The White Feather Killer by R.N. Morris

The White Feather Killer

The White Feather Killer (Silas Quinn Book 5) by R.N. Morris
English | 2019 | Mystery/Thriller | ePUB | 1.1 Mb

The White Feather Killer : London, 1914. The declaration of war with Germany has made the capital a dark, uncertain place, rife with fear and suspicion. As the pressure on young men to enlist grows stronger, Pastor Cardew holds a rally at his church. Unfortunately, it ends in humiliation for Felix Simpkins when he receives a dreaded white feather – the ultimate sign of cowardice. Meanwhile, DI Silas Quinn returns to New Scotland Yard after his recent sick leave to find the Special Crimes Department has been closed and his team absorbed into CID. But when a body is discovered in Wormwood Scrubs the day after Cardew’s rally, a white feather placed in its mouth, Quinn finds himself unable to take a back seat in the investigation. Was the murderer really a foreign spy . . . or someone closer to home?

“He heard a female throat clearing itself, and saw for the first time that she was not alone.

‘Oh, yes. This is Aunt Constance.’

A short, round woman came forward to present herself. She was wearing a pair of tortoiseshell spectacles, through which she scrutinized Silas closely. She offered him her hand, warily, as if she didn’t trust him not to run off with it.

‘Aunt Constance?’

‘Yes. You didn’t think I would come alone, did you? What kind of a girl do you take me for?’

Silas was about to say, ‘I don’t take you for any kind of girl.’ But the warning glint in her eye deterred him.

‘Lettice has told me a lot about you.’ Aunt Constance offered this information in a tone that was on the disapproving side of ambiguous.

‘Lettice?’ It was only now that he realized he had never learnt her first name. To him she had always been Miss Latterly, the sentinel outside Sir Edward’s office. ‘Lettice Latterly?’

‘What’s wrong with that?’ The brusqueness of her tone unnerved him. And yet he thought he detected a playful skittering in her eyes. It seemed she was pleased that he had grounds to mock her now.

‘There’s nothing wrong with it. Your parents had every right to christen you whatever name they wished.’ He turned abruptly to her aunt. ‘What has she told you?’

‘Oh … oh … all sorts of things.’ Aunt Constance was suddenly breathless and vague. He noticed that she backed away from him, as if something about his manner alarmed her.

‘I told her that you’ve just come out of a loony bin. That’s why she insisted on coming along.”

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