Book two in Belinda Lawrence mystery series. It is the murder of a local villager that ensnares Belinda and Hazel in this web of intrigue and as they follow up each clue they little realise that their own lives are in danger.
In a quiet English village two bodies are discovered.
Both murdered.
But it is the manner of the death that most startles amateur detective Belinda Lawrence.
They were both slain in a way that perfectly replicates the death a medieval English king.
But why?
There appears to be no motive for so elaborate a crime.
But after she stumbles across a mysterious ancient tapestry, Belinda Lawrence and her associate Hazel Whitby are drawn into a terrifying conspiracy involving a bizarre religious cult, an enigmatic academic, a group of secretive monks -- and a mystery that dates back nearly a thousand years old.
And it soon becomes apparent that 'The Embroidered Corpse' will not be the last dead body - Belinda's own life is at stake.
‘The Embroidered Corpse’ is a brilliant re-invention of the classic English village murder mystery, following on from the best-selling 'Capable of Murder'.
Belinda Lawrence is a lively young heroine who pits her intellect against cold-blooded and ruthless killers - a character who is among the most memorable and engaging in modern detective fiction.
‘The Embroidered Corpse' is perfect for fans of Peter James, Elizabeth George and Peter Robinson.
Excerpt
It was mid afternoon when they arrived in Bosham. A coffee stop at Southampton, at the repeated insistence of Hazel, had delayed them further. Although a weak sun shone through hazy clouds, there was a chill breeze that caused them to shiver as they stepped from the car. Wrapping their coats around them, they wandered down to the village which jutted out into an estuary of Chichester Harbour.
The conspicuous shingled broach spire of Holy Trinity, acted as an usher in guiding them to the church. It stood at the top of a creek on the outskirts of the harbour.
The dark waters of the creek reflected the buff coloured tower, while surrounding trees arranged fortified branches in a protective cocoon.
Hazel, more bad tempered than before the longed-for coffee had proved to be undrinkable was determined to display her hostility. She plonked herself down on a seat overlooking the creek, resolutely turning her back on the church. Belinda and Mark, taking this to mean she no longer wished to take part in the afternoon's activities, stole away into the church grounds. Hazel was left to mouth mild obscenities at a duck that was unwise enough to waddle into her orbit.
The village radiated the established calm of an English Sunday afternoon. In the churchyard, even the birds seemed oddly secretive.
The interior of Holy Trinity was not only dim, but also glacial. Belinda pulled her coat tight about her neck as she stepped into the church, past the ancient wooden door and down worn steps. Mark lingered to read the notice board in the porch, but with nothing other than times for choir practise prior to the approaching Christmas services, he soon followed Belinda.
As their eyes became accustomed to the gloom, they could make out on their right, a half wall, with steps leading down to an arched doorway. Raised about five feet above the steps, was an open Gothic chapel, whose floor provided a ceiling for the crypt below.
'There must be a vault beneath the chapel,' whispered Mark in Belinda's ear, his chill breath sending a tremor down her spine.
'Do you think anyone's buried down there?' she asked, hoping the answer was a definite "no". To her discomfort Mark simply nodded a confirmation and moved nearer the chancel. Feeling nervous, Belinda followed him. They stood looking towards the chancel arch where colourless sunbeams seeped in through the five-light east window.
Belinda gave a gasp of recognition. She fumbled in her coat pocket, drawing from it the crumpled photocopy of Harold Godwinson praying in this very church.
'Look. The arch. It's identical with the Bayeux Tapestry.'
Mark glanced at the photocopy. 'More stylised than identical,' he said academically, 'but you're right.' He ran his finger along the embroidered illustration. 'It's the same, even down to the horseshoe contour. That’s rather unusual, I gather.'
'And it's the same as my tapestry. Which means it does show William being crowned king in this church.'
Mark shook his head. 'But we know he wasn't.'
'Oh, Mark,' said Belinda, climbing the ancient stone steps into the chancel, 'this is getting very weird. It must mean something. Is my tapestry part of the Bayeux original or a copy? If it’s original, why show this church, when the king was crowned in Westminster Abbey? What's the connection?'
'And why kill for it?' asked Mark.
They were interrupted by the torturous squeak of the church door as it opened. A small black figure entered and, humming a toneless rendition of a Bach cantata, made its way up the nave. At the steps leading up to the chancel, the figure stopped suddenly at the sight of Belinda and Mark.
They found themselves looking down onto the genteel features of an elderly man. Small, spindly, dressed entirely in black, he looked like a shrivelled crow. He peered from one to the other, eyes wide with surprise.
'Oh! You startled me. I thought all the Sunday trippers had gone.' His voice matched his appearance, sombre and crackly.
'I'm sorry,' said Belinda, 'should we leave?
The ruddy features of the man eased into a congenial smile.
'Good heavens, no. We welcome visitors. You mustn't mind me. I play the organ. For my own edification, you understand. The Vicar wisely turns a blind eye, or should I say a deaf ear, to my musical transgressions. But he kindly lets me torment his organ, when it is not in use for liturgical purposes.'
Mark stifled a laugh, as Belinda surreptitiously kicked him in the shin. Unaware that he was providing much needed amusement for Mark, the man continued, 'I'd hoped to get some practise in before Evensong.'
So saying he placed a pile of sheet music on the small organ and turned to his visitors. 'Do you know the history of Holy Trinity?' He seemed eager to air his knowledge.
'We know King Harold prayed here before travelling to Normandy,' said Mark, somewhat smugly.
The old man frowned. 'Hmmm, yes. 1064. When he was trapped into swearing allegiance to the Duke William of Normandy. Infamous creature.' He turned solemn eyes onto his captive audience. 'As you may imagine, we do not think highly of William in these parts. There are some of us that would prefer the Norman invasion had not taken place.' He wrinkled his nose as though he detected a bad odour. 'A barbarous lot. Descended from the Vikings, so what could you expect?'
The question was clearly rhetorical, because he continued unremittingly. 'Replacing
our language with French! And such dreadful slaughter. Why, even King Harold was butchered in the most appalling manner.'
Unquestionably, this was the crux of the matter, and it stuck in the old man's craw.
Belinda and Mark exchanged an amused glance.
But their muse was not to be distracted.
'Imagine deliberately blinding a man. Firing an arrow into his eye. Disgraceful.'
Belinda instantly recalled the image on the Bayeux Tapestry. 'He was blinded? Are you sure?' she demanded.
The man gave her a sharp look. 'Sure? Of course I'm sure. I thought every Englishman knew that.' He spoke as though he thought it more of a national duty, than a mere acceptance of an historical event.
'Mind you,' he added sceptically, 'there is a school of thought that has him dying from a leg wound.'
'Why would they believe that?' asked Mark.
'Because that's how Harold's death is depicted. There is some confusion as to exactly how he died. The Bayeux tapestry shows two figures, both purported to be Harold. As that is our only near contemporary record of events, we must assume it to be correct.
'There is a manuscript of indeterminate date - it may or may not be contemporary - which suggests that Harold was literally hacked to pieces. According to that version he lost his head, was stabbed in the chest and stomach, and his leg was cut off to be borne in triumph by the marauding Normans.'
'How horrible.' Said Belinda.
'Mmmm,' agreed the man thoughtfully. 'I'm of the opinion that he sustained only one wound that in the eye. The thigh-slashing episode I believe is most likely a token.'
'Of what?' asked Mark and Belinda, in unison.
'Castration!' declared the man with a certain relish. 'But getting back to the two figures, one has an arrow in his eye while the second, has his thigh is slashed open by a mounted Norman.
'Repairs to the Tapestry over time have resulted in different theories being put forward, such as Harold's blinding being a symbol. I don't agree with that view. William was given to blinding and castration as a punishment in preference to hanging. As I said, barbarous.'
Clearly hanging was not to be considered uncivilised in his view.
'No,' he continued heatedly, 'you can't tell me that it was symbolic. William wanted vengeance and took it in the most horrific way.' He paused for a moment, as though appalled at a recent event, not something that happened nearly a thousand years ago. He gave a disillusioned sigh.
'However, experts can't agree if both figures are meant to be Harold or only the second one.'
'So it's possible he could have been wounded both ways?'
The old man shrugged. 'We have no real proof either way.'
Belinda grasped Mark's arm. 'But that means whoever killed the two ….'
She had no need to continue, for Mark nodded his head in mute, but earnest, agreement.
'However, Harold is not the only claim to fame that we have,' continued the man, making his way into the nearby Gothic chapel.
Belinda and Mark followed him and gazed at the rough stone walls. Their guide took up a theatrical pose in front of the altar. He pointed with a dramatic finger to the floor of the chapel.
'Here, in All Hallows chapel, beneath our feet,' he proclaimed with a flurry of trumpets - which only he could hear - 'is the crypt which was the original monastic cell that served Dicul and his Irish monks in the seventh century.' He spread his arms in a wide embrace. 'This chapel, and indeed the church, is built upon their building, as well as their faith.'
Belinda glanced at the floor half expecting to see an open tomb beneath her feet. She shivered.
The old man, now in full flight in his role as local guide, walked to the iron barrier that overlooked the nave. 'Yes, this ancient building has many historic connections. It has been of great interest to archaeologists and the like, with many excavations over the years. They seem very taken with the huge stone sarcophaguses from ancient times.
'Formidable pieces they are, I'm told. Could crush a man if one was unlucky enough to have one fall upon them.' He gave an uncertain chuckle, as though vaguely amused by the idea.
'As recently as nineteen fifty four, during an extensive dig, they unearthed an intriguing apsidal headed coffin. When they opened it, it revealed the bones of a
powerful giant of a man.'
He turned to Belinda and Mark and, after a dramatic pause, continued in a hoarse exaggerated whisper, 'They were the remains of the Earl Godwin of Wessex.'
A hush fell over the church as he closed his lips. Belinda, in spite of herself, felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle.
Mark broke the silence.
'You mean, Harold's father?'
'The very same,' said the man, with a satisfied smile.
He walked across the Gothic chapel and stamped his foot on the stone floor, as though testing its strength.
'As a matter of fact, I believe there is to be a further excavation soon. Some expert from London is to burrow away, no doubt hoping to find further remains of Dicul and his monks.' He sounded as though he thought this activity a godless pastime. 'I should let them rest in peace,' he confided in a reverential whisper.
Belinda's fingers weakened their grip on the photocopy of the Bayeux Tapestry. It floated like a feather, to land at the feet of the old man. He stooped uneasily, wheezed, and picked it up. His eyebrows rose in surprise when he recognised it.
'Ah. The Bayeux interpretation of our beloved church.' He peered at Belinda and Mark.
'Are you members of the same group?'
Belinda and Mark looked at each other. 'What group?' asked Mark. Belinda felt she knew the answer.
'There was a small group here earlier this afternoon. Seemed very interested in Earl Godwin and Harold. I assumed they were from an historical society.'
Belinda felt her mouth go dry. 'What did they look like?'
'A middle aged couple and a rather…. ' The man searched for the right expression, thought of it, and then decided that Christian charity demanded he temper his intolerance - after all the House of God was not the place to use such expletives.
'Let me just say,' he continued in a disdainful voice, 'a rather undesirable youth. Torn clothing. Earrings. You know the sort.' His nose wrinkled in distaste.
'How long ago where they here?' asked Mark.
'Shortly before you, I should imagine,' said the old man loosing interest in the subject and making his way back to the organ. 'I saw them again in the church yard as I came in just now.'
Mark grasped Belinda's arm. 'Hazel!' he said urgently.
Pulling Belinda along with him, he ran down the nave. Together they burst into the churchyard.
Mark being first to clear the church, led the way. He headed towards the churchyard wall.
Belinda surprised herself with her agility, by leaping over a memorial stone and careering past the church. Her heels sank into the damp winter earth. She tried to fight down the rising panic in her breast. She imagined Hazel being confronted by Saul. Previously he had only beaten her. There was no way of knowing what he might do this time.
Racing through the low restraining limbs of the trees, they ran to the spot where they had left Hazel.
The seat was empty. Hazel had gone.
Professional Reviews
****
When Belinda goes to York with Hazel, they decide to visit the Kidbrooke House, just out of curiosity. But when they get there, they are astonished to see an embroidered figure of what appears to be the corpse of a monk. Nobody seems to be able to explain where it comes from, but it has been in the family for a long time. Somehow Belinda becomes intrigued by Kidbrooke House and by Sir Gerald Taylor, as somehow that man fascinates her.
A few days later, a body is found at Kidbrooke House, the body of a man who was murdered in a very brutal and sadistic way. It must have happened just after Belinda and Hazel left. When Belinda finds out about the murder, she and Hazel decide to return to Kidbrooke House. But what they never could have expected happens and before they know it, they are involved in a murder case.
The Embroidered Corpse is one of the most thrilling stories that I have ever read. Sadistic murderers, a religious cult, a strange riddle and monks who are involved in some way... Brian Kavanagh has mixed all of this, and much more, together and the result is a great story that is fascinating to read. I promise you that once you start reading The Embroidered Corpse, you will find it very difficult to put this story beside you! You want to know the clue, who did those murders and why? You'll find out...
Annick EURO-REVIEWS
Four & half stars.
This book, second in the series, has Belinda, Hazel and Mark searching for clues to a missing tapestry that may have been the reason for more than one murder. The book begins with a murder of a man with antique furniture. Hazel then purchases some of his furniture at an auction, which is how the tapestry ends up with Belinda. Belinda tries to translate the tapestry and it ends up getting stolen. People connected to Belinda's tapestry end up getting murdered. Belinda infiltrates a religious group nearby; they are apparently connected to the tapestry as well. There are many twists and turns in the search for the tapestry and the people who want it.
Belinda, Mark and Hazel are better developed in this book than in the first. The author seems to have hit a good groove of understanding with his main characters. This book was a stronger mystery than the first in the series. I rated it a 4.5/5.
Reviewed by Melissa A. Palmer
Melissaenglish72@yahoo.com
July 27, 2008
Never judge a book by its cover
****Angela S
4.0 out of 5 stars Entertaining and fun
Reviewed in the United States on October 7, 2014
Verified Purchase
They say ever judge a book by its cover, and I didn't. I judged it by its name, which is possible just as unwise, but with a cracker of a title like this, I couldn't resist buying my first novel from Brian Kavanagh. I have no regrets! "The Embroidered Corpse" delivers its promise of a thrilling mystery with likeable characters, and that it was part of a series was a big bonus because I love the character development opportunities that a series offers. Certainly this was a fun read - not sugar-coated, yet not revoltingly gory - and I quickly found myself engaging with the story and with Belinda. There is one scene in particular (no spoilers) that was full of suspense and well written. Brian Kavanagh has an amusing turn of phrase and his interpretation of the wonderful English mystery series of yesteryear makes for delightful entertainment. I will be sure to read other Belinda Lawrence mysteries.
The story starts with Belinda Lawrence and friend, Hazel, visiting Kidbrooke House where Belinda becomes intrigued with a tapestry that, in part, shows a monk's corpse. Attempting to buy the piece, the owner won't sell declaring the article has been in the family for years. However, a few days later, the owner is brutally murdered so when the antique furniture goes on sale, Hazel buys a few pieces and Belinda, by accident, ends up with the tapestry and involvement in a murder. Trying to learn then meaning of the tapestry leads to her entanglement with a religious cult, monks, and a second murder committed exactly like the first. Seems Belinda, whose tapestry gets stolen, is not the only one seeking the meaning of the fabric picture. "The Embroidered Corpse" has many suspenseful twists and turns, and Brain Kavanagh has created a compelling mystery that literally keeps the reader on the edge of their seats. This is book two of the Belinda Lawrence series and furthers the character development of Belinda tremendously. I can't wait to read more! Although I enjoy reading a series in order, "The Embroidered Corpse" is a great stand-alone also. I highly recommend you check this one out, or the entire series. Kavanagh has a great, easy-flow writing style that is very entertaining. You won't be disappointed with this one if you enjoy a good mystery. 5 out of 5 stars.
Amateur sleuth and cobbler Fulton Moon (yes, his nickname is Full Moon) encounters beautiful and sinister Lucinda Mathews. Lucy, wife of prominent florist Arthur Mathews, wants to escape an abusive husband and Moon only wants to help. It isn’t that
