When Augusta Peel finds a mysterious letter in a book she’s repairing, her enquiries take her to Baker Street. But events turn sinister when she learns the address is linked to a missing person.
Enlisting the help of Philip Fisher and his detective agency, Augusta attempts to solve a crime which has been hidden for ten years. Can the pair possibly match the skills of Baker Street’s most famous resident, Sherlock Holmes?
It’s not long before the body count rises. And when someone discovers her true identity, Augusta’s own secrets threaten to catch up with her.
Available as ebook and paperback.
Book 1: Death in Soho
Book 2: Murder in the Air
Book 3: The Bloomsbury Murder
Book 4: The Tower Bridge Murder
Book 5: Death in Westminster
Book 6: Murder on the Thames
Book 7: The Baker Street Murders
Book 8: Death in Kensington
Read an excerpt from The Baker Street Murders July 1911. A train was waiting in the station, hissing with steam. She ran across the footbridge as fast as she could, desperate to catch it. The engine gave a whistle as she reached the platform. She darted for the nearest carriage, pulled open the door, and leapt inside. Then she pulled the door shut with a resounding slam. ‘Good grief!’ said a lady sitting in the compartment. ‘You almost frightened me to death with that noise!’ She wore a large hat decorated with artificial flowers. ‘Sorry.’ She slumped into the seat opposite and recovered her breath. The train pulled out of the station and the lady in the hat peered at her. ‘Are you alright?’ ‘I’m fine.’ She pulled a handkerchief from her handbag and wiped her tear-stained face. ‘You don’t look alright.’ ‘I just got a little hot while running to catch the train.’ There were no further questions from the lady in the hat. Instead, she pulled some knitting from her bag and set to work on it. The regular clack of knitting needles and the rattle of the carriage combined into a comforting sound. She rested her head back and closed her eyes. But scenes she wanted to forget came back to her. They flashed in her mind like moving pictures in a cinema. Opening her eyes again, she caught the lady in the hat giving her a curious look. She glanced away and opened her handbag. Shoved into the inner pocket was the bundle of ten-shilling notes. She had never seen so much money before. It had to be more than she earned in a year. But she didn’t want the money. It didn’t make her feel better about anything. It only served to remind her what had happened. She closed her bag and looked out at north London passing by the window. If only she hadn’t listened to Alexander Miller.