A Grave Robbery (A Veronica Speedwell Mystery)

A Grave Robbery (A Veronica Speedwell Mystery)

Veronica and Stoker discover that not all fairy tales have happy endings, and some end in murder, in this latest historical mystery from New York Times bestselling and Edgar Award–nominated author Deanna Raybourn. Lord Rosemorran has purchased a wax figure of a beautiful reclining woman and asks Stoker to incorporate a clockwork mechanism to give the Rosemorran Collection its very own breathing Sleeping Beauty in the style of Madame Tussaud’s famous figures. But when Stoker attempts to insert the device, he makes a gruesome discovery: this is no wax figure. The mannequin is the perfectly preserved body of a young woman who was once very much alive. But who would do such a dreadful thing, and why? Sleuthing out the answer to this question sets Veronica and Stoker on their wildest adventure yet. From the underground laboratories of scientists experimenting with electricity to resurrect the dead a là Frankenstein to the travelling show where Stoker once toured as an attraction, the gaslit atmosphere of London in October is the perfect setting for this investigation into the unknown. Through it all, the intrepid pair is always one step behind the latest villain—a man who has killed once and will stop at nothing to recover the body of the woman he loved. Will they unmask him in time to save his next victim? Or will they become the latest figures to be immortalized in his collection of horrors? “The very definition of a gleeful romp…the historical mystery novels of Deanna Raybourn…sparkle with wit and vigor and feminist-forward thinking.” —Sarah Weinman, The New York Times “Vibrant secondary characters, a sea of plausible suspects, and a steadily growing body count make this a treat for series devotees and newcomers alike.”— Publishers Weekly “...possibly the best in the series, with Raybourn’s trademark banter, innuendo, and outstanding lead characters, along with a fascinating plot and supporting cast.”— Library Journal (starred review) "A puzzling mystery bolstered by an exploration of bizarre Victorian mores."— Kirkus "Rich with references to the historical events of the period, which provides a strong and vibrant sense of the steampunk-esque setting, the book’s prose is electric and engaging." —Historical Novel Society "A Grave Robbery is a fast, compelling, and extremely delightful mystery." —Smart Bitches, Trashy Books Deanna Raybourn is the New York Times bestselling and Edgar® Award–nominated author of the Veronica Speedwell Mysteries, the Lady Julia Grey series, and several stand-alone novels, including KILLERS OF A CERTAIN AGE. She lives in Virginia with her family. Chapter 1 London, October 1889 I draw the line at monkeys," Stoker said with considerable severity. "I will have no monkeys, Veronica." Stoker was usually amenable to animals of every description, but the fact that the creature in question was currently sitting atop his head in a posture of nonchalance had doubtless contributed to his irritability. The monkey in question was a golden lion tamarin-Leontopithecus rosalia, to be exact-also known as a golden marmoset, a description which is far more enticing than the creature itself. It was small, weighing no more than a pound and a half, and of modest proportions. Its quizzical expressions and the bright orange hair that circled its head in an exuberant impression of a lion's mane might have been charming, but the effect was spoilt by its naked face and downturned mouth. It was scarcely a year old, but it studied everything around it with the sour judgement of a wizened old person. Occasionally, when it looked at me, it tipped its head to the side and pulled its mouth further down, as if it could penetrate my secrets and found me wanting. It was unpleasant in the extreme, and the fact that it had taken to Stoker with an affection that bordered on the aggressive was a welcome development. It had been a gift to our aged friend, Lady Wellingtonia Beauclerk, from a Brazilian admirer, and in a moment of lunacy, I had agreed to care for it until Lady Wellie could make permanent arrangements. Unfortunately, there were few listings for callitrichines in the Situations Wanted advertisements in the London papers. "It is hardly my fault the little beast prefers you," I said serenely. "Lady Wellie assured me it would be no trouble. A dish of tea, a spoonful of fruit, and a secure little nest is all it requires for its comfort, I am informed. And you must admit, it does not ask for much beyond that." "Much beyond?" Stoker's voice took on a distinctly strangled note. "Veronica, she drinks out of my teacup. She purloins food from my fork. And the least said about her unhygienic sleeping arrangements, the better." He might have been grumbling, but I observed with a smothered smile that he had already assessed the monkey's gender and applied the correct pronouns. "It is adorable that the little beast dotes on you so," I assured him. "You are a very large, strong man. Surely you d