By Alan Bradley
“Every Flavia de Luce novel is a cause to celebrate.”—USA Today
ALAN BRADLEY, writer OF the main AWARD-WINNING sequence DEBUT OF ANY yr, RETURNS WITH one other impossible to resist FLAVIA DE LUCE NOVEL.
“[Alan] Bradley has created some of the most unique, captivating, devilishly inventive and hilarious detectives of any age or any time.”—Bookreporter
It’s Christmastime, and Flavia de Luce—an eleven-year-old sleuth with a fondness for chemistry—is tucked away in her laboratory, whipping up a concoction to ensnare Saint Nick. yet she is quickly distracted while a movie staff arrives at Buckshaw, the de Luces’ decaying English property, to shoot a film starring the famed Phyllis Wyvern. Amid a raging snowfall, the total village of Bishop’s Lacey gathers at Buckshaw to observe Wyvern practice, but no one is ready for the evening’s stunning end: a physique stumbled on strangled to loss of life with a size of movie. yet who one of the assembled site visitors might level this type of chilling scene? because the hurricane worsens and the checklist of suspects grows, Flavia needs to ferret out a killer hidden in simple sight.
“[Flavia is] the main intrepid and fascinating adolescent chemist/detective/busybody in all of rural, post–World conflict II England.”—The Seattle Times
“Quirky and pleasant . . . Flavia is a vintage literary personality who manages to entice either old and young readers equally.”—Wichita Falls Times list News
“Bradley’s plot twists and turns delightfully.”—Fort worthy Star-Telegram
NAMED the most effective MYSTERIES OF THE yr BY THE SEATTLE TIMES
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Extra info for I Am Half-Sick of Shadows (Flavia de Luce Mystery, Book 4)
A hundred percent. ” (See word above re undesirable intentions. ) “Promise? ” “Cross my center and desire to die. ” I crossed my center elaborately and prayed with all my may possibly that i might stay so long as outdated Tom Parr, whose grave we had as soon as noticeable in Westminster Abbey, and who had lived to a ripe 100 and fifty-two. Daffy pointed, languidly. “Under the chesterfield,” she stated. I dropped to my knees and reached underneath the flowered flounce. Aha! whilst my hand reappeared it used to be gripping the 1946 version of Who’s Who. I bore the publication off to a nook and opened it on my knees. The L’s didn’t start until eventually after approximately 600 pages, midway throughout the ebook: l. a. Brash, Ladbroke, Lamarsh, Lambton … sure, right here it was—Lampman, Lorenzo Angenieux, b. 1866, m. Phyllida Grome, 1909, one d. Phyllida Veronica, b. 1910, one s. Waldemar Anton, b. 1911. I fast labored out the procedure of abbreviations: b. used to be “born,” m. stood for “married”—s. and d. needs to suggest “son” and “daughter. ” there has been even more. It rambled on and on approximately Lorenzo Lampman’s schooling (Bishop Laud), his army carrier (Royal Welch Fusiliers), his golf equipment (Boodles, Carrington’s, Garrick, White’s, Xenophobe), and his awards (D. S. C. , M. M. ). He had released a memoir, With Bow and Rifle to the Kalahari, and had died within the sinking of the massive in 1912, only a 12 months after the beginning of his son, Waldemar Anton. younger Waldemar may well merely be Val Lampman, which intended that that imp, regardless of his leprechaun appears, used to be not more than thirty-nine. He and Phyllis Wyvern have been brother and sister—and she was once 40, no longer fifty-nine! I’d notion there has been whatever fishy approximately her age. I grew to become quick to the again of the book—to the W’s—even notwithstanding Daffy had warned me that Who’s Who wasn’t partial to actors. No Wyverns in this article aside from a Sir Peregrine, the final of his line, who had died in a duel together with his hatter in 1772. i peeked speedily via a number of the different volumes, yet they have been a lot a similar. on the earth of the higher crust, time, it appeared, moved extra slowly. for those who received all the way down to it, Who’s Who used to be now not even more than a catalog of an analogous dry outdated sticks harrumphing their manner, yr after yr, in the direction of the grave. “Daff,” I stated, taken via a surprising inspiration. “How were you aware i used to be going to invite approximately Who’s Who? ” there has been a silence that grew longer through the instant. “Pax vobiscum,” she stated unexpectedly and abruptly. Pax vobiscum? It used to be the traditional sign of truce one of the de Luce sisters—a formulation that was once frequently spoken by way of me. All I needed to do was once to provide the right kind reaction, “Et cum spiritu tuo,” and for 5 mins accurately by way of the closest clock, we'd be certain through blood to enable bygones be bygones. No exceptions; no ands, ifs, or buts; no crossing of fib-fingers at the back of one’s again. It was once a solemn agreement. “Et cum spiritu tuo,” I stated. Daffy closed Bleak residence and pulled herself out of her chair. She walked to the fireside and stood staring down into the nice and cozy ashes, her fingertips frivolously resting at the mantelpiece. “I’ve been pondering …” she acknowledged, and that i was once certain through the principles of the truce to not shoot again, “Did it harm?