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402 pages, Paperback
First published June 20, 2023
In the beginning was Linwood Hall, and Linwood Hall was the world.It saddens me that I didn't enjoy this book, at all. I feel like I'm letting down my friends because Fran and Sujoya really enjoyed it.

...Sir Lawrence Linwood's children were all adopted, so no one expected much family resemblance; but Roger, darker even than Caroline and with a hard-to-place exoticism about his featuresA few pages later
...Roger Linwood with that queer, exotic something about him that was not quite Chinese, not quite Indian, and certainly not entirely EnglishBut wait, there's more
Amberley was talking about that odd, exotic something about his features, he realised, which no one else had ever been able to placeThis may be the first book I've ever read where a character's ethnicity was part of the mystery.
As though drawn by the hand of God—Father would have had a fit at the idea—Alan turned to the hidden panel that opened into the servants' passage. It slid with barely a whisper, and he stepped through into the cool, dark space beyond... He blinked as his eyes adjusted, and then he saw it: ...Another thing that got on my nerves was the eschewing of proper plot progression for a bit of Shakespearean juxtaposition. Father is like King Lear. Mother is like Katharina from The Taming of the Shew. The cat is Pawtia, Portia from Merchant of Venice (don't worry you'll get a full detailed explanation of the pun). It got repetitive and boring. If you read this book, make it a drinking game. I certainly wish I had.
"How positively delightful." But behind the sarcasm, Caroline thought she heard a note of warmth and sympathy.Then why not solve the murder by looking into the eyes of these characters then finding the intent to kill?
He saw fear in every movement, under that fear, a certain relief. Grief was only the third emotion to register after that.
“The servants’ passage ran through the whole house like blood vessels through a human body. To be in the passage was to be in the lifeblood of the house and therefore part of it.”
“Alan had the sense, as his train hurtled south into that darkness, that he was rushing headlong into a storm, and yet, the promised storm did not break. God and Nature were holding back.”
“Days like this take me back – I want to open up the window and feel the wind blowing in. This isn’t really much of a storm compared to the monsoons. That’s power, Linwood: the raw, red power of Mother Nature mocking the follies of men. We don’t get anything close too it here in safe, stodgy old England.”
“It was a far cry from that sunny day when she and Roger had stopped here on their way to the house and she had her first glimpse of it. She’d thought then that there was something romantic about its haphazard, asymmetrical geometry – and Roger had talked about it being the Camelot of his childhood – but now, under the shadow of the coming storm… this was Linwood Hall in its element.”