Dave simply laughed, putting the hole punch back in its place, and swiped my favorite pen instead. I shook my head at him. He was incorrigible.

“We’ll be at The Tower if you wanna meet after,” Jimmy said, naming the pub closest to the office as we walked towards the bank of lifts to take us down to the lobby entrance of the building.

“Okay, see you there in fifteen minutes,” I said, only half joking. Seriously, I was going to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.

***

The rain had stopped and the early evening sun bathed the city in a soft glow. The old fashioned wrought iron streetlamps that lined the road towards St. Paul’s Cathedral hadn’t yet turned on. Machiavelli’s was on a corner and had floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows wrapping around both street views. It was already busy for a Wednesday night, with groups of men and women dressed in business attire gathered around tables chatting and laughing.

I stepped off the street and entered through the open doors. The bar itself was brightly lit with strings of tiny lights draped from one corner of the room to the other and back again forming a crisscross pattern across the entire ceiling. The heels of my shoes beat out a loud rap on the polished wooden floor, as I walked towards the bar, my eyes scanning the room. Andrew had said that William Johnston was tall and dark-haired. “You should have made him wear a rose,” I had suggested to Andrew as I was leaving the office, which had only earned me a glare; at this rate summer would be turning into autumn.

Ah, that had to be him, leaning against the bar, fiddling with his mobile phone. He was tall, as Andrew had described, with thick dark hair, which curled over his collar and hung across his forehead. He was well dressed in a dark blue suit. As if aware of my scrutiny, he straightened up and looked towards me with a questioning tilt of his head. Over-confident, I thought, deciding in that instant that I disliked him. I stopped in front of him.

“William?” I asked, returning his cool questioning gaze.

“You must be Jessica.” His accent was English, well-educated. I shook his hand. “Call me Will. Can I get you a drink?”

“I think it’s me that’s supposed to offer that. What can I get you?” I asked.

“A Becks then, please, Jessica,” he replied leaning back against the bar and studying me.

I signaled to the nearest barman. “A bottle of Becks and a skinny gin and tonic please.”

We found a couple of empty armchairs in one corner and Will turned on the charm. First, he helped me take my raincoat off and laid it over the back of my chair, then he waited until I had sat down before taking a seat himself. Old manners, unusual in the politically correct equal opportunity business world, but still, I refused to be charmed. I wasn’t here to make friends. Will adjusted the cuffs of his pale blue double-cuff shirt beneath his suit jacket. His cufflinks were gold dice; I noted the satirical choice for a career in investment banking, where so much was speculative.

“So, what’s this then? Get me drunk and see if I will spill all my deep, dark secrets?” He smiled.

“Actually, it would save me a lot of time and money, if we can skip the drunken bit and you just tell me your secrets,” I replied.

Will leaned forward and looked up at me with a glint in his blue eyes. “So, Jessica, what exactly would you like to know?”

I spluttered on my drink. Holy crap, this guy was super confident. Flirting with the interviewer didn’t usually get you a job.

I sat back in my chair and tried to adopt a neutral expression and ignore the fact that he had my attention. “Well, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

“Okay, I grew up in Sussex. Obtained my Maths degree from UCL and Chartered Accountancy with EY,” he answered. “But I’m sure you know all that.”

I had expected him to wax lyrical about himself, given that I had left him with such an open-ended question. The fact that he didn’t, showed he was clever. There was more to him than just the charm. I finished my drink as we chatted a little about the work he had done and who we both knew at EY.

“Anyway, enough about me. How did a nice Scottish girl like you end up working in the cut-throat world of investment banking?” Will asked.

Okay, so maybe I was wrong. There was that awful charm again.

“Who said anything about me being nice?” I growled.

Will, to his credit, laughed and raised his empty bottle. “Next round is definitely on me,” he said.

I looked at my watch and acquiesced. It would be rude to end the interview after just twenty minutes, even if I did consider it a farce. “Okay, but just one. I have to get going.”

Will nodded and made his way to the bar. I watched him go. He had broad shoulders and carried himself in a way that spoke of someone at ease in their own skin. He stopped and shook hands with a guy standing at a tall table and leaned over, kissing the cheek of the woman with him. As much as I hated to admit it, he would be a good fit in the team. Easy to get on with and charming enough to deal with the odd difficult trader. I didn’t have to like him. Hell, I didn’t really have to even work with him. My job here was done.

“So. What else are you supposed to glean from me tonight?” he asked with a grin as he placed my drink on the little table between our chairs.

I sat twisting my wedding and engagement rings around on my finger. “Nothing, I think I’m done. I guess you’ll be hearing from Andrew tomorrow. Do you have any questions for me?”

Will tilted his head, a little smile playing around his lips. “Just one.”

“Sure, fire away.”

“Will you have dinner with me?” he asked.

I wasn’t expecting that. “No,” I replied, trying not to sound prim. “You do realize that I am married?”

Will nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Just thought I’d ask,” he replied.

***

I arrived at The Tower around eight pm. The doors of the old pub were wide open and Jimmy and Dave were holding court out front, surrounded by a group of people. From the peals of laughter coming from their audience, it sounded like they were trying to outdo each other with the funniest anecdotes; nothing new there. Jimmy caught my eye as I walked closer and broke away from the group to greet me.

“Hey, Jess, how did it go? William? Verdict?” he asked.

“He has the charm of a prince and the morals of an alley cat. He will be a perfect fit,” I answered.

Jimmy looked stunned for a moment, before a grin spread across his face.

“Did he try to hit on you?”

I must have looked uncomfortable because he slipped a friendly arm around my shoulders and turned me towards the doors leading into the bar.

“Didn’t you tell him about the strapping Scotsman that you have tucked away at home?”

I laughed. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

Jimmy signaled to the barman. “My friend here needs a G and T pronto.”

The barman obliged, upending a blue bottle into a measuring cup just as a loud boom sounded and the pub shook. The cup slipped from the barman’s fingers with a clatter. Bottles in the refrigerators behind the counter and those on the shelf against the wall behind the bar rattled. Empty glasses tipped over on an adjacent table and several bottles of spirits skidded off the end of the bar, splintering into shards as they hit the wooden floor. Clear liquid ran across the boards following the slope of the floor towards the door. With a shriek, I grabbed on to the edge of the bar for support.

There was an eerie silence for a moment as everyone looked at each other with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“What the hell was that?” Jimmy said. “An earthquake?”

“Jim,” Dave shouted from outside.

Jimmy and I looked at each other for a second before rushing through the door to join Dave.

“Look.” He pointed up the road to where an enormous cloud of smoke and dust rose into the dusky sky. The screech of brakes sounded as traffic pulled to an abrupt stop on the busy road. Then loud splintering crashes could be heard as brick, timber and metal returned to earth and the awful sound of human suffering rose above the din.

We started running up the road in the direction of the blast. Jimmy and Dave, not hampered by shoes with three inch heels, raced ahead of me, covering the two blocks in no time. By the time I joined them, the first survivors were staggering from what remained of the Kings Arms Hotel, covered in white powder from fractured concrete and plaster.

“What the—” began Dave.

We stood frozen to the spot and watched as two figures stepped from the rubble into the road, leaning on one another to stay upright. Both had blood running down their faces from cuts to their heads. Behind them a woman took a few lurching steps before collapsing beside a broken wooden bar stool with a feeble cry for help. A dazed man stepped over her, crossed the road and kept walking, his gaze unfocused. Two young women stumbled out of the wreckage, clinging to one another, their clothes torn and dusty, each missing a high-heeled shoe, so that they appeared to be engaged in an elaborate twisting dance routine. A man pushed past them calling for help, blood squirting from beneath the hand he pressed into his shoulder where his arm would once have been. Another man remained seated at an outdoor table, his hand still wrapped around a half-full pint of beer. On his lap sat one of the pub’s many colorful hanging baskets, the reds, blues and greens of the flowers and foliage in stark contrast to the chalky white powder which covered the man’s hair and clothes. What remained of his drinking companions lay scattered around him, like a macabre human jigsaw. The man stared into space with a blank expression.

“Oh my God,” I said, covering my mouth with my hand as I took in the horrific scene, struggling to comprehend the wreckage.

All around us people began rising from where they had taken cover moments earlier. There were desperate shouts as some hurried towards the wounded, whilst others held back, unsure what to do faced with such devastation. As I looked around, I noticed some people begin filming the carnage on their mobile phones.

Dave rushed forward and took the arm of one of the young women, while Jimmy went to the aid of her friend and helped them to sit down on the edge of the curb. They were shaking uncontrollably, so I took my raincoat off and draped it around the shoulders of the one nearest to me.

The wail of sirens from emergency responders racing to the scene began to get louder as they approached from all directions. A single police car pulled to a stop beside us and two young police officers alighted, donning their hats as they stepped out. Their faces displayed horrified expressions as they surveyed the chaos, but these were soon replaced by grim determination as they strode forward and took charge. One officer directed those of us helping the injured to lead them to an open outdoor square across the road from the scene, whilst the second officer tried to contain the spectators.

“Help is on the way,” he called. “We need to make certain that there isn’t a second device or a gas leak before going in.” Jimmy, who’d been climbing into the rubble to assist the injured, now stepped back and looked around with a helpless expression. “I know,” the officer said understanding his reaction. “But until we know what we are dealing with we don’t want any further casualties.”

“It was a car bomb,” a man in the growing crowd called out, pointing to the almost unrecognizable mangled remains of a vehicle lying on its side up against the broken windows of a neighboring building, which until a few minutes earlier had been a lunch-time sandwich bar. “I saw it light up seconds before the explosion.”

“Okay, sir. Don’t go anywhere. We’ll need a statement from you,” the officer replied before relaying the information through to headquarters on his shoulder-mounted radio.

“Jessica.” I turned towards the voice. Will jogged across the road to join me. “Are you okay?”

“These poor people, they were just having a drink like we were earlier,” I said, wringing my hands and watching as a team of fireman leapt from their truck, unwinding a hose to deal with a small blaze that smoldered at the rear of the site.

Will nodded. “I know.”

I looked up at him. His brow was furrowed and he looked as distraught as I felt.

“Who would do such a thing? In the heart of London?” I asked.

Jimmy and Dave returned from helping the two young women to an ambulance that had just arrived. Dave handed me back my raincoat.

“Will, this is Jimmy and Dave, two of your new colleagues,” I said.

“G’day, mate,” Jimmy said as he hurried past us and back towards the remains of the pub. “Can you give us a hand with this guy?” he called over his shoulder.

“Sure,” Will replied, following him and taking the other side of a solidly built injured man who had staggered from the pub. Between them, Jimmy and Will helped him across the road to the square where more ambulances and paramedics were beginning to arrive.

The smell of smoke and rotten wood intermingled with something sweet and sickly hit me as I helped an older woman away from the debris to relative safety. I wrinkled my nose and looked skywards; sunset was upon us. I noticed a police van arrive and several officers begin setting up spotlights on tripods pointed at what remained of the pub.

We were busy for the next twenty minutes, helping the walking wounded from the ruins across the road to the square to be triaged and assisting the small handful of police officers to set up barriers until more of their colleagues arrived. At one point I found myself moving odd shoes, bags, documents and other personal objects thrown by the blast into the street, to an area at the edge of the square. The bomb squad arrived and we were all moved back from the site. We were beginning to feel surplus to requirements when a police officer approached us.

“Anyone else is going to need either a stretcher or a body bag,” he said with a grim expression. “Thanks for your assistance, but I’ll need you back behind the barrier now. Leave your details with the officer over there as we’ll need statements from you all.”

We nodded and walked across to the officer holding a tablet, at the edge of police cordon, and gave our names and contact details. I looked down at my white shirt; it had a blood stain on the sleeve and black marks across the front. I went to pull my raincoat on but noticed that it had drops of blood across the shoulders. I shuddered. I looked at my hands, they were blackened too. I hiccupped, the beginnings of a sob.

“Come on,” Jimmy said, taking my arm. “Let’s head back to The Tower, I need a stiff drink after that. Will, mate, join us?”

***

As we ducked under the hastily erected police cordon, a block back from the scene we noticed Aditi Sharma, the petite dark-haired BBC reporter, standing alongside the crews of a several other television networks, awaiting the signal from her cameraman as he counted her in. We paused to listen.

“I’m reporting live from the scene of a devastating terrorist attack in the heart of London tonight.” Aditi paused and looked behind her at the remains of the pub, a smoldering pile of brick and plaster, dotted with a number of white sheets, covering the bodies of the dead. “Eye witnesses tell me that a car bomb exploded outside the Kings Arms Hotel on Cheapside at 8.05 pm tonight. No one has yet claimed responsibility for the attack at one of the City’s popular after work venues. There is currently no official death toll, but I understand that there are already eighteen confirmed dead and many more injured.”

Aditi pressed her right hand to the earpiece in her ear as the news anchor in the studio asked her a question. A moment later she nodded.

“Another incidence of home grown terror? We’re hearing those rumors here too. This is the third attack since the outcome of the Brexit referendum, but as yet there’s been no official comment. Witnesses describe the two men who parked the van containing the bomb and walked away ten minutes before the explosion, as white and in their twenties. We understand that police teams are pulling the street CCTV footage as we speak.”

She paused, listening before continuing. “At this point no one has claimed responsibility, so we have no idea as to the motive behind the attack, but there is some speculation that this incident may be related to the recent Trafalgar Square and Windsor bombings. However, it does seem that this was a much larger device, so authorities will be desperately hoping that this isn’t an escalation of violence.”

***

Shadow of Doubt will be released in ebook and paperback on July 25, 2019. Pre-order your ebook copy now and it will be automatically delivered to your Kindle on July 25th.

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Stephanie Cooper and DI Marks would have been saddened, but not surprised at recent news reports of looted Syrian antiquities being bought and sold through groups using Facebook.

Facebook has removed a number of groups following a BBC investigation. The latest threat appears to be from loot-to-order smugglers with mafia style networks set up to control the trade. Discussions in the groups on how to illegally excavate items have culminated in Roman mosaics, still in the ground, being offered for sale.

A number of organisations are working to try to halt the looting of the country’s cultural heritage, but they are facing a battle on many fronts; from individuals looking to make quick money, to more organised criminal groups, and from what UNESCO has described as “looting on an industrial scale” by Islamic State.

In The Carlswick Mythology, looted artefacts from the ancient Syrian city of Palmyra are discovered in Greece before being smuggled first to Switzerland and then Rome, as part of an organised criminal network. As recent news stories show, reality is no stranger than fiction.

On a positive note, a recent innovation has been the development of a solution, which when painted on artefacts is invisible to the naked eye, but detectable under ultra violet light, making many antiquities traceable. It is hoped that this may act as a deterrent to both smugglers and private collectors wary of prosecution.

Nazi looted art and its modern day repercussions are at the heart of the first three novels in The Carlswick Mysteries series. The hunt to recover looted art continues to this day. In an article this week in The Guardian, the Rosenberg heirs discuss their attempts at recovering a looted Degas belonging to their grandfather, renowned Parisian Jewish art dealer Paul Rosenberg, and the difficulties they face. You can read the article here.