A night of dancing that ends with the mysterious disappearance of a stable-boy - and Lord Francis Powerscourt is summoned to investigate. Spring 1914, and Jack Harper, current owner of Melrose Hall, has thrown a party for his eldest, Andrew, who is turning twenty-one. But the following morning there is no sign of Richard O'Connor. More than just a stable-boy, Richard acts as the legs of the paralyzed Jack Harper, pushing him around the estate in his wheelchair and sharing with him an affinity with the family's stable of thoroughbreds. The police aren't interested in the disappearance of a servant so Powerscourt is summoned. And then a body is discovered in the tackroom of one of the farms on the estate. Richard O'Connor has been shot through the head - but why would anyone want to shoot him? And what of Richard's unique ability - he can tell which horse is going to win the race. Did that lead to his death? Or was it the arrival of gangs at the local races, keen to enlist Richard into their crime syndicates? Praise for David Dickinson 'Detective fiction in the grand style' James Naughtie 'Beguilingly real from start to finish ...you have to pinch yourself to remind you that it is fiction ...or is it?' Peter Snow 'Splendid entertainment' Publishers Weekly 'Dickinson's customary historical tidbits and patches of local colour swathed in appealing Victorian narrative' Kirkus Reviews

A night of dancing that ends with the mysterious disappearance of a stable-boy - and Lord Francis Powerscourt is summoned to investigate. Spring 1914, and Jack Harper, current owner of Melrose Hall, has thrown a party for his eldest, Andrew, who is turning twenty-one. But the following morning there is no sign of Richard O'Connor. More than just a stable-boy, Richard acts as the legs of the paralyzed Jack Harper, pushing him around the estate in his wheelchair and sharing with him an affinity with the family's stable of thoroughbreds. The police aren't interested in the disappearance of a servant so Powerscourt is summoned. And then a body is discovered in the tackroom of one of the farms on the estate. Richard O'Connor has been shot through the head - but why would anyone want to shoot him? And what of Richard's unique ability - he can tell which horse is going to win the race. Did that lead to his death? Or was it the arrival of gangs at the local races, keen to enlist Richard into their crime syndicates? Praise for David Dickinson 'Detective fiction in the grand style' James Naughtie 'Beguilingly real from start to finish ...you have to pinch yourself to remind you that it is fiction ...or is it?' Peter Snow 'Splendid entertainment' Publishers Weekly 'Dickinson's customary historical tidbits and patches of local colour swathed in appealing Victorian narrative' Kirkus Reviews

A night of dancing that ends with the mysterious disappearance of a stable-boy - and Lord Francis Powerscourt is summoned to investigate. Spring 1914, and Jack Harper, current owner of Melrose Hall, has thrown a party for his eldest, Andrew, who is turning twenty-one. But the following morning there is no sign of Richard O'Connor. More than just a stable-boy, Richard acts as the legs of the paralyzed Jack Harper, pushing him around the estate in his wheelchair and sharing with him an affinity with the family's stable of thoroughbreds. The police aren't interested in the disappearance of a servant so Powerscourt is summoned. And then a body is discovered in the tackroom of one of the farms on the estate. Richard O'Connor has been shot through the head - but why would anyone want to shoot him? And what of Richard's unique ability - he can tell which horse is going to win the race. Did that lead to his death? Or was it the arrival of gangs at the local races, keen to enlist Richard into their crime syndicates? Praise for David Dickinson 'Detective fiction in the grand style' James Naughtie 'Beguilingly real from start to finish ...you have to pinch yourself to remind you that it is fiction ...or is it?' Peter Snow 'Splendid entertainment' Publishers Weekly 'Dickinson's customary historical tidbits and patches of local colour swathed in appealing Victorian narrative' Kirkus Reviews