trance to the farm. He had, in fact, reached that point, and had again made fairly certain that he was not pursued, when the steady beat of an engine driven at normal speed told that a car was approaching.
He slowed from a jog-trot to a walk. Being rather breathless and excited, he wanted to be collected enough to appeal for help without alarming the people in the car.
He took it for granted that no one would be driving alone along a road which in August attracted only the more sedate type of tourists, so he was dismayed, almost irritated, when he found that the oncoming motorist was a lady, whose sole companion was a fox-terrier. Still, he had to make the best of a queer business, and try to explain the urgency of his requirements without creating a suspicion that he was a sensa tion-monger, if not a veritable lunatic.
So he signalled in good time that he wanted a word, though he believed that the lady herself was of the same mind, because the engine slowed before he raised his hand.
Excellent mystery. It has shades of Childers’ ‘The Riddle of the Sands’, as two ordinary people get embroiled in murder and espionage. At stake is the safety of the nation, as they assist detectives to track down a horrific weapon that has the potential to kill millions. A real page-turner - I really couldn’t put it down.
Another Winter & Furneaux mystery!
Louis Tracy's stories have a recognizable flare: his men are gentlemen and his women are ladies (even when they are "modern").