By Charles Finch
The sitting room seemed as frequent because the again of his hand, and instantly Lenox took a liking to the younger guy who inhabited it. He observed a number of small artifacts of the lacking student’s life---a frayed piece of string approximately toes lengthy of the type chances are you'll bind a package deal with, 1/2 a pulpy fried tomato, which was once too faraway from the breakfast desk to were dropped, a fountain pen, and finally, a card which stated at the entrance The September Society. . . .
In the small hours of the morning one fall day in 1866, a frantic widow visits detective Charles Lenox. woman Annabelle’s challenge is straightforward: her cherished son, George, has vanished from his room at Oxford. while Lenox visits his alma mater to enquire, he discovers a chain of unusual clues, together with a murdered cat and a card cryptically relating the September Society.
Then, simply as Lenox realizes that the case might be deeper than it sounds as if, a scholar dies, the sufferer of foul play.
What may perhaps the September Society need to do with it? What specter, again from the prior, is haunting light Oxford? Lenox, with the help of his dedicated acquaintances in London’s top crust, needs to race to find the reality ahead of it comes looking for him, and dangerously with reference to domestic.
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The sitting room appeared as popular because the again of his hand, and instantly Lenox took a liking to the younger guy who inhabited it. He observed a number of small artifacts of the lacking student’s life---a frayed piece of string approximately ft lengthy of the kind it's possible you'll bind a package deal with, 1/2 a pulpy fried tomato, which was once too faraway from the breakfast desk to were dropped, a fountain pen, and finally, a card which acknowledged at the entrance The September Society.
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Additional info for The September Society (Charles Lenox Mystery, Book 2)
I said it lightly enough, but all this talk was making me a little uncomfortable. I mean, it wasn’t like I’d never been in a locker room before. Guys are always commenting, and some like to strut. But I don’t think too many would admit if they stared. “They just . . don’t approve. Of the photographers, I guess. ” Jimmy rinsed pails, so I 25 really couldn’t see his face. ” Those kind of people? ” He did a one-shouldered shrug. “A couple candids here and there. I like candids, because it’s when they don’t think you’re looking that you catch people being themselves.
Sure, I’d never heard of him having any girlfriends, but I didn’t have any either. Didn’t mean a thing. I was busy. I had stuff to do. ” Shoving aside a stack of school crap, Mom perched on the edge of my bed. “I can understand that you’re angry. Jimmy should’ve told you before he entered those pictures in that contest. But he probably thought he didn’t stand a chance and, well . ” “That picture isn’t necessarily a bad thing. ” Then I got it. “Oh, great. You think Yale . . ” Mom got this defiant look.
I had to go that year, though, because I was president of the student council. We got there early to help the schools set up in the gym and lug in the boxes of pamphlets and junk they gave away to try to get you interested: T-shirts, key chains, chocolate-chip cookies, bottled water with the school logo. Pizza. One school even had a raffle going for an iPad, which I thought was cool. I even listened to the sales pitch just to get my name entered. Mostly, though, I went around to the different tables to make sure things were running smoothly and to see if the reps needed anything.