Barbara Hamilton The Ninth Daughter (epub)

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.Table of ContentsTitle PageCopyright PageDedicationOneTwoThreeFourFiveSixSevenEightNineTenElevenTwelveThirteenFourteenFifteenSixteenSeventeenEighteenNineteenTwentyTwenty-oneTwenty-twoTwenty-threeTwenty-fourTwenty-fiveTwenty-sixTwenty-sevenTwenty-eightTwenty-nineThirtyThirty-oneThirty-twoThirty-threeThirty-fourNot the usual suspects.Abigail looked at the paper as she moved to put it in the pocket of her skirt.It wasn’t a poem.It was a list of names.Her eye picked out John’s, close to the top.Above it was that of John Hancock, one of the wealthiest merchants in Boston and known throughout the colony as the man to go to if you wanted good quality tea without the added expense of British excise tax.Her good friend—and John’s—Paul Revere the silversmith, and young Dr.Warren, Rob Newman who was sexton of the Old North Church, Billy Dawes the cobbler.Names Abigail knew.She knew the handwriting on the list, too, and felt a chill start behind her breastbone, spreading to her hands and feet.The handwriting was that of John’s wily cousin Sam: Sam who was the head of the secret society dedicated to organizing all who wished for the overthrow of the King’s government in the colonies.The Sons of Liberty.It was a list of the names of about twenty of the Sons.All of whom would, if the list fell into the government’s hands, beyond the shadow of a doubt be hanged.THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUPPublished by the Penguin GroupPenguin Group (USA) Inc.375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USAPenguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, EnglandPenguin Group Ireland, 25 St.Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty.Ltd.)Penguin Books India Pvt.Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, IndiaPenguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,South AfricaPenguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, EnglandThis book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.This is a work of fiction.Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.Copyright © 2009 by Moon Horse, Inc.All rights reserved.No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.Purchase only authorized editions.BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.PRINTING HISTORYBerkley Prime Crime trade paperback edition / October 2009Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication DataHamilton, Barbara.The ninth daughter / Barbara Hamilton.—Berkley Prime Crime trade paperback ed.p.cm.—(An Abigail Adams mystery; 1)eISBN : 978-1-101-14038-31.Adams, Abigail, 1744-1818—Fiction.2.Murder—Investigation—Fiction.3.Massachusetts—History—Revolution, 1775-1783—Fiction.I.Title.PS3608.A673N56 2009813’.6—dc22 2009025137http://us.penguingroup.comFor Gene L.with thanksOneA bigail Adams smelled the blood before she saw the door was open.In November, Boston didn’t reek the way it did in summer, especially down here in Fish Street.The coppery blood-stink cut the more prosaic pong of fish-heads and privies from the moment she stepped through the gate into Tillet’s Yard, the way the single thread of gore seemed to shriek at her against the gray of the wet morning, trickling down Rebecca Malvern’s doorstep.For that first instant, Abigail thought: One of the cats.Or maybe Nehemiah Tillet’s cook had been clumsy, gutting a chicken.Only then did she see the open door.The British—Her marketing basket slipped from her hands and she gathered her skirts, strode to the place, heart in her throat.Rebecca—It wasn’t the first time blood had been shed in Boston.Before Abigail’s eyes flashed the red-spattered snow of King Street, three and a half years ago now but alive in her mind as if it were yesterday.For an instant she heard again the shouting of the King’s soldiers and the mob, smelled powder-smoke thick in the air.Rebecca’s broadsides against the King and the King’s troops were absolutely scathing.If someone told them who she was, and where she could be found—Abigail froze in the doorway, hand pressed to her mouth.Her first impression was that the whole floor of the tiny kitchen had been flooded with blood.It pooled in the hollows of the worn bricks, overspilled the threshold.Yet it wasn’t the first thing that slashed her mind, seized her eyes.A woman lay facedown close to the overturned table.Gray dress, dark hair; skirt and petticoats turned up to her waist.Her bare buttocks and thighs were crisscrossed with knife slits.One shoe of fine green leather had been kicked off, lay on its side like a tiny wrecked boat against the irons of the hearth.“Rebecca—”Abigail’s vision grayed [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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