The Evidence Exposed [Audiobook, Unabridged] [Audio Cassette]

More akin to a trio of light literary snacks than the lengthy gourmet mysteries she usually serves, Elizabeth George's 11th, The Evidence Exposed is a collection of three short stories. In the first, a motley group of anglophiles are on a two week course at Cambridge studying the "Great Houses of Britain." Within their microcosm, jealousy, sexual tension and infidelities abound, so when one in the party suddenly dies, everyone is suspect. That is, until Inspector Lynley (A Great Deliverance, For the Sake of Elena) arrives on the scene.

The second tale, I, Richard, creeps into the mind of Malcolm Cousins, a bitter, middle-aged teacher with one goal: to obtain a priceless document that could clear the name of Richard III. If Cousins succeeds, he will re-write history and live like a king--but with one catch. He must murder his best friend.

In the Surprise of His Life Doulgas Armstrong thought he was just killing time before a prostrate examination when he first consulted psychic Thistle McCloud. However, her divinations strike at the core of his marital insecurities, fuelling a jealous passion. Six weeks and four consultations later, his cosmic obsession culminates in a dangerous lesson: Playing with destiny can have shocking results.

On par with watching a few episodes of the Twilight Zone, the 216 pages of The Evidence Exposed (including an extract of In Pursuit of a Proper Sinner) can be easily digested in an afternoon. This isn't meant to be a continuation of the Lynley-Havers series, but rather, a short diversion from the usual suspects. --Rebekah Warren --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

‘George is excellent at slowly unfolding plot and atmosphere ... fine writing and sensitive handling of relationships.' --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

'George is excellent at slowly unfolding plot and atmosphere ... fine writing and sensitive handling of relationships.' -- Independent 'Immensely well plotted ... a first class, page-turning read' -- The Times 'Splendid writing and a very good mystery' -- Sunday Telegraph 'Tough, breathtaking mystery' -- Cosmopolitan 'Nailbitingly good' -- Company 'George at her most adroit ... a collection that will win George many new readers' -- Internet review --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

'Nailbitingly good' --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

'Immensely well plotted ... a first class, page-turning read' --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

'Tough, breathtaking mystery' --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

'George at her most adroit . . . a collection that will win George many new readers' --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

The "Evidence Exposed": The two-week course on 'Great Houses of Britain' brings together a varied group of enthusiasts. When one of their number turns up dead, Inspector Thomas Lynley makes a cameo appearance. "I, Richard": Malcolm Cousins has spent years in the single-minded pursuit of a priceless letter, probably written by Richard III on the eve of the Battle of Bosworth. But does he want it enough to kill for it? "The Surprise of His Life": When Douglas Armstrong has his first consultation with Thistle McCloud, he has no intention of murdering his wife. His mind, in fact, doesn't turn to murder until two weeks after consultation number four. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Elizabeth George has written ten highly acclaimed novels of psychological suspense which have been published in twenty-one languages. Her first novel, A Great Deliverance, was honoured with the Anthony and Agatha Best First Novel awards in America and received the Grand Prix de Litterature Policiere in France. Well-Schooled in Murder was awarded the prestigious German prize for international mystery fiction, the MIMI, in 1990. An Edgar and Macavity Nominee as well as a New York Times international bestselling author. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Adele Manners gave her room one last look. The bed was made. The clothes were picked up. Nothing betrayed her. Satisfied, she shut the door and descended the stairs to join her fellow students for breakfast. The dining hall rang with the clatter of their dishes and the clamour of their talk. As always, one voice man- aged to soar above the rest, shrill and determined to fix attention upon the speaker . 'Hypoglycaemia. Hy-po-gly-cae-mia. You know what that is, don't you?' Adele wondered that anyone could avoid knowing since, in their two weeks at St Stephen's College, Noreen Tucker hadn't missed an opportunity to expatiate upon hypoglycaemia or anything else. See- ing that she was doing so once again, Adele decided to take her plate of scrambled eggs and sausage to another location, but as she turned, Howard Breen came to her side, smiled, said, 'Coming?' and carried his own plate to where Noreen Tucker reigned, outfitted by Laura Ashley in an ensemble more suited to a teenager than a romance writer at the distant end of her fifth decade. Adele felt trapped. She liked Howard Breen. From the first moment they had bumped into each other and discovered they were neighbours on the second floor of L staircase, he had been very kind to her, preternaturally capable of reading past her facade of calm yet at the same time willing to allow her to keep her personal miseries to herself. That was a rare quality in a friend. Adele valued it. So she

followed Howard. 'I'm just a martyr to hypoglycaemia,' Noreen was asserting vigorously. 'It renders me useless. If I'm not careful.' Adele blocked out the woman's babbling by scanning the room and engaging in a mental recitation of the details she had learned in her two weeks as a student in the Great Houses of Britain class. Gilded capitals on the pilasters, she thought, a segmented pediment above them. She smiled wryly at the fact that she'd become a virtual encyclopedia of architectural trivia while at Cambridge University . Cram the mind full of facts that one would never use and perhaps they might crowd out the big fact that one could never face. No, she thought. No, I won't. Not now. But the thought of him came to her anyway. Even though it was finished between them, even though it had been her choice, not Bob's, she couldn't be rid of him. Nor could she bury him. She had made the decision to end their affair, putting a period to five years of anguish by coming to this summer session at St Stephen's College in the hope that an exposure to fine minds would allow her to forget the humiliation of having lived for half a decade in the fruitless expectation that a married man would leave his wife for her. Yet nothing was working to eradicate Bob from memory, and Noreen Tucker was certainly not the incarnation of razor intellect that Adele had hoped to find at Cambridge. She gritted her teeth as Noreen went on. 'I don't know what would have happened to me if Ralph here hadn't insisted that I go to the doctor. Always weak at the knees. Always feeling faint. Blacking out on the freeway that time. On the freeway! If Ralph here hadn't grabbed the wheel.' When Noreen shuddered, the ribbon on her straw hat quivered in sympathy. 'So I keep my nuts and chews with me all the time. Well, Ralph here keeps them for me. Ten, three, and eight p.m. If I don't eat them right on the dot, I go positively limp. Don't I, Ralph?' It was no surprise to Adele when Ralph Tucker said nothing. She couldn't remember a time when he had managed to make a satisfactory response to some remark of his wife's. At the moment his head was lowered; his eyes were fixed on his bowl of cornflakes. 'You do have my trail mix, don't you, Ralph?' Noreen Tucker asked. 'We've got the trip to Abinger Manor this morning, and from what I could tell from looking at that brochure, it's going to be lots of walking. I'll need my nuts and chews. You haven't forgotten?' Ralph shook his head. 'Because you did forget last week, sweetie, and the bus driver wasn't very pleased with us, was he, when we had to stop to get me a bite to eat at three o'clock?' Ralph shook his head. 'So you will remember this time?' 'It's up in the room, hon. But I won't forget it.' 'That's good. Because…' It was hard to believe that Noreen actually intended to go on, harder to believe that she could not see how tiresome she was. But she nattered happily for several more minutes until the arrival of Dolly Ragusa created a diversion. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.