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Tim Heald
Tim Heald read Modern History at Balliol College, Oxford and has been a writer ever since. His many books include novels, biographies and studies of royalty, Old Boys' networks and Hong Kong under the last Governor. He has written ten Simon Bognor who-dunnits as well as a number of short stories. He is also the creator of ffiennes and Carruthers of Scotland Yard’s Social Branch and of Dr Tudor Cornwall, Reader in Criminal Studies at Wessex University. Heald is a former Chairman of the Crime Writers’ Association and a fellow of the Royal Society of Literature. | |||
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Tim Heald's titles | ISBNs | ||
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Unbecoming Habits & Blue Blood WIll Out | 1-903552-26-5 1-903552-27-3 1-903552-28-1 | ||
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Unbecoming Habits & Blue Blood Will Out to top • Brother Luke was late again. But this time Brother Luke’s excuse for missing Sext was the best possible. He had been lying face down among the protatoes for quite some time when Brother Bede finally found him, turned him over and noticed that the deep magenta marks around his neck matched the pattern of th crucifix chain he always wore. He was, of course, extremely dead... • Frederick, third Earl of Maidenhead, had woken at six-thirty, drunk one cup of tea from the Teasmade machine and put on a pair of individually styled bathing trunks with FM embroidered on the left leg. While the rest of Sir Canning's guests slept, he was drifting downstream. He appeared to be making no effort to swim further; his arms and legs were perfectly limp. He was, of course, extremely dead... |  | ||
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Deadline & Let Sleeping Dogs Die to top • Shortly after eleven o’clock that evening St John Derby, the editor of the Samuel Pepys column of the DAILY GLOBE, had lurched into his office, poured himself a drink and rung the nightwatchman for a cab. When Albert came up to tell him that the taxi was downstairs, he found the reveller slumped across the blotter. He attempted to shake St John into motion. But St John Derby was not just drunk. He was, of course, extremely dead... • The kennelmaid, walking briskly down the path, noticed a sleek black shape stretched out at the corner of one of the enclosures. Instantly she knew that it was the champion Three Corners, the son of Champion Whately Winner and Champion Connemara Cutie, and the finest dog ever bred in Alisa Potts’ kennels. A few seconds later she was inside the cage, kneeling beside him. He was, of course, extremely dead... |  | ||
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Just Desserts & Murder at Moose Jaw to top • Escoffier Savarin Smith was sitting at a table in the kitchen of his celebrated restaurant, with white linen napkin tucked into his shirt front, having his customary pick-me-up after erveryone had gone. In front of him were two full bottles of Krug, a great deal more than usual. When work began after breakfast, le patron was found sprawled forward across the table, head resting between empty bottles. He was, of course, extremely dead... • The smile was still on Sir Roderick Farquhar’s face when Amos Littlejohn brought him breakfast next morning. But Sir Roderick wasn’t at all hungry. He was, of course, extremely dead... |  | ||
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