Book Seven in the series.
Murder and the search for a long-lost film, involve Belinda and Hazel in more hair-raising adventures as they begin to investigate each member of the group, all of whom could be potential murderers.
Power. Envy. Greed. Lies. All surround amateur sleuths Belinda Lawrence and Hazel Whitby in this maze of personalities.
An invitation to a private screening at a film group involves them in more than the cinematic arts.
Murder and the search for a long-lost film, involve them in more hair-raising adventures as they begin to investigate each member of the group, all of whom could be potential murderers.
Belinda's skills are tested as she faces the greatest danger in her sleuthing lifePower. Envy. Greed. Lies. All surround amateur sleuths Belinda Lawrence and Hazel Whitby in this maze of personalities.
An invitation to a private screening at a film group involves them in more than the cinematic arts.
Murder and the search for a long-lost film, involve them in more hair-raising adventures as they begin to investigate each member of the group, all of whom could be potential murderers.
Belinda's skills are tested as she faces the greatest danger in her sleuthing life.
Excerpt
Belinda Lawrence stood on the corner of Flinders & Swanston streets, outside St Paul’s Cathedral while waiting for the green light. Her thoughtful eyes followed the throng discharging from the rail station, sometimes veiled by the hulking, clangourous trams rattling across the intersection. Her mood was one of nostalgia blended with melancholy. The lights turned green, and along with the bustling crowd, Belinda made her way across to Federation Square. Her nostalgia stemmed from a return to her hometown of Melbourne and the gossamer memories it invoked. Melancholy from her recent breakup with her lover Mark Sallinger which, while undeniably justified, left an unexpected emptiness in her life along with a dispiriting ache lurking in the shadows.
The crossing complete, the Square lay before her, crowded now in the late summer sun with lunchtime diners, noisy college groups draped around the ochre-coloured sandstone blocks, fiddling with smartphones and taking selfies. Some tone-deaf street musicians added to the maelstrom of Melbourne at play.
Belinda turned from this and made her way along Flinders Street to the Australian Centre for the Moving Image. A large white acronym ACMI indicated she had arrived at her destination. The cinema programme had listed some films Belinda wanted to see, and she had agreed to meet up with Hazel Whitby who had gone on a shopping spree. A mixture of various film soundtracks emanating from a large display area drew Belinda into ‘Screen Worlds The Story of Film, Television & Digital Culture’, where historic fragments of a past culture’s moving image were on display: early cinema cameras, projectors, television sets, all marshalled together now for exploration by a generation bewitched by smartphones, social media, downloads, and the digital frangibility of 21st century enlightenment.
A display of coloured glass slides took her attention. They appeared to be religious images depicting the life of Christ. She began to read the accompanying text.
“Belinda?”
The sharp enquiry made her turn to seek out the speaker. “Belinda Lawrence? Is that you? Approaching her with tentative gait and querulous expression was a small rotund figure draped in a voluminous pashmina shawl conspicuously emblazoned with lurid butterflies. The colourful accessories, glitzy hair ornaments, fingers heavy with rings, armbands and bracelets, which taken together, indicated an aficionado of fin de sičcle 20th-century fashion. And crowning her head, hair the colour of straw, tipped with a purple tint, was held in the fashion of a distraught haystack, completing what the woman no doubt believed expressed her individuality and charisma.
A faint memory stirred in the back of Belinda’s brain.
“Belinda! It’s me. Bridie Kelly.” A wide smile creased the woman’s face as she clutched at Belinda’s arm.
Images of gymslips and the faint clink of hockey sticks flooded Belinda’s memory; Bridie Kelly, class swat, amateur thespian (her Lady Macbeth inspired excessive deployment of hand lotion among Year Ten scholars) and all-around eccentric.
“Oh, Bridie! You haven’t changed a bit,” said Belinda, as she tried to extricate her arm from Bridie’s grasp.
“I haven’t seen you since you went off to Uni,” chattered Bridie enthusiastically, “let me look at you.” She stepped back to evaluate her old school chum. What she saw was an apparition of what she had once aspired to but had failed, so miserably, to accomplish: Belinda had retained her slim build and figure, dressed now in a cream linen trouser suit. Her complexion clear, with one or two small wrinkles that come naturally as one approaches thirty: bright blue eyes, honey coloured hair: all in all, an attractive woman at her peak.
“I heard you inherited a mansion in South Kensington,” babbled Bridie, “after your aunt, who was a murderer and…”
Belinda was startled. “Nothing of the kind! My great aunt was murdered, and I inherited her cottage, not in South Kensington, but in Bath.”
Bridie chose to be agnostic towards this claim. A poor substitute for the grapevine scandal she had spread over many luncheon tables. “Not what I heard. Still, if you say so. But you did get involved selling antiques?”
“Yes. With Hazel. Hazel Whitby. You might meet her. We arranged to see a film here.”
However, Bridie would not be distracted from her inquisition. “And aren’t you engaged to a knight or a baron, or something? Anyway, someone with a title. We always said you’d make good. Will you be married here or in London?”
A shadow passed over Belinda’s face as she finally broke free from Bridie’s control. “Well, sadly the engagement is off.”
Bridie pulled a face indicating disappointment but masking her desire to hear all the intricate details behind that explosive news. She was about to express fabricated sympathy when her attention was taken by an event she witnessed over Belinda’s shoulder. Her eyes grew narrow, and her lips tightened into a disapproving line.
Belinda, startled by the woman’s expression, turned to see the cause. A thin young man, dressed in black jeans, T-shirt and coat, stepped from the escalator and hurried toward the downstairs exhibition centre. He brushed long black hair from his face, a face now distorted in anger. She heard Bridie utter the critical words. “The Turk!”
***
Jake G. Schwantz rushed across the foyer and careered down the steps. His long-fingered hand once more pushed languid hair from his eyes as he brushed violently past visitors on their way to the current film exhibition. His rage now took the form of expletives spilling from his bloodless lips, as in his mind he performed excruciating torture on his obstructionists. They were all a bunch of ‘has-been’ oldies! More like ‘never been’. How did he ever think they would understand what he was proposing? Couldn’t they see how they could all benefit from his scheme? Was he wasting his time with them? But of course, they held the upper hand. He hated to admit it, but without them, or at least some of them, he couldn’t put his plan into action. Who in the group was the most pliable? More open to suggestion? He gave a thin smile. Of course, Joe O’Brien!
***
Professional Reviews
5 stars Amazing series
Cozy Mystery Book Reviews
*****5.0 out of 5 stars Amazing series
Reviewed in the United States on June 18, 2020
If you look at the back cover of Ilusion of Death by Brian Kavanagh, you will see a blurb from me....
"Brian Kavanagh knows how to capture the reader's attention and holding it from the first page until the last word !! And the twists, turns and secrets that unfold will have the reader turning pages as fast as they can. There are so many things going on that keep the reader focused and you cannot help but fall in love with everything surrounding Belinda, her friends and the things that she stumbles across." - Review by Missi S. Cozy Mystery Book Reviews.
Illusion of Death is the seventh book in the Belinda Lawrence Murder Mystery series and I have had the pleasure of reading all of the books. Therefore I am an invested and dedicated fan of Kavanagh and feel like Belinda and Hazel are like family.
If you've read any of these books you know that trouble seems to follow Belinda and Hazel around. They seem to either attract or stumble across a dead body.....or two. However in Illusion of Death Belinda and Hazel are house sitting for Belinda's parents in Mellbourne, her hometown, while her parents are on a cruise. How can anything go wrong there ???
While Belinda is visiting the Austrialian Centre for the Moving Image, she runs into an old classmate, Bridie who invites her and Hazel to a screen of an old film . She is a member of a small group of people, they call themselves the "Society", who get together at an older man's property where he has a building set up to show old reels of movies. Little do the two know the craziness they are about to walk into.
While in the middle of the showing, one of the members storms in with blood on his hands saying that Max, the owner of the property, is in the main house dead !! After a quick look around, Belinda and Hazel know that Max was not only dead but had been murdered. This puts the ladies on high alert and even though they just met most of the people in the group, they start to wonder if they are guilty or innocent.
While Belinda and Hazel get to know the members of the "Society", they get themselves in hot water !! Can they get themselves out before they become victims as well ???
Kavanagh will get a firm grip on your attention in this book and you will be unable to break free until you get to the end of the book. There will come a part of the book where you will NOT want to stop reading. You will NEED to get to the bottom of things and find out who killed Max. Unravelling the secrets and long buried clues may seem like too much for you, but have no fear....when you are with Belinda and Hazel you are safe......plus I hope you are sitting on your comfy couch with a soothing beverage and your favorite snack.......
Films Lead To Murder
CozyreadersTop Contributor
*****5.0 out of 5 stars Historic Films Lead To Murder In Australia
Reviewed in the United States on December 1, 2018
Our intrepid duo, Belinda Lawrence and Hazel Whitby have landed back at Belinda's parents home in Melbourne, Australia. Well actually Eastern Melbourne to be correct. Belinda is healing her heart after breaking off her engagement.
During an afternoon of reflection for Belinda and shopping for Hazel, Belinda happens upon an showing at the Australian Centre for the Moving Image. Fascinated she heads towards a historic display showing parts of films, cameras, projection units etc.
Hearing her name hailed, Belinda turns to find an old school mate. Although rather annoying, Bridie is thrilled to find Belinda. Belinda, at loose ends, accepts an invitation from Bridie for herself and Hazel to attend a classic film society's gathering that evening.
The three ladies receive more than refreshments and a film showing...they are embroiled in a murder of no less than the owner of the house they are gathered in. Hazel and Belinda begin to take charge and off we go to solve the crime.
This novel takes us back into the history of cinematography in Australia. The author reminds us how far the industry has come since the nineteenth century. Names of famous old stars and productions come alive once more and add a dimension to the book that I didn't expect and was enchanted by.
The murder is...well, you will have to find out for yourselves as I am one reviewer who never gives away the five 'W's.' I will say I was still solving out the last W way near the ending. Exactly as Mr. clearly planned.
This is a book that will keep you turning the pages. Enjoy!
What's In A Name?
Victoria McCullough
*****5.0 out of 5 stars What's In A Name?
Reviewed in the United States on January 2, 2019
Verified Purchase
The Name Belinda Lawrence is well-known for those who like Kavanagh mysteries. A big "M" fan since when my mother and I had decided to div up books that were mysteries and exchange chat about them, I liked this one--Illusion Of Death.
I found it an on it-sitter. I've read Kavanagh before and have enjoyed the jaunt through. I felt I also liked it the way I like music on the free radio where you are innocent of the scenes and just want to pass the time getting a chance to go from cops and robbers playing their roles to the film-industry as it grew. From Belinda Lawrence, to Hazel, to Lance, to Harry to Max's Culprit--these names are as cool as the thought that you can actually don the role of a J.D. Salinger, so-to-speak, even though you are a greatly enjoyed Australian writer like Kavanagh! Read this and you will probably fear no malice. The craft of writing in its perfection. Ready, set, do it! Go for Kavanagh when choosing a good book!
Another fun story with Belinda Lawrence and Hazel Whitby who always seems to be at the wrong place at the right time. Stumbling onto a murder or two just seems to follow them. This time, Belinda runs into an old school chum, Bridie, who invites them to a viewing of an old film put on by a group she belongs to called, the "Society." Of course, while there, one of the members in covered in blood to announce that the homeowner is dead. Of course, it's murder, and then when the story picks up and Belinda and Hazel take over trying to solve the crime. "Illusion of Death" is another well-written book of mystery and intrigue. It has so many twists and turns that the reader cannot put it down. A great page-turner. Kavanagh is an expert writer of mystery...engaging the reader from page one until the conclusion. Noo spoiler alerts here! Go read the book - it's fantastic.
