Nothing Can Rescue Me: Henry Gamadge #6 (Volume 6)
By Elizabeth Daly
In this mystery by Agatha Christie’s favorite American author, an amateur sleuth deals with sinister spirits and murder at a New York country mansion.
It’s mid-1943, and Henry Gamadge is up to his elbows in war work and longing for a quiet weekend. But when a half-forgotten classmate requests assistance, Gamadge is unable to refuse the tug of an old school tie. Sylvanus Hutter is concerned about his Aunt Florence, a giddy socialite terrified of Nazi bombs. Florence has moved her extensive household of hangers-on to the family mansion in upstate New York. But menace seems to have followed them, in the form of threatening messages inserted into the manuscript of Florence’s painfully bad novel in progress. Several members of the household are convinced the messages are emanating from Another World, but the politely pragmatic Gamadge suspects a culprit rather closer to home.
“Deliciously gossipy, back-biting characters, an imposing mansion in upstate New York . . . altogether a pleasure.” —The New Yorker
In this mystery by Agatha Christie’s favorite American author, an amateur sleuth deals with sinister spirits and murder at a New York country mansion.
It’s mid-1943, and Henry Gamadge is up to his elbows in war work and longing for a quiet weekend. But when a half-forgotten classmate requests assistance, Gamadge is unable to refuse the tug of an old school tie. Sylvanus Hutter is concerned about his Aunt Florence, a giddy socialite terrified of Nazi bombs. Florence has moved her extensive household of hangers-on to the family mansion in upstate New York. But menace seems to have followed them, in the form of threatening messages inserted into the manuscript of Florence’s painfully bad novel in progress. Several members of the household are convinced the messages are emanating from Another World, but the politely pragmatic Gamadge suspects a culprit rather closer to home.
“Deliciously gossipy, back-biting characters, an imposing mansion in upstate New York . . . altogether a pleasure.” —The New Yorker