基本信息·出版社:Minotaur Books ·页码:304 页 ·出版日期:2007年05月 ·ISBN:0312365462 ·International Standard Book Number:0312365462 ·条 ...
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The Water Lily Cross: An English Garden Mystery |
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The Water Lily Cross: An English Garden Mystery |
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基本信息·出版社:Minotaur Books
·页码:304 页
·出版日期:2007年05月
·ISBN:0312365462
·International Standard Book Number:0312365462
·条形码:9780312365462
·EAN:9780312365462
·装帧:精装
·正文语种:英语
·丛书名:English Garden Mysteries
内容简介 Lawrence Kingston is asked to search for a botanist friend who has gone missing. With nothing but a scrap of paper with a bewildering cryptic message, he begins to investigate. He discovers that his friend was experimenting with aquatic plants and has stumbled on a horticultural breakthrough with staggering implications, one that could ultimately generate billions of dollars in revenue: a unique and giant form of Amazonian water lily. Convinced that influential people are involved in the disappearance, he pursues more leads, but circumstances beyond his control plunge him deeper into jeopardy and a corporate world of ruthless, greedy men who are not to be stopped. Kingston presses on, knowing that his missing friend's life--and his own--both hang by a very slender thread. As with the highly acclaimed
The Lost Gardens, Eglin brings his botanical and literary skill to this new mystery.
专业书评 From Publishers WeeklyEglin's engaging third horticultural cozy (after 2006's
Lost Gardens) pits retired London botanist Lawrence Kingston against rapacious, lawless foes when his longtime friend and colleague, Stewart Halliday, goes missing. Drawing on his cruciverbalist skills, Kingston interprets a coded message in his friend's date book that leads to another cryptogram. Clues indicate that Halliday discovered how to desalinate seawater with a unique crossbred water lily, a scientific breakthrough with potentially far-reaching benefits—and profitability. Kingston believes Halliday has been kidnapped because of the salt-sucking lilies, and even when Kingston is nearly shot down on a helicopter flight, he remains dogged in pursuit of his missing friend. Fans of the brave and erudite Kingston will savor his latest breakneck botanical adventure.
(May) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From BooklistIn this third in the series, after
The Blue Rose 2004) and
The Lost Gardens (2006), retired botany professor Lawrence Kingston of London will not be deterred from searching for missing friend and former colleague Stewart Halliday, despite Kingston's being shot down in a helicopter, knocked on the head, and warned explicitly to desist. Halliday's disappearance, as Kingston rightly suspects, is linked to his secret research to crossbreed a giant water lily that can remove salt from water, a scientific breakthrough with huge financial potential. Descriptions of notable English gardens and information about desalination processes add interest to this mystery, in which--in the cozy tradition--violence is limited, and murders occur offstage. Series fans will be intrigued by the appearance of a mysterious woman, somehow involved in the wrongdoing, who adds a the possibility of romance for widower Kingston. Overlook the occasional dangling participle, and enjoy seeing justice prevail in the English manner.
Michele LeberCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved 文摘 Chapter One
Another fickle June day was ending. The stubborn rains had let up at last, and the streetlamps were lit when Lawrence Kingston pulled up facing the shoebox of a garage he rented on cobbled Waverley Mews, Chelsea.
With the handbrake on and the engine running, he swung open the door of his pampered 1964 TR4 and extricated his long-limbed body from the cramped driver’s compartment with practiced agility. After disabling the alarm, he opened the door and got back in his car. The garage was so small that as soon as the TR was inside, there was barely enough space to open the driver’s-side door. It was all he needed, though—spotlessly clean and secure. Long gone were the days when he would do his own car’s maintenance. Minuscule as it was, the garage cost him a small fortune every month but he didn’t begrudge a penny of it. The only alternative was a resident street parking permit, which, for his of all cars, would be a gilt-edged invitation to thieves and yobbos who would think nothing of vandalizing it or ripping off parts. The car safely inside, he turned the key in the jimmy-proof deadlock, reset the alarm, and in ten minutes was walking across Cadogan Square to his two-story flat.
He went into the living room, picking up the mail from the doormat on the way. Dropping the letters and junk mail on the coffee table, he took off his jacket, draped it on the back of the sofa, and crossed the room to the butler’s table that served as a bar. Opening a bottle of Macallan single malt whisky, he poured a liberal measure into a crystal glass, topping it off with an equal amount of water. On his way back to the worn leather sofa, he pressed the play button on the answerphone, put his drink down next to the small stack of mail, and sank back into the bosom of the sofa. He sat, legs outstretched, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the tape to rewind.
“Hi Lawrence
……