Mrs. Pollifax Unveiled

by Dorothy Gilman Narrated by Barbara Rosenblat

Overview

The 14th in the Mrs. Pollifax series, Mrs. Pollifax Unveiled joins its predecessors as a delightful source of entertainment and suspense. After all her harrowing adventures in various parts of the world, America's most endearing and unlikely CIA agent is bored with her gardening. When headquarters calls with a deadly mission, she's ready with passport in hand. After single-handedly thwarting hijackers on a flight to the Middle East, a young American woman has become an instant celebrity. Following television interviews at the airport in Damascus, she disappears. Was she kidnapped by the terrorists, or is she just hiding? Posing as the girl's aunt, Mrs. P. searches for her "niece" and uncovers a sinister plot that could send shock waves around the world. Part of the anticipation of hearing about Mrs. Pollifax's latest adventures is knowing that narrator Barbara Rosenblat will be part of the package. Both popular in their own right, they make an irresistible team.

Editorial Reviews

Mrs. Pollifax will go to any lengths to solve a problem, even down dark Damascus cul-de-sacs. In this quickly twisting mystery, the former CIA agent surprises even herself as she attempts to track down a young American woman in Syria.

Library Journal

Mrs. Emily Reed-Pollifax, grandmother, flower-arranger, and part-time CIA agent, is back in the Middle East. A young American has disappeared in Syria, and she has been sent to find her. After all, shortly before she vanished, Amanda Pym saved a whole airline full of people from hijackers. Accompanied by her favorite colleague, John Sebastian Farrell, Mrs. Pollifax visits an archaeological dig, explores the desert, and finds her woman. Gilman has been writing this series for more than 30 years, and Mrs. Pollifax is not quite the same, sweet old lady she once was. Who can resist a woman who alternates garden club meetings with karate lessons, makes lifelong friends wherever she goes, and invariably is able to transfer the contents of a large purse into the pockets or sleeves of any ethnic costume? Overall, this is a very relaxed, cohesive reading by Sharon Williams, only disrupted by the slightly jarring incidental music that begins and ends each side. The "cozy" spy thriller may be a nearly dead subgenre, but Mrs. Pollifax's circulation figures remain healthy. Recommended for all moderate to large popular fiction collections.--I. Pour-El, Des Moines Area Community Coll. Lib., Boone, IA Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940173478481
Publisher:	Recorded Books, LLC
Publication date:	05/17/2000
Series:	Mrs. Pollifax , #14
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

Mrs. Pollifax was feeling bored
and rather left out of life. Cyrus had re-cently
accepted an invitation to teach
law three days a week at the university; he was
hugely enjoying it.

"Damned good to feel so useful again," he'd
admitted, and she was glad for him.

She, however, was not feeling particularly
useful. She reminded herself that she was still
growing prizewinning geraniums, was in excel-lent
health, hoped soon to earn her black belt in
karate, and remained a faithful member of the
Save Our Environment club. But . . . How spoiled
I am, she thought. For a woman of what was delicately
referred to as "of a certain age" she ought
to feel fortunate indeed, and yet . . . She realized
that she was absentmindedly scratching her left
arm from which, not long ago, a bullet had been
removed in a Bedouin tent by a man named
Bushaq, and she concluded that what she was experiencing
was letdown.

The price one pays, she thought sadly, for venturing
out into dangerous worlds for Carstairs
and the CIA, only to return to errands at the grocery
store and bank, cooking and cleaning, mulch-ing
her garden for the winter, and pampering her
geraniums.

Across the breakfast table from her, almost
hidden behind his newspaper, Cyrus glanced up
and saw the gesture toward her arm. "Still
hurting?" he asked. "Do wish you'd let Dr. Orton
have a look at that." He hesitated, and then,
"Damn good to have you safe at home again,
Em," and as he said this the telephone rang. He
put down his cup of coffee, reached across his
briefcase andnewspaper, and when he answered
it she saw his face change. Handing the phone to
her he said, "It's Bishop."

"Oh," she said, startled, and concealing her
reaction she kept her voice casual. "Bishop, how
good to hear from you, are you well?"

Bishop, however, was not interested in polite
conversation. He said bluntly, "Have any important
plans for this day?"

"No," she said, honestly enough.

"A car will pick you up in forty minutes at
your house," he said. "Carstairs wants to talk
with you. Oh, and you might bring your pass-port
with you, just in case."

And he hung up.

"Emily," said her husband warningly.

"He just wants to talk with me," she told him.

"Hard to believe," growled Cyrus. "You
haven't even been home long enough for that
arm to heal."

"It's healed," she told him. "It just itches."

He gave her a rueful smile. "I know, I know—I
promised never to interfere, but still I don't like
the sound of that call." With a glance at the clock
on the wall he added, "And now I've got to go or
I'll miss my first class, but Em—nothing dangerous,
promise?"

He knew, of course, that anything Carstairs
might have in mind could be dangerous; after all,
she and Cyrus had met in Zambia under very
dangerous circumstances and they had survived
by luck and ingenuity. Cyrus had gone with her
to Thailand, too, where he'd been snatched away
from her by bandits, but she did not think it wise
to remind him of this, nor to mention that Bishop
had asked her to bring her passport. Instead she
said tactfully, with a bright smile, "Barbecued
chicken for dinner tonight," and when he had
gone she hurried upstairs to dress for her trip to
CIA headquarters.

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