Charles Todd - Wings of Fire

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E XTRAORDINARY A CCLAIM FOR THE
W ORK OF C HARLES T ODD

W INGS OF F IRE

Todd writes exceptionally about a time when people found not just meaning but healing in poetry, when intuition was viewed as kind of second sight, and when everyone was stamped by warnot just the legless men, but also the women who lost their loves and so their futures.

San Jose Mercury News

Novelist Charles Todd now joins that growing little circle of American authors like Elizabeth George and Martha Grimes who have made themselves at home in the exclusive field of the British literary mystery.

The Buffalo News

Todds writing is graceful and evocative of a bygone time and place.

The Miami Herald

[Rutledge] makes a welcome return in the haunting WINGS OF FIRE... Thoughtful and evocative, Todds tale offers interesting, three-dimensional characters.

The Orlando Sentinel

Splendid imagery, in-depth characterization, and glimpses of more than one wounded psyche: an excellent historical mystery.

Library Journal

A brilliant return... Memorable characters, subtle plot twists, the evocative seaside setting and descriptions of architecture, the moors and the sea fully reward the attention this novel commands.

Publishers Weekly (starred review)

A T EST OF W ILLS

named a New York Times Notable Book of the year and one of Publishers Weeklys six best mysteries of the year

... Both a meticulously wrought puzzle and harrowing psychological drama about a shell-shocked police inspector who investigates a murder.

The New York Times Book Review

The emotional and physical carnage of World War I is used to remarkable effect in A TEST OF WILLS, an excellent new mystery and, one hopes, the first of a series.

Chicago Tribune

Psychologically sophisticated, tautly written, and craftily plotted.

San Jose Mercury News

Todd seems to have perfect pitch in his ability to capture the tenor and nuances of English country life with its clearly defined social strata. A TEST OF WILLS may on the surface be another whodunit, but Todd raises disturbing issues of war and peace that still confront us today.

Orlando Sentinel

A newcomer returns us to the essential pleasures of the well-crafted puzzle... an absorbing story... Todd, depicts the outer and inner worlds of his character with authority and sympathy as he closes in on his surprisingand convincing conclusion.

Publishers Weekly (starred review)

ST. MARTIN'S PAPERBACKS TITLES
BY CHARLES TODD

S EARCH THE D ARK

W INGS OF F IRE

W INGS
OF F IRE

Charles Todd

St. Martin's Paperbacks

NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

WINGS OF FIRE

Copyright 1998 by Charles Todd.

Excerpt from Search the Dark copyright 1999 by Charles Todd.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 97-39643

ISBN: 0-312-96568-0

EAN: 80312-96568-6

Printed in the United States of America

St. Martins Press hardcover edition / March 1998

St. Martins Paperbacks edition /May 1999

St. Martins Paperbacks are published by St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

10 9 8 7

For D

You know why.

T he bodies were discovered by Mrs. Trepol, widow, occupation housekeeper and cook to the deceased.

It was not a morning of swirling sea mists and gray drifting sheets of rain, although afterward Mrs. Trepol remembered it that way.

In fact, the clouds had lifted in the night. The sea was gleaming in patchy May sunlight down below the headland, the house cast long shadows across the wet grass, and an unseasonable warmth already touched the light breeze as she came out of the wood at the side of the big kitchen garden. Her eyes jealously studied the cabbages in their neat rows, measuring them against the size of her own, deciding that hers still had an edge. Weil, of course they should! Shed always had the finest garden in the village, and hadnt she proved it with ribbons won at every Harvest Festival? The onions were tallersurely they hadnt been that high on Saturday? But anyone could grow onions. Her peas were already straggling up the sticks shed set beside them, and growing peas was an art. No sticks stood beside these sad little stalks! Shed be cooking hers before these saw their first blossoms. Old Wilkins, who had kept the Halls gardens and stables since the lads had all gone off to the war, knew more about horses than vegetables.

Not that he didnt crow over his work.

Your carrots look a mite small, Mrs. Trepol, hed say, hanging over the rock wall by her front walk. Compared to mine, that is. Or, Them beans is spindly. Put em in late, did ye?

Nosy old fool!

Her complacency restored, she went up the three steps to the kitchen door and let herself in with her key as she always did. Not that this was her day to clean. Mondays normally were her day off. But tomorrow she wanted to visit her sisterNaomis husband had offered to take them both to market in the morningand Miss Livia never minded if occasionally she shifted her time.

The long stone passage was cool and quiet. At the end of it, she took off her coat, hung it on the peg as she always did, pulled her apron over her head, then stepped into the heart of her domain. And noticed at once that the breakfast dishes, usually neatly stacked on the drain board, hadnt been brought down. She looked around the kitchen, saw that it was much as shed left it on Saturday evening, not even a crumb marring her scrubbed floor, saw too that no one had opened the curtains.

Oh, my dear! she thought, pityingly, Miss Livia mustve had another bad night, and shes still asleep!

Going up to the back parlor, she found that those curtains were also closed. And for the first time she felt a tremor of alarm.

Mr. Nicholas always opened them at first light, to watch the sea. Hed said once that it made him feel alive to see the dawn come and touch the water ...

Miss Livia must have had a terrible night, then, if hed missed the dawn on her account! Mrs. Trepol had never known that to happen in all the years shed worked in the house. Mr. Nicholas was always up at first light... always ...

She went out into the hall and looked up the curving stairs.

Mr. Nicholas? she called softly. Ive come. Is there anything I can do? Would you care for a cup of tea?

The silence around her echoed her words and she felt very uneasy now. Surely if he was sitting by Miss Livias bed, hed have heard her and come out to speak to her?