By Charles Todd
Attempting to aid a lady in misery, global warfare I nurse and unintended sleuth Bess Crawford learns that no sturdy deed is going unpunished
whilst battlefield nurse Bess Crawford returns from France for a well-earned Christmas go away, she reveals a bruised and shivering lady huddled within the doorway of her London place of abode. the lady has nowhere to show, and propelled via an organization feel of accountability, Bess takes her in.
as soon as inside of Bess's flat, the lady finds quarrel together with her husband erupted into violence, but she desires to go back home--if Bess will opt for her to Sussex. knowing that the lady is being affected by a concussion, Bess offers up a number of necessary days of depart to commute along with her. yet she quickly discovers that this can be a reliable deed with unforeseeable consequences.
What Bess reveals at Vixen Hill is a home of mourning. The woman's relatives has accrued for a memorial provider for the elder son, who died of struggle wounds. Her husband, domestic on compassionate depart, is demanding, laid low with jealousy and his personal to blame conscience.
Then, whilst a stricken houseguest is located lifeless, Bess herself turns into a first-rate suspect within the case. This homicide will lead her to a perilous quest in war-torn France, an unforeseen best friend, and a startling revelation that places her in jeopardy sooner than a vicious killer could be uncovered.
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Extra resources for A Bitter Truth (Bess Crawford Mystery, Book 3)
How often we travelled around the edge of the pool it is impossible to say. We circled for perhaps an hour, getting gradually nearer and nearer the terrible inside edge of the white belt. Below us the water sloped away steeply. All this time I had never let go of the iron ring. My brother was now at the back of the boat, holding on to a small, empty water barrel, which was tied down tightly by a rope. This was the only thing that had not been blown away when the wind first struck us. On our last journey around the pool, before the drop into the depths, he rushed across to me.
I went on very slowly, until my hands touched a wall; it was smooth, cold and slightly wet. I followed it, but soon realized that, without a fixed starting point, I would be unable to judge the size of the room. I now tore off a piece from the bottom of my prison clothes and placed this piece of cloth on the floor at ninety degrees to the wall. I now began to circle the room again. The ground was wet and slippery, and I had only taken a few steps when I fell forward on my face. I lay there for some minutes, and felt a great desire for sleep.
We could not see down into the pool because of the speed with which we were carried along. The ocean that we had left now rose at our side, like an immense spinning wall between us and the horizon. 'Now that we were in the jaws of Death, I made up my mind to hope no more; and when I had reached this decision, I began to think how beautiful it was to die in such a way — surrounded, as we were, by this proof of God's power. It may seem to you that I was crazy, and perhaps I was, but I felt a wish to explore the 48 depths of the whirlpool.