The Copenhagen Connection

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Overview

A strange twist of fate brings Elizabeth Jones face to face with her idol, the brilliant, eccentric historian Margaret Rosenberg, at the Copenhagen Airport. An even stranger accident makes Elizabeth the esteemed scholar's new private assistant. But luck can go from good to bad in an instant — and less than twenty-four hours later, the great lady is kidnapped by persons unknown. Suddenly desperate in a foreign land, Elizabeth must cast her lot with Rosenberg's handsome, insufferable son Christian in hopes of ...
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1982 Hardcover Like New Hardcover with Dust Jacket, clean, tight, unmarked, some light cover and edge wear otherwise a fine unread copy-ss All orders are shipped by kbooks every ... business day. Read more Show Less

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Overview

A strange twist of fate brings Elizabeth Jones face to face with her idol, the brilliant, eccentric historian Margaret Rosenberg, at the Copenhagen Airport. An even stranger accident makes Elizabeth the esteemed scholar's new private assistant. But luck can go from good to bad in an instant — and less than twenty-four hours later, the great lady is kidnapped by persons unknown. Suddenly desperate in a foreign land, Elizabeth must cast her lot with Rosenberg's handsome, insufferable son Christian in hopes of finding her vanished benefactor. On a trail that leads from modern wonders to ancient mystery, a determined young woman and an arrogant "prince" must uncover shocking secrets carefully guarded in the beautiful Danish city. And they must survive a mysterious affair that is turning darker and deadlier by the hour.

A clever new mystery from the bestselling author of The Last Camel Died at Noon and The Snake, the Crocodile and the Dog. Elizabeth Jones' much anticipated vacation to Denmark turns sour when her idol, a Nobel Prize-winning historian, vanishes. Reissue.

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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"Elizabeth Peter's many fans can count on her for romantic mysteries, full of action and suspense, and The Copenhagen Connection is no exception."—Publishers Weekly
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780312921057
  • Publisher: Congdon & Weed
  • Publication date: 3/1/1982
  • Pages: 256

Meet the Author

Elizabeth Peters

Barbara Mertz, who is Barbara Michaels and Elizabeth Peters, holds a Ph.D. in Egyptology from the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Her first published works were nonfiction books on Egypt. Her first novel, also her first Barbara Michaels novel, was The Master of Blacktower, a mystery. Barbara Michaels writes thriller and mysteries, many with supernatural elements, including The Grey Beginning and Here I Stay.

Elizabeth Peters writes primarily mystery/suspense, most notably the Amelia Peabody, Vicky Bliss, and Jacqueline Kirby titles. Books under the Peters name include: The Copenhagen Connection, The Jackal's Head, Die For Love, The Ape Who Guards the Balance, Trojan Gold, and Lord of the Silence.

Barbara Mertz has been President of the American Crime Writers League and a member of the Board of Governors of The American Research Center in Egypt. She has been named a Grandmaster by the Mystery Writers of America. She lives in Maryland.

Biography

Neither the Great Depression nor the lack of a public library in her small hometown of Canton, Illinois, deterred Barbara Mertz (the future Elizabeth Peters) from becoming an avid reader. Yet, when her family moved to a suburb of Chicago, she was elated to discover the riches contained in the town's local library and proceeded to devour every book she could get her hands on. She began writing in high school; but by that time she had already decided to become an archaeologist.

Mertz received a scholarship to the University of Chicago, which boasted a world-famous Egyptology department. Her mother, an eminently practical soul, encouraged her daughter to become a teacher; but after taking only two education courses, Mertz knew a career in the classroom was not for her. Determined to follow her dream, she moved over to the university's Oriental Institute, and received her Ph.D. in Egyptology at the age of 23.

The post-WWII job market wasn't kind to women in general, much less to women seeking careers in archaeology. Mertz married and began a family, but never lost sight of her life's ambition. While she was raising her two children, she decided to try her hand at writing. Her first few attempts were never published, but they did land her an agent; and in 1964 she published her first book, Temples, Tombs and Hieroglyphs: A Popular History of Ancient Egypt.

Mertz authored two additional works on archaeology before foraying into fiction in 1966. The Master of Blacktower is the first of several gothic suspense novels written under the pseudonym Barbara Michaels. (In her biography, she explains that the use of pseudonyms helps readers to distinguish various types of books written by a single author.) The supernatural elements in the thrillers penned under the Michaels name have kept readers on the edge of their seats for decades.

In the 1970s, Mertz began writing under her second, more famous pseudonym, Elizabeth Peters. As Peters, she has authored books in three different series. Beginning in 1972 with The Seventh Sinner (1972), the first series features a glamorous librarian-turned-romance novelist named Jacqueline Kirby (the final Jacqueline Kirby mystery, Naked Once More, won a coveted Agatha Award in 1989). The second series, starring American art historian Vicky Bliss, debuted in 1973 with Borrower of the Night (Vicky's last outing was 2008's Laughter of Dead Kings). Then, in 1975, Peters introduced her most famous protagonist, archeologist/sleuth Amelia Peabody, in a dandy adventure entitled Crocodile on the Sandbank.

From the first, readers loved Amelia, a plucky Victorian feminist who—together with her husband, the distinguished Egyptologist Radcliffe Emerston—has gone on to solve countless mysteries in the Middle East. Peabody fans received an extra treat in 2003 with Amelia Peabody's Egypt: A Compendium to Her Journals, a nonfiction stroll through ancient Egypt that included nearly 600 photographs and illustrations, plus expert academic articles.

In addition to her three series, Mertz has written several standalone suspense novels as Elizabeth Peters. She has this to say about her successful, prolific career: "The craft of writing delights me. It is impossible to attain perfection; there is always something more to be learned—figuring out new techniques of plotting or characterization, struggling with recalcitrant sentences until I force them to approximate my meaning. And nothing is ever wasted. Everything one sees and hears, everything one learns, can be used."

Good To Know

The pseudonym Elizabeth Peters is taken from her two children, Elizabeth and Peter. She uses three pseudonyms so readers can tell the difference between the three types of books she writes: nonfiction archaeology as Barbara Mertz, supernatural thrillers as Barbara Michaels and historical mysteries as Peters. For the record, Mertz has called the pseudonyms "a horrible nuisance."
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    1. Also Known As:
      Barbara Mertz, Barbara Michaels
    2. Hometown:
      A farm in rural Maryland
    1. Date of Birth:
      September 29, 1927
    2. Place of Birth:
      Canton, Illinois
    1. Date of Death:
      August 8, 2013

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

The plane lifted with a roar of jets, soaring into star-sprinkled blackness. The girl in seat 37-C sucked on the end of her ball-point pen and tried to think of a way to describe the aircrafts motion without using the words "silver" or "bird."

She wrote, "Seducer." Then she thought, "Oh, well, why not?" and added "silver" with a defiant carat.

Silver Seducer
Rape

The woman in the next seat, staring unashamedly, started in surprise. The girl didn't look like that kind of a girl. She was small and slender, with silvery fair hair that cupped her head in petal-like tendrils. Her horn-rimmed glasses were not fitted properly. They kept sliding down to the tip of her nose, and when she returned the pen to her mouth and gazed pensively over the rims of the glasses she looked no more than eighteen.

She was, in fact, twenty-six. The glasses were part of her business costume. She didn't really need them — sometimes they were an actual nuisance. But she hoped they made her look older and more efficient. Her name was Elizabeth Jones. She had been born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and was currently employed by Frenchton and Monk, Publishers, in their publicity department. This was her first trip abroad. She had been saving up for it for three years. In her desk drawer at home were the manuscripts of seventy-six poems. Six had been published in various obscure journals. Elizabeth had designs on Frenchton and Monk, but was waiting for the right moment. (This hope was, of course, naive and doomed to failure, but it shows what anice, innocent girl Elizabeth was, even after three years in Manhattan.)

She stared at the three words she had written. It was so hard to find new figures of speech. They had all been used. After a moment she went on.

Rape the virgin sky...

No. The sky could not be virgin. Hundreds of flights per week went out of LaGuardia, and it was only one of hundreds of airports. Quivering sky? Palpitant sky? Big blue sky...

A gush of unadulterated rapture filled her, starting in her toes and flowing upward to erupt in a broad smile. It was a big blue sky, and the plane was a silver bird — a phoenix, an eagle, a roc, carrying her to adventure and excitement. She had dreamed of this trip so long; why cultivate a false sophistication when there was nobody around to admire it?

Big silver bird,
Listen to the word,
Carry me away
To a brighter day
Where I'll sing and play
Hurray, hurray, hurray!

"Now that's real pretty," said her seatmate, in a flat Midwest twang. "Much nicer than all that stuff about — er —"

Elizabeth turned her head, her smile lingering. Her seatmate, mistaking the expression for one of affability, returned it with a flash of gold crowns. "Your first trip, honey?" she inquired.

"Oh, no," Elizabeth said promptly.

"Oh." Deprived of the pleasure of advising a novice, the older woman looked disappointed. "Well, it's a long ride, we may's well get acquainted. I'm Mrs. Hector Rawlings."

"Elizabeth Jones."

"Where you from?"

"New York."

"It's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't wanna live there. All that crime. Now Jenkinsville, Indiana — that's my hometown — we don't do things like they do in N'Yawk."

She went on to tell Elizabeth how they did things in Jenkinsville, Indiana. Elizabeth's smile felt as if it had been glued into position. The seat-belt sign had gone out by the time Mrs. Rawlings paused for breath, and Elizabeth took ruthless advantage.

"Excuse me. The seat-belt sign is off — I've got to — I want to —"

"It takes some people that way," said Mrs. Hector Rawlings.

Apparently it did. There was a wait.

Elizabeth didn't mind. Her chief aim was to escape Mrs. Rawlings, and once she was out of the sound of that nasal voice her excitement returned. Here she was, on her way at last. If only she could have gotten a window seat. For most of the trip there would be nothing visible outside except darkness, but she could have turned her back on her fellow passengers and reveled in the glorious daydreams that had been three years in the making.

The line moved forward. The man ahead of Elizabeth shot back his sleeve and consulted his watch — one of those elaborate affairs that measures every aspect of life that can be reduced to mathematical terms. Elizabeth smiled to herself. Some people couldn't stop rushing, even when there was nothing to rush toward.

Her eyes wandered on to the person who was now first in line, and her smile turned to a critical frown. Being only seven years away from her own teens, she had for that age group the intolerance characteristic of reformed alcoholics and former smokers toward those still suffering from the vice in question. Why, she wondered, did American teenagers have to look so messy? This girl's face was turned away, but the youthful roundness of her body betrayed her age. The said body was covered, but not entirely concealed, by a garment of Indian gauze printed in hideous shades of lilac, blue, and magenta, with touches of gold. It billowed madly down and out from her shoulders and was gathered in around her plump waist by a raveling piece of rope. The girl's most outstanding characteristic was her hair, an inchoate mass of tangled curls, whose color was...No. Some peculiarity of the cabin lights must be responsible. Green hair?

One of the lavatory doors opened, emitting a weary-looking woman carrying a fat, redfaced baby whose pursed lips made it look like W.C. Fields preparing to make a scathing comment about babies. The "teenager" made a smart left turn and disappeared into the lavatory.

Elizabeth's knees sagged. She caught the back...<!—CX001—>

The Copenhagen Connection. Copyright © by Elizabeth Peters. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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Customer Reviews

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Sort by: Showing 1 – 13 of 10 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 21, 2014

    Fun Mystery and Intrigue

    This story is still one my favorites. It's been over ten years since I last read this book - and I enjoyed the adventure all over again. Mrs Peters really knows how to bring her characters to life!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 27, 2012

    This author is fantastic!

    Never been disappointed yet by an Elizabeth Peters book.
    Fast paced, clever, and twisty plots.

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