Thomas Pitt, mainstay of Her Majesty’s Special Branch, is summoned to Connaught Square mansion where the body of a junior diplomat lies huddled in a wheelbarrow. Nearby stands the tenant of the house, the beautiful and notorious Egyptian woman Ayesha Zakhari, who falls under the shadow of suspicion. Pitt’s orders are to protect—at all costs—the good name of the third person in the garden: senior cabinet minister Saville Ryerson. This distinguished public servant, whispered to be Ayesha’s lover, insists that she is as innocent as Pitt himself is. Pitt’s journey to uncover the truth takes him from Egyptian cotton fields to the insidious London slum called Seven Dials, to a packed London courtroom where shocking secrets will at last be revealed. From the Hardcover edition. “INTRICATELY LAYERED . . . THE VISUAL PANORAMA IS VOLUPTUOUS TO BEHOLD.” —The New York Times Book Review “PERRY’S AS GOOD AS IT GETS. . . . The final courtroom scene produces more victims and left me breathless.” —Providence Journal “TERRIFIC, VIVID STUFF . . . The alarmingly prolific Anne Perry [is] a master of the genre.” —The Seattle Times From the Hardcover edition. Thomas Pitt, mainstay of Her Majesty s Special Branch, is summoned to Connaught Square mansion where the body of a junior diplomat lies huddled in a wheelbarrow. Nearby stands the tenant of the house, the beautiful and notorious Egyptian woman Ayesha Zakhari, who falls under the shadow of suspicion. Pitt s orders are to protect at all costs the good name of the third person in the garden: senior cabinet minister Saville Ryerson. This distinguished public servant, whispered to be Ayesha s lover, insists that she is as innocent as Pitt himself is. Pitt s journey to uncover the truth takes him from Egyptian cotton fields to the insidious London slum called Seven Dials, to a packed London courtroom where shocking secrets will at last be revealed. From the Hardcover edition. “An Anne Perry novel is a delight to read as much for its Victorian-era details as for the mystery it unfolds.” – Chicago Tribune “A MASTER OF CRIME FICTION.” –The Baltimore Sun Praise for Anne Perry’s previous Charlotte and Thomas Pitt novel Southampton Row “Compelling and provocative . . . Vintage Perry: a grand, sweeping mystery of manners.” –Pittsburgh Tribune-Review “Thought-provoking . . . [with] a mystery–a very good one–woven tightly in . . . Status, rights, love, and duty are hallmarks of Perry’s narratives. Here, they are brought into finer focus, allowing their inherent drama to carry the story forward.” – Minneapolis Star-Tribune “Delicious political treachery . . . [Perry’s] grasp of the economic and social forces of the period is masterly.” – Chicago Sun-Times “Perry skillfully explores the gap between the Victorians’ love of knowledge and their deepening suspicion that their way of life cannot continue.” – The Boston Globe AND HER VICTORIAN NOVELS “Intelligently written and historically fascinating.” –The Wall Street Journal “You can count on a Perry tale to be superior.” –San Diego Union-Tribune “Few mystery writers this side of Arthur Conan Doyle can evoke Victorian London with such relish for detail and mood.” – San Francisco Chronicle “Perry can write a Victorian mystery that would make Dickens’s eyes pop.” – The New York Times Book Review From the Hardcover edition. Among Anne Perry ’s other novels featuring Thomas and Charlotte Pitt are Southampton Row , The Whitechapel Conspiracy , Half Moon Street , Bedford Square , and Brunswick Gardens . She also writes the popular novels featuring Victorian private investigator William Monk—among them, Death of a Stranger , Funeral in Blue , and Slaves of Obsession —as well as a new series set during World War One that began with No Graves As Yet . Her short story “Heroes” won an Edgar Award. Anne Perry lives in Scotland. Visit her Web site at www.anneperry.net. From the Hardcover edition. Pitt opened his eyes but the thumping did not stop. The first gray of mid-September daylight showed through the curtains. It was not yet six, and there was someone at the front door. Beside him, Charlotte stirred a little in her sleep. In a moment the knocking would waken her too. He slid out of bed and moved quickly across the floor and onto the landing. He ran down the stairs in his bare feet, snatched his coat off the rack in the hall, and with one arm through the sleeve, unbolted the front door. "Good morning, sir," Jesmond said apologetically, his hand still in the air to knock again. He was about twenty-four, seconded from one of the local London police stations to Special Branch, and he considered it to be a great promotion. "Sorry, sir," he went on. "But Mr. Narraway wants you, straightaway, like." Pitt saw the waiting hansom just beyond him, the horse fidgeting a little, its breath hanging vapor in the air. "All right," he said with irritation. It was not a particularly interesting case he