Plato was at the concrete overpass known as Switchback Bridge. The bodies had been called in as dawn broke over the endless desert, ropes knotted beneath their armpits, tied to the guard rail and the dead tossed over the side. They both dangled there, the rope creaking as they swung back and fort...
She rose and found her way to the outdoor shower where she stayed under the cold water for longer than usual because she didn’t know when she would be able to do it again. The tattoo on her shoulder had healed nicely, the colours particularly vivid now that the inflammation had receded. She dress...
When he awoke, the sheets were a bunched-up pile on the floor, soaked through with sweat. His brain was fogged and unclear. He rose and went for his usual run, the best thing he knew to chase it away. The streets were quiet and the park was empty. He ran two laps, following the line of trees, pus...
The man standing in the doorway was old, but he did not look frail. He was several inches shorter than Milton, but he walked with an erect, proud posture, and there was iron in his eyes. Milton recognised him at once. “Mr. Milton,” he said, “I’m sorry to keep you. I’m Victor Blum.” Milton stood. ...
The Stanton kids and the FBI agent were in the one where he kept his old equipment. They had the spare nitromethane and fertiliser in there, too. The other barn was where Seth usually kept the hay bales, silage and feed, but they had emptied it out two months ago so that it could be used as the m...
The fog that hung motionless in the air turned the passers-by into ghosts at twenty yards’ distance; but in the little pools of light about the lamp posts he saw faces, darting eyes, suspicion and wariness. She led the way into a narrow alley that led off the street and into a narrow pub halfway ...
Edward and Joseph had ended up in a Costello establishment, a spieler in one of the back doubles near Holborn. A motley collection of gamblers were ranged around a bare wooden table: a couple of faces from the Costello organisation, local businessmen with too much money and too little sense. The ...
He wanted an hour’s worth of peace, a small interval where he could close his eyes and listen to the shares of the men and women who were just like him, with the same compulsions and problems, the same urge toward self-destruction. The meeting was in Fitzrovia, at the St Charles Borromeo Church o...
He was about to settle the bill when Anna arrived. Her eyes flashed with fury; with him, and, he guessed, with herself. He had played her very well yesterday, persuading her that he was warming to her to lower her guard just enough that he could put her out of the way for a few hours. He had brou...
Chattaway was chairing the editorial meeting. A bit of time when he wouldn’t be disturbed. He picked up the telephone and dialled the number for the C.R.O. at Scotland Yard. “This is Detective Constable Howarth, 930 F,” he said. “I want to check on a fellow, name of Jackie Field, F-I-E-L-D, aged...
Her mother had drilled many lessons into her during the year that they had spent together in Morocco, and this exhortation – that she must observe the surroundings before approaching a building containing material that could be compromising – was one that she particularly remembered. She watched ...
He had held the job for twenty years, watching all the communal spaces, making sure the fishermen and water sports enthusiasts observed the local regulations, keeping an eye on the wildlife. Peter loved his job; he was an outdoorsman at heart and there could not have been many places that were as...
He carried on, through the picturesque villages with the stone buildings, the undulating hills that climbed into the Vallo di Diano National Park and then, on the right, the endless blue of the Mediterranean. The bike throbbed powerfully between his legs and Milton opened the throttle all the way...
Charles Avenue. It was a grand place: big, lots of windows, good-sized grounds. Milton had explained that the property was connected to a man that he wanted to know more about. He said that this man, name of Jackson Dubois, had met with two hoods after they had tried to put the heat on Isadora Ba...
MIDDAY. Milton was in his fifth hour of lying in wait. He had watched the city come alive, watched the crowds file into the huge square half a mile away. Now, it was packed. Thousands of spectators, people who had been bussed into the capital from the surrounding towns and cities, many of them tr...