The Golden Tresses of the Dead
Reviewers love Alan Bradley’s New York Times bestselling Flavia de Luce series!
The GRAVE’S a FINE and PRIVATE PLACE
New York Times bestseller
Publishers Weekly bestseller
Indie bestseller
“Outstanding…As usual, Bradley makes his improbable series conceit work and relieves the plot’s inherent darkness with clever humor.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“There’s only one Flavia….Series fans will anticipate the details of this investigation, along with one last taste of Flavia’s unorthodox family life.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“Bradley’s unquenchable heroine brings ‘the most complicated case I had ever come across’ to a highly satisfying conclusion, with the promise of still brighter days ahead.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“As those of us with Flavia-mania know from previous books, the plucky adolescent is terrifically entertaining—the world’s foremost brainiac/chemist/sleuth/busybody/smarty-pants. Nobody can touch her in that category.”
—The Seattle Times
“Provides all her fans with their Flavia fix…The Flavia de Luce books fall into that somewhat rare category for me. I delight in the witticisms and language and the flavor and color of the well-developed characters, wanting to read slowly, savoring every word, but then there is the mystery to be solved, so I find myself rushing to the end. Only one solution I can come up with: Read them again…and again.”
—Fredericksburg Free Lance-Star
“[Bradley] lets Flavia be her hilarious, inimical best, and perfectly captures village life in 1950s Britain. Historical fiction and mystery readers alike are sure to rejoice at getting to spend another afternoon in Flavia’s agreeable world.”
—Shelf Awareness
“Bradley’s style of writing is quick-witted, fact-laden and extremely fun to read….A wonderful series for most ages.”
—Killer Nashville
THRICE the BRINDED CAT HATH MEW’D
New York Times bestseller
USA Today bestseller
LibraryReads pick
“Bradley’s heroine is one of the most delightful, and one of the sharpest, sleuths to come along in a long, long time.”
—Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine
“The preteen version of Miss Marple…In addition to the meticulous investigations, what makes these novels, including this eighth in the series, so enjoyable is the personality of the primary character who, while being a murder investigator savant, is also an emotionally vulnerable little girl. It is a very unusual combination…and it works.”
—Mystery Scene
“Mystery fans seeking novels of wit, an immersive English countryside setting, and rich characterizations will be rewarded with this newest entry in the award-winning series.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“A Flavia de Luce mystery is a bitter, dark, and thoroughly scrumptious treat….Highly recommended; don’t miss this!”
—Historical Novel Society
“Bradley’s preteen heroine comes through in the end with a series of deductions so clever she wants to hug herself. So will you.”
—Kirkus Reviews
As CHIMNEY SWEEPERS COME to DUST
#1 Pick for LibraryReads
#1 Maclean’s bestseller
#3 New York Times bestseller
#6 Indie bestseller
#7 Publishers Weekly bestseller
“Eleven-year-old Flavia de Luce, perhaps contemporary crime fiction’s most original character—to say she is Pippi Longstocking with a Ph.D. in chemistry (speciality: poisons) barely begins to describe her—is finally coming home.”
—Maclean’s
“Plot twists come faster than Canadian snowfall….Bradley’s sense of observation is as keen as gung-ho scientist Flavia’s….The results so far are seven sparkling Flavia de Luce mysteries.”
—LibraryReads
“Even after all these years, Flavia de Luce is still the world’s greatest adolescent British chemist/busybody/sleuth.”
—The Seattle Times
The DEAD in THEIR VAULTED ARCHES
#1 Library Journal pick
#6 New York Times bestseller
#3 Indie bestseller
#3 NPR bestseller
#10 Publishers Weekly bestseller
“Bradley’s latest Flavia de Luce novel reaches a new level of perfection….These are astounding, magical books not to be missed.”
—RT Book Reviews (Top Pick)
“It’s hard to resist either the genre’s pre-eminent preteen sleuth or the hushed revelations about her family.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Excellent…Flavia retains her droll wit….The solution to the murder is typically neat, and the conclusion sets up future books nicely.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Young chemist and aspiring detective Flavia de Luce [uses] her knowledge of poisons, and her indefatigable spirit, to solve a dastardly crime in the English countryside while learning new clues about her mother’s disappearance.”
—National Public Radio
SPEAKING from AMONG the BONES
“The precocious and irrepressible Flavia continues to delight. Portraying an eleven-year-old as a plausible sleuth and expert in poisons is no mean feat, but Bradley makes it look easy.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Bradley’s Flavia cozies, set in the English countryside, have been a hit from the start, and this fifth in the series continues to charm and entertain.”
—Booklist
“An excellent reminder that crime fiction can sparkle with wit, crackle with spirit and verge on the surreal…Flavia, once more, entertains and delights as she exposes the inner workings of her investigative mind to the reader.”
—National Post (Canada)
I AM HALF-SICK of SHADOWS
“Every Flavia de Luce novel is a reason to celebrate, but Christmas with Flavia is a holiday wish come true for her fans.”
—USA Today (four stars)
“This is a classic country house mystery in the tradition of Agatha Christie, and Poirot himself would approve of Flavia’s skills in snooping and deduction. Flavia is everything a reader wants in a detective—she’s smart, logical, intrepid and curious….This is a refreshingly engaging read.”
—RT Book Reviews
“This is a delightful read through and through. We find in Flavia an incorrigible and wholly lovable detective; from her chemical experiments in her sanctum sanctorum to her outrage at the idiocy of the adult world, she is unequaled. Charming as a stand-alone novel and a guaranteed smash with series followers.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
A RED HERRING Without MUSTARD
“Bradley’s third book about tween sleuth Flavia de Luce will make readers forget Nancy Drew.”
—People
“Think preteen Nancy Drew, only savvier and a lot richer, and you have Flavia de Luce….Don’t be fooled by Flavia’s age or the 1950s setting: A Red Herring isn’t a dainty tea-and-crumpets sort of mystery. It’s shot through with real grit.”
—Entertainment Weekly
“Delightful…The book’s forthright and eerily mature narrator is a treasure.”
—The Seattle Times
“Bradley’s characters, wonderful dialogue and plot twists are a most winning combination.”
—USA Today
The WEED That STRINGS the HANGMAN’S BAG
“Flavia is incisive, cutting and hilarious…one of the most remarkable creations in recent literature.”
—USA Today
“Bradley takes everything you expect and subverts it, delivering a smart, irreverent, unsappy mystery.”
—Entertainment Weekly
“The real delight here is her droll voice and the eccentric cast….Utterly beguiling.”
—People (four stars)
“Endlessly entertaining…The author deftly evokes the period, but Flavia’s sparkling narration is the mystery’s chief delight. Comic and irreverent, this entry is sure to build further momentum for the series.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
The SWEETNESS at the BOTTOM of the PIE
THE MOST AWARD-WINNING BOOK OF ANY YEAR!
WINNER:
Macavity Award for Best First Mystery Novel
Barry Award for Best First Novel
Agatha Award for Best First Novel
Dilys Award
Arthur Ellis Award for Best Novel
Spotted Owl Award for Best Novel
CWA Debut Dagger Award
“Impressive as a sleuth and enchanting as a mad scientist…Flavia is most endearing as a little girl who has learned how to amuse herself in a big lonely house.”
—MARILYN STASIO, The New York Times Book Review
“Sophisticated, series-launching…It’s a rare pleasure to follow Flavia as she investigates her limited but boundless-feeling world.”
—Entertainment Weekly (A-)
“A delightful new sleuth. A combination of Eloise and Sherlock Holmes…fearless, cheeky, wildly precocious.”
—The Boston Globe
The Golden Tresses of the Dead is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Alan Bradley
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
DELACORTE PRESS and the HOUSE colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Names: Bradley, C. Alan, author.
Title: The golden tresses of the dead : a Flavia de Luce novel / Alan Bradley.
Description: First edition. | New York : Delacorte Press, [2019] | Series: Flavia de Luce ; 10
Identifiers: LCCN 2018039374| ISBN 9780345540027 (hardback : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780345540041 (ebook)
Subjects: | BISAC: FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General. | FICTION / Thrillers. | FICTION / Historical. | GSAFD: Mystery fiction.
Classification: LCC PR9199.4.B7324 G65 2019 | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018039374
Ebook ISBN 9780345540041
randomhousebooks.com
Book design by Diane Hobbing, adapted for ebook
Cover design and artwork: Joe Montgomery
Cover images: © 123rf.com
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Epigraph
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Dedication
Acknowledgments
By Alan Bradley
About the Author
Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,
When beauty lived and died as flowers do now,
Before these bastard signs of fair were born,
Or durst inhabit on a living brow;
Before the golden tresses of the dead,
The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,
To live a second life on second head;
Ere beauty’s dead fleece made another gay:
In him those holy antique hours are seen,
Without all ornament, itself and true,
Making no summer of another’s green,
Robbing no old to dress his beauty new;
And him as for a map doth Nature store,
To show false Art what beauty was of yore.
—William Shakespeare, “Sonnet 68”
· ONE ·
I’D LIKE TO REMARK at the outset that I’m a girl with better than an average brain. Just as some people are given the gift of a singular and often quite remarkable talent—such as Violet Cornish’s uncanny ability to break wind to the tune of “Joy to the World”—I myself, in much the same way, have been blessed with the power of logical thinking. As Violet could easily confirm, it’s something you’re born with, and then improve by much practice.
The many occasions upon which I had been consulted by the constabulary had sharpened my already considerable detection skills to the point where I had little choice but to turn professional. And so I had set up with Dogger, my late father’s valet, gardener, and all-round sounding board, a small agency to which we gave the name—to signal respectability—Arthur W. Dogger & Associates.
Little did we know that our very first case would be so close to home.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me begin at the beginning.
* * *
—
My sister Ophelia’s wedding was spoiled only slightly by someone calling out coarsely, as the bride floated in modest beauty up the aisle of the ancient church, “Hubba hubba, ding-ding, twenty years in Sing Sing!” The culprit was Carl Pendracka, one of Feely’s former suitors. It was his Cincinnati accent that gave him away.
We all of us pretended we hadn’t heard, except my odious, moon-faced cousin, Undine, who let out one of her long, wet, horrible, slobbering snickers, such as might have been made by a herd of cannibal cows.
More troubling, though, was when, just a few moments later—at the precise moment the vicar addressed the congregation: “If any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace”—one of the carved and painted angels, from its place high among the roof beams, cried out suddenly, in the zany voice of a certain cinema cartoon character, “I do! I do! Call the police!”
It was Undine, of course, who, bored by lack of attention, decided to practice her ventriloquism—which she had been studying for some time from a sixpenny book.
Aside from that—except for the human remains—it was a beautiful occasion.
Preparations had begun far in advance. First there had been the cake.
>
“The weddin’ cake must be laid down ’least six months before the nup-chools,” Mrs. Mullet had said, waving a batter-coated wooden spoon at me in the kitchen. “Else the marriage’ll be poisoned.”
The mention of poison captured my undivided attention.
“What kind of poison?” I asked.
“The worst kind. The poison of leavin’ things to be done on the spurt of the moment. Just look at that Lucy Havers, as was, and then talk to me about darin’ the devil. Left it till the day before ’er weddin’ to ’ave ’er cake baked at that Bunne Shoppe in ’Inley, if you can credit it, an’ look what happened to ’er!”
I raised my eyebrows in a “What happened to her?” signal.
“ ’Er ’usband—one o’ them Simmonses, ’e was—run off with a tart from the Bunne Shoppe the day after they got ’ome from their ’oneymoon in ’Astings.”
“If it were me, I’d have run off with an apple pie,” I said, pretending I didn’t understand her meaning, a tactic I am increasingly forced to employ in order to protect my alleged innocence.
Mrs. Mullet smiled at my modesty. “Like I said, a weddin’ fruitcake must be laid down six months ahead o’ time and left to sleep in the larder till required,” she said, returning to her theme. Mrs. Mullet could be uncommonly informative when allowed to lecture uninterrupted, and I pulled up a chair to listen.
“Like layin’ the keel of a battleship,” she went on. “You mustn’t leave it till the enemy’s in sight.”
“Who’s the enemy?” I asked. “The groom?”