The Seven Dials Mystery

A healthy young man dies in his sleep, despite the ringing of eight separate alarm clocks... Gerry Wade had proved himself to be a champion sleeper; so the other house guests decided to play a practical joke on him. Eight alarm clocks were set to go off, one after the other, starting at 6.30 a.m. But when morning arrived, one clock was missing and the prank had backfired with tragic consequences. For Jimmy Thesiger in particular, the words 'Seven Dials' were to take on a new and chilling significance...

A lovely weekend in the country turns macabre when a houseguest is found dead from an overdose of sleeping medication. On the mantel, seven clocks are lined up, all ticking ominously.

A practical joke goes chillingly, murderously wrong in Queen of Mystery Agatha Christie’s classic detective story, The Seven Dials Mystery. Gerry Wade had proved himself to be a champion sleeper, so the other houseguests decided to play a practical joke on him. Eight alarm clocks were set to go off, one after the other, starting at 6:30 a.m. But when morning arrived, one clock was missing and the prank then backfired, with tragic consequences. For Jimmy Thesiger in particular, the words "Seven Dials" were to take on a new and chilling significance. . . .

Thomas Pitt, mainstay of Her Majesty’s Special Branch, is summoned to Connaught Square mansion, where the body of a junior diplomat lies huddled in a wheelbarrow. Nearby stands the tenant of the house, the beautiful, notorious Egyptian woman Ayesha Zakhari, who falls under the shadow of suspicion. Pitt’s orders are to protect—at all costs—the good name of the third person in the garden: senior cabinet minister Saville Ryerson. The distinguished public servant, whispered to be Ayesha’s lover, insists that she is as innocent as Pitt himself. Pitt’s journey to uncover the truth takes him from Egyptian cotton fields to the insidious London slum called Seven Dials—and ultimately to a packed London courtroom in which shocking secrets will at last be revealed.

In a suicide's room, seven clocks tick ominously, and the last words of a dying friend are "seven dials." The enigmatic sevens lead Jimmy Thesiger and his dashing cohort "Bundle" Brent to a Soho club. There they learn of the Seven Dials Society: seven masked conspirators who meet in a secret room to talk about stealing scientific secrets and hushing up murder.

A clever murder mystery featuring recurring character Superintendent Battle that pokes light-hearted fun at the international spy thriller genre Gerry Wade is famous for over-sleeping, but when a group of his fellow young guests at a country house weekend decide to play a prank on him by setting eight alarm clocks to go off in his room early one morning, they are rewarded with a nasty surprise. This time, poor Gerry is quite literally dead to the world. As the police descend upon Chimneys, the historic estate of Lord Caterham, the youthful friends—led by the bold and clever Lady Eileen “Bundle” Brent—take investigative matters into their own hands. As more victims turn up dead and clues seem to point to a wider plot, Bundle and her pals risk their lives to find the murderer before he kills again.

When Anthony Cade is asked by his friend, Jimmy McGrath, to deliver a manuscript and a bunch of letters to a woman, little does he know that he will be involved in a high level political intrigue involving murder, false identities, diplomatic intrigue and theft of precious jewellery… This thrilling novel figures the debut of Superintendent Battle and the plot was suggested to Christie by none other than the famous P. G. Wodehouse! Excerpt: "Castle's Select Tour, represented by seven depressed-looking females and three perspiring males, looked on with considerable interest. Evidently their Mr. Cade had met an old friend. They all admired Mr. Cade so much, his tall lean figure, his sun-tanned face, the light-hearted manner with which he settled disputes and cajoled them all into good temper. This friend of his now—surely rather a peculiar-looking man.About the same height as Mr. Cade, but thickset and not nearly so good-looking. The sort of man one read about in books, who probably kept a saloon..."