Articles liés à The Crossing Places (Ruth Galloway Mysteries)
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Book by Griffiths Elly
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Praise for the Ruth Galloway Mystery Series"Elly Griffiths draws us all the way back to prehistoric times...Highly atmospheric." —The New York Times Book Review"Galloway is an everywoman, smart, successful and a little bit unsure of herself. Readers will look forward to learning more about her." —USA Today "Ruth Galloway is a remarkable, delightful character...A must-read for fans of crime and mystery fiction." —Associated Press"Forensic archeologist and academic Ruth Galloway is a captivating amateur sleuth—an inspired creation. I identified with her insecurities and struggles, and cheered her on. " —Louise Penny, author of the bestselling Armand Gamache series"These books are must-reads." —Deborah Crombie, author of the Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series"[Ruth Galloway’s] an uncommon, down-to-earth heroine whose acute insight, wry humor, and depth of feeling make her a thoroughly engaging companion." —Erin Hart, Agatha and Anthony Award nominated author of Haunted Ground and Lake of Sorrows"A wonderfully rich mixture of ancient and contemporary, superstition and rationality, with a cast of druids, dreamers and assorted tree-huggers as well as some thoroughly modern villains...A great series." —The Guardian"[An] excellent series...Skillful and engaging." —The Globe and Mail"Griffiths is one of England’s freshest mystery writers. Her novels combine a dramatic sense of place with a complicated mystery, and with each new installment, her character of Ruth Galloway becomes more complex and dynamic." —Curled Up with a Good Book"Griffiths does a lot to humanize forensic archaeology and serves up great dollops of historical details in her Ruth Galloway series...Griffiths is great at conveying the archaeologist’s passion for finds, forensic or historic." —Booklist, starred review"Griffiths is a true mystery writer." —Ann Arbor News
Praise for the Ruth Galloway Mystery Series"Elly Griffiths draws us all the way back to prehistoric times...Highly atmospheric." —The New York Times Book Review"Galloway is an everywoman, smart, successful and a little bit unsure of herself. Readers will look forward to learning more about her." —USA Today "Ruth Galloway is a remarkable, delightful character...A must-read for fans of crime and mystery fiction." —Associated Press
"Forensic archeologist and academic Ruth Galloway is a captivating amateur sleuth—an inspired creation. I identified with her insecurities and struggles, and cheered her on. " —Louise Penny, author of the bestselling Armand Gamache series"These books are must-reads." —Deborah Crombie, author of the Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series"[Ruth Galloway’s] an uncommon, down-to-earth heroine whose acute insight, wry humor, and depth of feeling make her a thoroughly engaging companion." —Erin Hart, Agatha and Anthony Award nominated author of Haunted Ground and Lake of Sorrows"A wonderfully rich mixture of ancient and contemporary, superstition and rationality, with a cast of druids, dreamers and assorted tree-huggers as well as some thoroughly modern villains...A great series." —The Guardian"[An] excellent series...Skillful and engaging." —The Globe and Mail"Griffiths is one of England’s freshest mystery writers. Her novels combine a dramatic sense of place with a complicated mystery, and with each new installment, her character of Ruth Galloway becomes more complex and dynamic." —Curled Up with a Good Book"Griffiths does a lot to humanize forensic archaeology and serves up great dollops of historical details in her Ruth Galloway series...Griffiths is great at conveying the archaeologist’s passion for finds, forensic or historic." —Booklist, starred review"Griffiths is a true mystery writer." —Ann Arbor News
Extrait :
PRAISE FOR ELLY GRIFFITHS AND THE RUTH GALLOWAY SERIES
Winner of the Mary Higgins Clark Award Winner of the CWA Dagger in the Library Award "Galloway is an everywoman, smart, successful and a little bit unsure of herself. Readers will look forward to learning more about her." —USA Today "Elly Griffiths draws us all the way back to prehistoric times...Highly atmospheric." —The New York Times Book Review "Forensic archeologist and academic Ruth Galloway is a captivating amateur sleuth-an inspired creation. I identified with her insecurities and struggles, and cheered her on. " —Louise Penny, author of the bestselling Armand Gamache series "These books are must-reads." —Deborah Crombie, author of the Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series "[Ruth Galloway's] an uncommon, down-to-earth heroine whose acute insight, wry humor, and depth of feeling make her a thoroughly engaging companion." —Erin Hart, Agatha and Anthony Award nominated author of Haunted Ground and Lake of Sorrows "Ruth Galloway is a remarkable, delightful character...A must-read for fans of crime and mystery fiction." —Associated Press "Rich in atmosphere and history and blessed by [Griffith's] continuing development of brilliant, feisty, independent Ruth...A Room Full of Bones, like its predecessors, works its magic on the reader's imagination." —Richmond Times-Dispatch "Lovers of well-written and intelligent traditional mysteries will welcome [Griffith's] fourth book...A Room Full of Bones is a clever blend of history and mystery with more than enough forensic details to attract the more attentive reader." —Denver Post"Forensic archeologist and academic Ruth Galloway is a captivating amateur sleuth - an inspired creation. I identified with her insecurities and struggles, and cheered her on. The Saltmarsh where Ruth lives in isolation conjures a background of intense menace propelling this gripping story to a surprising and terrifying ending. This is a book rich in plot, character and setting and heralds an exciting new voice on the crime scene."-- Louise Penny winner of the Anthony and Agatha awards
Praise for the Ruth Galloway Mystery Series"Elly Griffiths draws us all the way back to prehistoric times...Highly atmospheric." —The New York Times Book Review"Galloway is an everywoman, smart, successful and a little bit unsure of herself. Readers will look forward to learning more about her." —USA Today "Ruth Galloway is a remarkable, delightful character...A must-read for fans of crime and mystery fiction." —Associated Press"Forensic archeologist and academic Ruth Galloway is a captivating amateur sleuth—an inspired creation. I identified with her insecurities and struggles, and cheered her on. " —Louise Penny, author of the bestselling Armand Gamache series"These books are must-reads." —Deborah Crombie, author of the Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series"[Ruth Galloway’s] an uncommon, down-to-earth heroine whose acute insight, wry humor, and depth of feeling make her a thoroughly engaging companion." —Erin Hart, Agatha and Anthony Award nominated author of Haunted Ground and Lake of Sorrows"A wonderfully rich mixture of ancient and contemporary, superstition and rationality, with a cast of druids, dreamers and assorted tree-huggers as well as some thoroughly modern villains...A great series." —The Guardian"[An] excellent series...Skillful and engaging." —The Globe and Mail"Griffiths is one of England’s freshest mystery writers. Her novels combine a dramatic sense of place with a complicated mystery, and with each new installment, her character of Ruth Galloway becomes more complex and dynamic." —Curled Up with a Good Book"Griffiths does a lot to humanize forensic archaeology and serves up great dollops of historical details in her Ruth Galloway series...Griffiths is great at conveying the archaeologist’s passion for finds, forensic or historic." —Booklist, starred review"Griffiths is a true mystery writer." —Ann Arbor News
Praise for the Ruth Galloway Mystery Series"Elly Griffiths draws us all the way back to prehistoric times...Highly atmospheric." —The New York Times Book Review"Galloway is an everywoman, smart, successful and a little bit unsure of herself. Readers will look forward to learning more about her." —USA Today "Ruth Galloway is a remarkable, delightful character...A must-read for fans of crime and mystery fiction." —Associated Press
"Forensic archeologist and academic Ruth Galloway is a captivating amateur sleuth—an inspired creation. I identified with her insecurities and struggles, and cheered her on. " —Louise Penny, author of the bestselling Armand Gamache series"These books are must-reads." —Deborah Crombie, author of the Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James series"[Ruth Galloway’s] an uncommon, down-to-earth heroine whose acute insight, wry humor, and depth of feeling make her a thoroughly engaging companion." —Erin Hart, Agatha and Anthony Award nominated author of Haunted Ground and Lake of Sorrows"A wonderfully rich mixture of ancient and contemporary, superstition and rationality, with a cast of druids, dreamers and assorted tree-huggers as well as some thoroughly modern villains...A great series." —The Guardian"[An] excellent series...Skillful and engaging." —The Globe and Mail"Griffiths is one of England’s freshest mystery writers. Her novels combine a dramatic sense of place with a complicated mystery, and with each new installment, her character of Ruth Galloway becomes more complex and dynamic." —Curled Up with a Good Book"Griffiths does a lot to humanize forensic archaeology and serves up great dollops of historical details in her Ruth Galloway series...Griffiths is great at conveying the archaeologist’s passion for finds, forensic or historic." —Booklist, starred review"Griffiths is a true mystery writer." —Ann Arbor News
‘So you live out Saltmarsh way?’ DI Nelson says, pulling out across the traffic with a squeal of tires. He drives like a maniac.
‘Yes,’ says Ruth, feeling defensive though she doesn’t know why. ‘New Road.’
‘New Road!’ Nelson lets out a bark of laughter. ‘I thought only twitchers lived out there.’
‘Well, the warden of the bird sanctuary is one of my neighbours,’ says Ruth, struggling to remain polite while keeping one foot clamped on an imaginary brake.
‘I wouldn’t fancy it,’ says Nelson. ‘Too isolated.’
‘I like it,’ says Ruth. ‘I did a dig there and never left.’
‘A dig? Archaeology?’
...
She turns to Nelson. ‘We were looking for a henge.’
‘A henge? Like Stonehenge?’
‘Yes. All it means is a circular bank with a ditch around it. Usually with posts inside the circle.’
‘I read somewhere that Stonehenge is just a big sundial. A way of telling the time.’
‘Well, we don’t know exactly what it was for,’ says Ruth, ‘but it’s safe to say that it involves ritual of some kind.’
Nelson shoots a strange look at her.
‘Ritual?’
‘Yes, worship, offerings, sacrifices.’
‘Sacrifices?’ echoes Nelson. He seems genuinely interested now; the faintly condescending note has disappeared from his voice.
‘Well, sometimes we find evidence of sacrifices. Pots, spears, animal bones.’
‘What about human bones? Do you ever find human bones?’
‘Yes, sometimes human bones.’
There is silence and then Nelson says, ‘Funny place for one of those henge things, isn’t it? Right out to sea.’
‘This wasn’t sea then. Landscape changes. Only ten thousand years ago this country was still linked to the continent. You could walk from here to Scandinavia.’
‘You’re joking!’
‘No. King’s Lynn was once a huge tidal lake. That’s what Lynn means. It’s the Celtic word for lake.’
Nelson turns to look sceptically at her, causing the car to swerve alarmingly. Ruth wonders if he suspects her of making the whole thing up.
‘So if this area wasn’t sea, what was it?’
‘Flat marshland. We think the henge was on the edge of a marsh.’
‘Still seems a funny place to build something like that.’
‘Marshland is very important in prehistory,’ explains Ruth. ‘It’s a kind of symbolic landscape. We think that it was important because it’s a link between the land and the sea, or between life and death.’
Nelson snorts. ‘Come again?’
‘Well, marsh isn’t dry land and it isn’t sea. It’s a sort of mixture of both. We know it was important to prehistoric man.’
‘How do we know?’
‘We’ve found objects left on the edge of marshes. Votive hoards.’
‘Votive?’
‘Offerings to the Gods, left at special or sacred places. And sometimes bodies. Have you heard of bog bodies? Lindow Man?’
‘Might have,’ says Nelson cautiously.
‘Bodies buried in peat are almost perfectly preserved, but some people think the bodies were buried in the bogs for a purpose. To appease the Gods.’
Nelson shoots her another look but says nothing. They are approaching the Saltmarsh now, driving up from the lower road towards the visitor car park....
The car park is empty apart from a solitary police car. The occupant gets out as they approach and stands there, looking cold and fed up.
‘Doctor Ruth Galloway,’ Nelson introduces briskly, ‘Detective Sergeant Clough.’
DS Clough nods glumly. Ruth gets the impression that hanging about on a windy marshland is not his favourite way of passing the time. Nelson, though, looks positively eager, jogging slightly on the spot like a racehorse in sight of the gallops. He leads the way along a gravel path marked ‘Visitor’s Trail’. They pass a wooden hide, built on stilts over the marsh. It is empty, apart from some crisp wrappers and an empty can of Coke lying on the surrounding platform.
Nelson, without stopping, points at the litter and barks, ‘Bag it.’ Ruth has to admire his thoroughness, if not his manners. It occurs to her that police work must be rather similar to archaeology. She, too, would bag anything found at a site, labelling it carefully to give it a context. She, too, would be prepared to search for days, weeks, in the hope of finding something significant. She, too, she realises with a sudden shiver, is primarily concerned with death.
Ruth is out of breath before they find the spot marked out with the blue and white police tape that reminds her of traffic accidents. Nelson is now some ten yards ahead, hands in pockets, head forward as if sniffing the air. Clough plods behind him, holding a plastic bag containing the rubbish from the hide.
Beyond the tape is a shallow hole, half-filled by muddy water. Ruth ducks under the tape and kneels down to look. Clearly visible in the rich mud are human bones.
‘How did you find this?’ she asks.
It is Clough who answers. ‘Member of the public, walking her dog. Animal actually had one of the bones in its mouth.’
‘Did you keep it? The bone, I mean.’
‘It’s at the station.’
Ruth takes a quick photo of the site and sketches a brief map in her notebook. This is the far west of the marsh; she has never dug here before. The beach, where the henge was found, is about two miles away to the east. Squatting down on the muddy soil, she begins laboriously bailing out the water, using a plastic beaker from her excavation kit. Nelson is almost hopping with impatience.
‘Can’t we help with that?’ he asks.
‘No,’ says Ruth shortly.
When the hole is almost free from water, Ruth’s heart starts to beat faster. Carefully she scoops out another beakerful of water and only then reaches into the mud and exposes something that is pressed flat against the dark soil.
‘Well?’ Nelson is leaning eagerly over her shoulder.
‘It’s a body,’ says Ruth hesitantly, ‘but ...’
Slowly she reaches for her trowel. She mustn’t rush things. She has seen entire excavations ruined because of one moment’s carelessness. So, with Nelson grinding his teeth beside her, she gently lifts away the sodden soil. A hand, slightly clenched, wearing a bracelet of what looks like grass, lies exposed in the trench.
‘Yes,’ says Ruth, feeling defensive though she doesn’t know why. ‘New Road.’
‘New Road!’ Nelson lets out a bark of laughter. ‘I thought only twitchers lived out there.’
‘Well, the warden of the bird sanctuary is one of my neighbours,’ says Ruth, struggling to remain polite while keeping one foot clamped on an imaginary brake.
‘I wouldn’t fancy it,’ says Nelson. ‘Too isolated.’
‘I like it,’ says Ruth. ‘I did a dig there and never left.’
‘A dig? Archaeology?’
...
She turns to Nelson. ‘We were looking for a henge.’
‘A henge? Like Stonehenge?’
‘Yes. All it means is a circular bank with a ditch around it. Usually with posts inside the circle.’
‘I read somewhere that Stonehenge is just a big sundial. A way of telling the time.’
‘Well, we don’t know exactly what it was for,’ says Ruth, ‘but it’s safe to say that it involves ritual of some kind.’
Nelson shoots a strange look at her.
‘Ritual?’
‘Yes, worship, offerings, sacrifices.’
‘Sacrifices?’ echoes Nelson. He seems genuinely interested now; the faintly condescending note has disappeared from his voice.
‘Well, sometimes we find evidence of sacrifices. Pots, spears, animal bones.’
‘What about human bones? Do you ever find human bones?’
‘Yes, sometimes human bones.’
There is silence and then Nelson says, ‘Funny place for one of those henge things, isn’t it? Right out to sea.’
‘This wasn’t sea then. Landscape changes. Only ten thousand years ago this country was still linked to the continent. You could walk from here to Scandinavia.’
‘You’re joking!’
‘No. King’s Lynn was once a huge tidal lake. That’s what Lynn means. It’s the Celtic word for lake.’
Nelson turns to look sceptically at her, causing the car to swerve alarmingly. Ruth wonders if he suspects her of making the whole thing up.
‘So if this area wasn’t sea, what was it?’
‘Flat marshland. We think the henge was on the edge of a marsh.’
‘Still seems a funny place to build something like that.’
‘Marshland is very important in prehistory,’ explains Ruth. ‘It’s a kind of symbolic landscape. We think that it was important because it’s a link between the land and the sea, or between life and death.’
Nelson snorts. ‘Come again?’
‘Well, marsh isn’t dry land and it isn’t sea. It’s a sort of mixture of both. We know it was important to prehistoric man.’
‘How do we know?’
‘We’ve found objects left on the edge of marshes. Votive hoards.’
‘Votive?’
‘Offerings to the Gods, left at special or sacred places. And sometimes bodies. Have you heard of bog bodies? Lindow Man?’
‘Might have,’ says Nelson cautiously.
‘Bodies buried in peat are almost perfectly preserved, but some people think the bodies were buried in the bogs for a purpose. To appease the Gods.’
Nelson shoots her another look but says nothing. They are approaching the Saltmarsh now, driving up from the lower road towards the visitor car park....
The car park is empty apart from a solitary police car. The occupant gets out as they approach and stands there, looking cold and fed up.
‘Doctor Ruth Galloway,’ Nelson introduces briskly, ‘Detective Sergeant Clough.’
DS Clough nods glumly. Ruth gets the impression that hanging about on a windy marshland is not his favourite way of passing the time. Nelson, though, looks positively eager, jogging slightly on the spot like a racehorse in sight of the gallops. He leads the way along a gravel path marked ‘Visitor’s Trail’. They pass a wooden hide, built on stilts over the marsh. It is empty, apart from some crisp wrappers and an empty can of Coke lying on the surrounding platform.
Nelson, without stopping, points at the litter and barks, ‘Bag it.’ Ruth has to admire his thoroughness, if not his manners. It occurs to her that police work must be rather similar to archaeology. She, too, would bag anything found at a site, labelling it carefully to give it a context. She, too, would be prepared to search for days, weeks, in the hope of finding something significant. She, too, she realises with a sudden shiver, is primarily concerned with death.
Ruth is out of breath before they find the spot marked out with the blue and white police tape that reminds her of traffic accidents. Nelson is now some ten yards ahead, hands in pockets, head forward as if sniffing the air. Clough plods behind him, holding a plastic bag containing the rubbish from the hide.
Beyond the tape is a shallow hole, half-filled by muddy water. Ruth ducks under the tape and kneels down to look. Clearly visible in the rich mud are human bones.
‘How did you find this?’ she asks.
It is Clough who answers. ‘Member of the public, walking her dog. Animal actually had one of the bones in its mouth.’
‘Did you keep it? The bone, I mean.’
‘It’s at the station.’
Ruth takes a quick photo of the site and sketches a brief map in her notebook. This is the far west of the marsh; she has never dug here before. The beach, where the henge was found, is about two miles away to the east. Squatting down on the muddy soil, she begins laboriously bailing out the water, using a plastic beaker from her excavation kit. Nelson is almost hopping with impatience.
‘Can’t we help with that?’ he asks.
‘No,’ says Ruth shortly.
When the hole is almost free from water, Ruth’s heart starts to beat faster. Carefully she scoops out another beakerful of water and only then reaches into the mud and exposes something that is pressed flat against the dark soil.
‘Well?’ Nelson is leaning eagerly over her shoulder.
‘It’s a body,’ says Ruth hesitantly, ‘but ...’
Slowly she reaches for her trowel. She mustn’t rush things. She has seen entire excavations ruined because of one moment’s carelessness. So, with Nelson grinding his teeth beside her, she gently lifts away the sodden soil. A hand, slightly clenched, wearing a bracelet of what looks like grass, lies exposed in the trench.
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- ÉditeurMariner Books
- Date d'édition2010
- ISBN 10 0547386060
- ISBN 13 9780547386065
- ReliureBroché
- Numéro d'édition1
- Nombre de pages320
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