Genre Fiction
![Anne Perry - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B000APAS2A.jpg)
Death with a Double Edge: A Daniel Pitt Novel
Daniel Pitt's investigation into his colleague's murder leads him through London's teeming underbelly to the suspicious dealings of one of England's most influential shipbuilding magnates in a thrilling novel from New York Times bestselling author Anne Perry.
"Timely . . . and engaging . . . another terrific mystery."-Bookreporter
When junior barrister Daniel Pitt is summoned to the scene of a murder in the London district known as Mile End, he knows only that the victim is a senior barrister from the same firm. To Daniel's relief, it is not his close friend Toby Kitteridge, but the question remains: What was this respected colleague doing in such a rough part of the city? The firm's head, Marcus fford Croft, may know more than he admits, but fford Croft's memory is not what it used to be, and his daughter, Miriam-Daniel's sometime sidekick-isn't in the country to offer her usual help. And so Daniel and Toby must investigate on their own, lest the police uncover something that may cast a suspicious light on the firm.
Their inquiries in Mile End lead them to a local brothel and to an opium den, but also-unexpectedly-to a wealthy shipbuilder crucial to Britain's effort to build up its fleet, which may soon face the fearsome naval might of Germany. Daniel finds his path blocked by officials at every turn, his investigation so unwelcome that even his father, Special Branch head Thomas Pitt, receives a chilling warning from a powerful source. Suddenly, not just Daniel but his whole family-including his beloved mother, Charlotte-is in danger. Will Daniel's devotion to justice be the undoing of his entire life, and endanger Britain's defense at sea? As ever, the fates of family and history are inextricably intertwined in this spellbinder from Anne Perry.
"Timely . . . and engaging . . . another terrific mystery."-Bookreporter
When junior barrister Daniel Pitt is summoned to the scene of a murder in the London district known as Mile End, he knows only that the victim is a senior barrister from the same firm. To Daniel's relief, it is not his close friend Toby Kitteridge, but the question remains: What was this respected colleague doing in such a rough part of the city? The firm's head, Marcus fford Croft, may know more than he admits, but fford Croft's memory is not what it used to be, and his daughter, Miriam-Daniel's sometime sidekick-isn't in the country to offer her usual help. And so Daniel and Toby must investigate on their own, lest the police uncover something that may cast a suspicious light on the firm.
Their inquiries in Mile End lead them to a local brothel and to an opium den, but also-unexpectedly-to a wealthy shipbuilder crucial to Britain's effort to build up its fleet, which may soon face the fearsome naval might of Germany. Daniel finds his path blocked by officials at every turn, his investigation so unwelcome that even his father, Special Branch head Thomas Pitt, receives a chilling warning from a powerful source. Suddenly, not just Daniel but his whole family-including his beloved mother, Charlotte-is in danger. Will Daniel's devotion to justice be the undoing of his entire life, and endanger Britain's defense at sea? As ever, the fates of family and history are inextricably intertwined in this spellbinder from Anne Perry.
Editorial Reviews
"[A] veritable page-turner . . . Perry is a skilled craftsperson, and she delivers an exciting and satisfying resolution."-Historical Novel Society
"Brava Anne Perry-long may we continue to follow the exploits of the Pitt family."-Criminal Element
"Brava Anne Perry-long may we continue to follow the exploits of the Pitt family."-Criminal Element
Readers Top Reviews
S J RoundSylviaSA
I love Anne Perry's writing especially as her research into the Victorian and subsequent times seems extremely thorough. This era fascinates me, just add a murder mystery into the mix and I'm in reading heaven.
Kindle john01793
For the first time Daniel and his father interact and it adds to the story.
Kindle WelshDragon
It was obvious from the beginning that the father/navy man was the killer. I waited for one of her books at the end but it didn't happen. Left this reader unsatisfied.
John MinterKindle
What a disappointment. I have read and enjoyed every Anne Perry book and I am sorry to say this was a huge disappointment . Now I am apprehensive about reading any future Perry book as it appears she may have lost interest in these characters. It was so boring it was painful to finish and no surprise after enduring endless conversations about what to do, and who killed who and in the end it is exactly who you knew it was. a waste of time and money.
Short Excerpt Teaser
Chapter One
Daniel was worried. Toby Kitteridge was almost an hour late, which was extremely uncharacteristic of him. He was untidy, no matter how hard he tried not to be. His hair never lay flat. He found it difficult to buy a shirt whose sleeves were long enough to cover his bony wrists, and occasionally he wore odd socks without noticing it. But he was meticulous about time. He was never late. He considered it to be not only rude, but incompetent, a fatal flaw in a lawyer.
Daniel looked at the office clock. It said eight minutes before ten.
There were two light taps on the door. He knew who it was: Impney, the chief clerk at the legal chambers of fford Croft and Gibson.
"Come in," Daniel said quickly.
Impney entered and closed the door behind him. Normally his face was completely professional, polite but unreadable. However, this morning he looked decidedly grim.
"What is it?" Daniel asked, his voice sharper than he meant it to be.
"There is a policeman outside, Mr. Pitt, and he is asking to see you."
"Me, or just someone?" Daniel asked.
"You, sir, quite specifically," Impney replied. "He has one of your cards."
Kitteridge. Something had happened to Kitteridge. Daniel swallowed hard and kept his voice steady. "Ask him to come in, please," he instructed.
"Yes, sir." Impney withdrew and a moment later opened the door again. A young, profoundly unhappy policeman came in.
"Mr. Pitt?" he asked.
Daniel found his voice hoarse. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry to ask you, sir, but they found this card." He fished in his pocket and produced a calling card.
One glance told Daniel it was his own. "Where did you find it?" Daniel asked.
The policeman shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "In the pocket of a man who is unfortunately dead, sir. At first, we thought it might be his own, but one of our officers knows you by sight and said it wasn't you."
"You don't know who it is?"
"No, sir. If you would come and look at him, sir? It appears that he is someone you know."
Daniel stood up a trifle unsteadily.
"Are you all right, sir?" the constable asked with concern.
"Yes, thank you," Daniel answered. He straightened his shoulders.
The young man gave a sigh of relief. He glanced at the coat rack. "It's already quite warm outside; you won't need a coat."
"It's a long way," Daniel pointed out. The morgue was well over a mile from Lincoln's Inn Fields, which housed the most prestigious law chambers in England, including that of fford Croft and Gibson.
"I have a taxi waiting, sir." The policeman opened the door and stepped out into the passageway.
Daniel left the coat and followed him, explaining to Impney that he was going with the constable to help him in an urgent matter. He did not want to put it into words. Impney was anxious enough already.
"Yes, sir, I'll inform Mr. fford Croft." Impney inclined his head slightly.
"Thank you," Daniel acknowledged, and followed the constable out of the front entrance, down the few steps to the pavement, and into the waiting taxi. It was one of the new shiny black automobiles that were slowly taking over from the horse-drawn hansom cabs. It was May 1911, well into the new century, not even Edwardian anymore, now into the reign of King George V.
At another time, Daniel would have enjoyed riding in the black taxi. He thoroughly approved of them. But this could have been a vegetable cart for all the pleasure it gave him. He stared out the window at the street. He did not want to talk to the constable. He was choked with fear, emotion, memories of Kitteridge, who had been in the law chambers several years longer than Daniel and knew so much more. He was excellent in court. Once he began to argue a case, all his nervous tension was mastered and he had flashes of positive brilliance. Only Daniel knew he probably had odd socks on and had been too absentminded to eat breakfast. They had solved cases together, complicated and emotional ones as well as simple legal arguments. They had shared successes and failures, long hours researching into the night. There had been one or two dangerous and tragic cases, and people he would never forget.
The last thing Daniel had felt toward Kitteridge was anger because he was late. And now he felt fear. What was the final thing Daniel had said before parting? Please heaven it was not something he would regret forever, now that it was too late to take it back.
They were caught in traffic, as if to illustrate his fears, stuck amidst a mix of automobiles, horse-drawn vehicles, barrows, drays, and hansom cabs. He was in a hurry, impatient to get there. And yet he had to end...
Daniel was worried. Toby Kitteridge was almost an hour late, which was extremely uncharacteristic of him. He was untidy, no matter how hard he tried not to be. His hair never lay flat. He found it difficult to buy a shirt whose sleeves were long enough to cover his bony wrists, and occasionally he wore odd socks without noticing it. But he was meticulous about time. He was never late. He considered it to be not only rude, but incompetent, a fatal flaw in a lawyer.
Daniel looked at the office clock. It said eight minutes before ten.
There were two light taps on the door. He knew who it was: Impney, the chief clerk at the legal chambers of fford Croft and Gibson.
"Come in," Daniel said quickly.
Impney entered and closed the door behind him. Normally his face was completely professional, polite but unreadable. However, this morning he looked decidedly grim.
"What is it?" Daniel asked, his voice sharper than he meant it to be.
"There is a policeman outside, Mr. Pitt, and he is asking to see you."
"Me, or just someone?" Daniel asked.
"You, sir, quite specifically," Impney replied. "He has one of your cards."
Kitteridge. Something had happened to Kitteridge. Daniel swallowed hard and kept his voice steady. "Ask him to come in, please," he instructed.
"Yes, sir." Impney withdrew and a moment later opened the door again. A young, profoundly unhappy policeman came in.
"Mr. Pitt?" he asked.
Daniel found his voice hoarse. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry to ask you, sir, but they found this card." He fished in his pocket and produced a calling card.
One glance told Daniel it was his own. "Where did you find it?" Daniel asked.
The policeman shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "In the pocket of a man who is unfortunately dead, sir. At first, we thought it might be his own, but one of our officers knows you by sight and said it wasn't you."
"You don't know who it is?"
"No, sir. If you would come and look at him, sir? It appears that he is someone you know."
Daniel stood up a trifle unsteadily.
"Are you all right, sir?" the constable asked with concern.
"Yes, thank you," Daniel answered. He straightened his shoulders.
The young man gave a sigh of relief. He glanced at the coat rack. "It's already quite warm outside; you won't need a coat."
"It's a long way," Daniel pointed out. The morgue was well over a mile from Lincoln's Inn Fields, which housed the most prestigious law chambers in England, including that of fford Croft and Gibson.
"I have a taxi waiting, sir." The policeman opened the door and stepped out into the passageway.
Daniel left the coat and followed him, explaining to Impney that he was going with the constable to help him in an urgent matter. He did not want to put it into words. Impney was anxious enough already.
"Yes, sir, I'll inform Mr. fford Croft." Impney inclined his head slightly.
"Thank you," Daniel acknowledged, and followed the constable out of the front entrance, down the few steps to the pavement, and into the waiting taxi. It was one of the new shiny black automobiles that were slowly taking over from the horse-drawn hansom cabs. It was May 1911, well into the new century, not even Edwardian anymore, now into the reign of King George V.
At another time, Daniel would have enjoyed riding in the black taxi. He thoroughly approved of them. But this could have been a vegetable cart for all the pleasure it gave him. He stared out the window at the street. He did not want to talk to the constable. He was choked with fear, emotion, memories of Kitteridge, who had been in the law chambers several years longer than Daniel and knew so much more. He was excellent in court. Once he began to argue a case, all his nervous tension was mastered and he had flashes of positive brilliance. Only Daniel knew he probably had odd socks on and had been too absentminded to eat breakfast. They had solved cases together, complicated and emotional ones as well as simple legal arguments. They had shared successes and failures, long hours researching into the night. There had been one or two dangerous and tragic cases, and people he would never forget.
The last thing Daniel had felt toward Kitteridge was anger because he was late. And now he felt fear. What was the final thing Daniel had said before parting? Please heaven it was not something he would regret forever, now that it was too late to take it back.
They were caught in traffic, as if to illustrate his fears, stuck amidst a mix of automobiles, horse-drawn vehicles, barrows, drays, and hansom cabs. He was in a hurry, impatient to get there. And yet he had to end...
