The Black Ascot Tapa dura -

Scotland Yard's Ian Rutledge seeks a cunning killer who has eluded Scotland Yard for ten years in this exciting mystery in the New York Times bestselling series.

After saving an ex-convict's life, Inspector Ian Rutledge receives an astonishing tip about a legendary crime from the grateful man. Implausible though it sounds, Rutledge must report this information to his superior at Scotland Yard.

Still, if true, the tip could lead to capturing Alan Barrington--the suspect in an appalling murder during Black Ascot, the famous 1910 royal horse races that honored the late King Edward VII. Barrington's disappearance before his trial had set off a manhunt that spanned the globe, baffling Scotland Yard and consuming all of Britain for nearly a decade. But why should Barrington return to England now? The Yard, eager to restore its reputation, smarting from accusations of incompetence, orders Rutledge to quietly investigate. To avoid attracting the press's attention, he must employ the cover of a routine review of a cold case.

Meticulously retracing the original inquiry, Rutledge begins to know Alan Barrington well, delving into his relationships and uncovering secrets that hadn't surfaced in 1910. As he draws closer--perhaps too close--to the man, the investigation is suddenly thrown into turmoil when Rutledge's sanity is questioned by a shocking turn of events, and his life is changed by his darkest fear--the exposure of his shell shock. The psychological anguish that has haunted him since the Battle of the Somme is regarded as shameful. Those who know him best, his sister, Frances, Melinda Crawford, and Dr. Fleming, stand by him even as he questions himself.

The Yard is already demanding his resignation, and Rutledge realizes that the only way to save his career, much less his honor, is to find Barrington. Against all odds, he must bring the Black Ascot killer to justice. But weeks of searching have already led nowhere. What if the tip was wrong, what if Barrington actually never returned to England at all . . . ?