The British Museum Murders (Vance and Shepherd Mysteries Book 9)

Unlock the Secrets of Power, Madness, and the Occult in The British Museum Murders

When the British Museum’s Enlightenment Hall becomes the scene of a chilling heist, the theft of occult artifacts sets off a chain of violence and arcane intrigue. The murder of a security guard is just the beginning. As a cryptic Brotherhood resurfaces, and whispers of black magic intensify, Detectives Vance and Shepherd are thrust into a case where ancient ritual collides with high-tech ambition.

Enter psychic investigator Amy Baxter, whose trance visions guide the police through a tangle of haunted relics, coded languages, and chilling séances. At the center: a thief named Ned, whose obsession with unlocking otherworldly power leads to a deadly pact with forces beyond comprehension. With every step deeper into the occult, more blood is spilled — and a chilling question remains: how far will someone go for forbidden knowledge?

This atmospheric thriller explores the darker side of ambition and belief, as ancient rites reawaken in the heart of modern London.

Dive into The British Museum Murders and join the race to stop a killer before the boundary between this world and the next collapses.

Excerpt from the book

The man wearing a black balaclava and dressed in dark casual clothing from head to foot wormed his way commando-style on his stomach across the exhibition hall floor, pushing a scrupulously waxed Samsonite case stealthily ahead of him. It slithered smoothly and silently, as in previous practice sessions at his mansion. He chose his route with care and due regard for the positioning of the CCTV cameras that surveyed the collection.

In the suffused night light of the gallery, he paused under the display cabinet—his objective—and stood there in artfully chosen crepe-soled shoes that barely made a sound as he stepped. The man was confident in his abilities and in his preparation for this heist. He had spent months studying every nook and cranny of Hall 1, and he knew the security operations down to the minute.

With a military-grade torch in hand, set to night vision, he cast an eerie green light over the glass casing containing the artefacts he had long coveted. The security personnel in the control room would not have seen him, and the man was about to proceed with the delicate part of the operation: the swift removal of the glass canopy and the transfer of the relics into his case.

Years of unfulfilled dreams had led him to this moment, and he was determined to succeed. He would soon possess the magical relics he had long desired, and then he would make his escape.

What could possibly go wrong?—the unforeseen, the mastermind’s nightmare—it could and, indeed, did occur. Juan Astellas, a security guard, unalerted by any suspicious sound, spontaneously decided to enter the hall, ironically dedicated to the Enlightenment, given the obscurity enshrouding it at 3 a.m.

The British Museum, that venerable Bloomsbury institution, had suffered 2,000 undetected thefts of precious artefacts in the last decade—a statistic that reassured the man in black. With each step, the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention as he strained to see through the darkness. His heart raced in anticipation, knowing that this was a high-risk mission and that any mistake could cost him everything.

Fear gripped him as he watched the shadowy figure move closer, knowing that it was his job to stay hidden and gather information. But with every passing moment, the thief’s mind raced with different scenarios, trying to find the perfect plan to escape undetected.

As Astellas crept closer, his flashlight illuminated the hall in blinding bursts, making it even harder for the thief to remain unnoticed. The sound of his own breathing filled the silence as he crouched behind a display cabinet, hoping beyond hope that he would not be discovered.

But then, suddenly, the watchman’s footsteps stopped just inches away from his hiding spot. Time seemed to stand still as the two men were locked in a tense standoff. Neither moved or made a sound, waiting for the other to make a move. It was a matter of seconds before their fates would be decided.