Ostara Publishing Colourfon

Ostara Publishing

Cambridge Crime Series

Crime fiction titles set in Cambridge or with a Cambridge theme. Many titles have been unavailable for years some early titles from the 1920s and 1930s have never previously been available in a paperback format.


The Punt Murder - Aceituna Griffin

‘The punt had been hired for the summer. The Atkins had got one with a frame work on which a cover could be fitted in case of rain. The tarpaulin had been removed from the main part of the boat, and lay in a heap in the stern’
Murder is Academic - Christine Poulson

I felt something sharp dig into the back of my neck. I sat up and felt the cushion. There was something inside, something familiar with a hard narrow ridge. I unzipped the cushion cover, pushed my hand inside and pulled out a handful of computer disks. I plunged my hand back in to make sure that I had got everything, and brought out a creased manila envelope, its sides bulging. I took it over to the table and tipped out the contents: twenty or so smaller, white envelopes addressed in a large, spiky hand to Dr Margaret Joplin at her college address. The top left-hand corner of each was marked Private and Confidential. I opened one. Inside was a single sheet of A4 paper. It was a letter dated 16 January and headed ‘The British Library’. ‘Darling, darling, darling,’ I read.
The May Week Murder - Douglas G Browne

Murder was bad enough, and a murder in Cambridge, of all places, and in May Week, too, was worse; but what really put the tin hat on it was the baronetcy and the Bath and the Carlton.
Trouble in College - F J Whaley

A group of undergraduates form a club for the purpose of committing crimes which cause no permanent harm to persons or property; but when an unexplained robbery is followed by a sudden death they feel they are getting more than they bargained for. You are invited to spend a week at St Chad’s, Cambridge, and meet an amusing yet typical group of dons and junior members who become involved in a succession of baffling mysteries.
Nights in White Satin - Michelle Spring

It\'s May Week in Cambridge, a time of wild excess following the end of exams. Private investigator Laura Principal is asked to provide security for the St John’s College annual May Ball, but for Laura, the May Ball turns sour when Katie Arkwright, a student guest from Anglia University, disappears. In her white satin dress, and with her halo of blonde curls, Katie looked angelic, but Laura discovers that her past was anything but. Could Katie\'s earlier experiences in Cambridge be relevant and what really happened at the Dorics private dinner?
Murder at Cambridge - Q Patrick

“Without another word I strode out, crossed the passage and banged noisily on Baumann’s sported oak. There was no sound from his room but a crack of light showed under the door. “I’ll get in if it’s the last thing I do,” I muttered, still haunted by that fleeting glimpse of the Profile. I opened the passage window and climbed onto the still dripping roof. Once outside, I walked along the narrow parapet that separated my window from Baumann’s. So far it was easy, but as I looked through into my neighbour’s lighted room, I almost lost my balance and toppled over backwards into the court four stories below. I had to look twice before I could believe that this was not all some hideous nightmare. I grasped at the window sash to steady myself”.
The Boat Race Murder - R E Swartwout

‘ There was a rush at the door, which gave way with a splintering of wood. Torn from its hinges, the door fell inwards, and the President, Savago, Owen Lloyd, and Tom Scoby were precipitated headlong into the bathroom.’
Darkness at Pemberley - T H White

\'The Master was in his study at the Lodge. He rose courteously from his writing-table as the Inspector entered. In appearance everything that a Master should be, patriarchal and benevolent, he constantly gave the impression that he had just laid aside a treatise on the Hebrew gospels. He shook hands with his well-known hospitality and feebly motioned the Inspector to a chair. “Well, Mr. Inspector,” he said, “this is a terrible shock to all of us. I hope you will be able to throw some light upon it.”\'
Deaths Bright Dart - V C Clinton-Baddeley

The quiet room seemed to explode. People started out of their seats. Exclamations, reserved and small in themselves, amalgamated like a whistle of steam. As there was nothing he could do. Davie stood watching the extraordinary picture
My Foe Outstretched Beneath The Tree - V C Clinton-Baddeley

‘The hall porter was not in a position to see. Nor was he likely to remember if anyone was absent in that direction longer than usual. Besides why would anyone be absent longer than usual?’
To Study a Long Silence - V C Clinton-Baddeley

‘When the lights went up again the stage was empty and, one by one, from the centre opening, beginning with Clown, the actors came forward to make their bow. One by one, till there were two lines on either side of the stage. Then they all looked back as though expecting somebody else. Nobody came.’
Only a Matter of Time - V C Clinton-Baddeley

“When something appalling happens to one at first one thinks about it all the time, and then gradually one sets it aside and only remembers it irregularly until at last one’s sorrow is reduced to a sort of exhibit, like something in a drawer, something one can fish out and look at and say, ‘Ah yes–I remember now–that happened to me.’ And the old indignation returns, but not to stay. The phrase ‘a skeleton in the cupboard’is right–not so much for the word skeleton as for the word cupboard. One takes one’s sorrow out from time to time and looks at it, and puts it back again. But one must put it back. That is essential. Thought breaks the heart.
No Case for the Police - V C Clinton-Baddeley

The shallow pool was full of those strange expected things which people love to dump in old quarries. A twisted bicycle wheel, the hood of a pram, a single boot, the spokes of an umbrella. And all those broken things had a history beginning with dignity. As much a history, thought Davie, as a man’s broken body lying beside them in the same murky water.’
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