Pasture of the Vanished

Captain Exner is looking for six dead people and one murderer. People are disappearing near the reservoir. They have nothing in common. Not gender, age, or profession. They include cottage owners and long-term residents, and they disappear at irregular intervals. Are these really just coincidences? Or is there a key to this strange mystery? The detective novel *Pastvina zmizelých* (The Pasture of the Vanished) was first published in 1971 and has been reprinted many times since. And let's be straight, compared to other famous cases of the popular Captain Michal Exner, this story has a slightly longer exposition. We'll have to wait a while for the word murder, but for good reason. Near Štěpkovice, people are mysteriously disappearing without their bodies ever being found. Old, young, fat, thin, men, women, craftsmen, and intellectuals, locals and outsiders are all going missing. They have nothing in common and disappear whenever they please, regardless of the weather or the season. In fact, one of the theories spreading through the region from the pub window gives aliens the starring role... It's all just very strange, and the locals are starting to get scared. At that moment, into this picturesque landscape, currently defined by stories of murderous monsters, drives Captain Michal Exner in his meticulously maintained early 1940s Mercedes-Benz convertible. Although his visit has a completely different purpose – he plans to spend a few beautiful days with a beautiful woman in one of the cottages – he cannot refuse the challenge thrown down. He's not alone; officers Vlček and Beránek are by his side as always. Clever, action-oriented, sarcastic, witty, and hard-working. Otherwise, they wouldn't stand a chance next to the always well-dressed, bon-vivant intellectual with a law degree and a weakness for women. *The Pasture of the Vanished* is a thrilling detective story, and few will guess the murderer's name before the reveal. So, enjoy a dose of heart-safe adrenaline in charming retro packaging, whether in your car or by the fireside at home. The Mercedes convertible is already rounding the last bend, its black paint gleaming, its chrome flashing, and the driver in beige trousers, a suede jacket, and a crisp white shirt with an elegant tie is whistling quietly behind the wheel...