Blackpool is enjoyed by many, but not by DI Christie, he thinks it is a nightmare, especially when a crime wave overwhelms the Police. A murder, the wounding of a policewoman, a car chase to Manchester and the shooting of a gorilla at the zoo all add to his problems, but are all these events link...
THE LAST BIG JOB is the fourth of Nick Oldham’s thrillers featuring Henry Christie An ex-KGB hit-man out to kill .. a caged lion with a taste for human flesh ... a careless drugs courier ... a vindictive ex-con ... a cop with ambition, whatever the cost ... a heist worth millions ... a terrifyin...
Ray Cragg is one of the countrys biggest gangsters, and the cops are desperate to catch him. When Marty, Craggs brother and sidekick, is found with his face blown off having been sent to whack a thieving former henchman, DCI Henry Christie is drawn into an underworld of ultra-organized crime, whi...
The latest Detective Inspector Christie thriller When the brutally murdered body of a Manchester drug dealer is found dumped just inside the Lancashire border, it turns out that the dead man had been a CID informant working for a small nucleus of corrupt detectives. Then a high-profile trial of a...
The plot is pedestrian. Other than a few colloquialisms thrown in and place names I would have a hard time even thinking that this book took place in England. I didn't look him up, is the writer even British? Writing is pedestrian. See how I've repeated that adjective from just a sentence or two...
A raging storm ... the end of a torrid affair ... a murderous convict on the loose ... a tower 'jumper' ... and in the middle of it all, Henry Christie...
Transferred from CID to uniform duties, Inspector Henry Christie is back at the sharp end of policing and he's not happy about it -- especially when a brutal murder, apparently the work of a serial killer, takes place on his patch . . .
He was back at work at 12.30 p.m., after having got home just before ten that morning and dropped like a block of lead into bed. He had been sensible enough to set his alarm, and as soon as he had done that and snuggled down into bed, alone, and assumed his number one sleeping position – on his r...
In spite of the reassurance that, for once, the forces of law and order were on his side, blood didn’t come easily from the stone that was William Patrick Costain. Eventually, Henry had had enough. Even getting Costain to tell him what clothes Rory had worn the previous evening had been hard work...
He wanted to sort out his return from sickness form first, which he did. He then checked the duty states, a huge sheet of paper compiled by hand by an inspector detailing every officer and their shifts in the valley for that day and the week ahead. He saw Jo was on an early shift which started at...
A quick win, one out of three, a tick in the box. The hard bit would be physically getting hold of the big bastard and getting him into a police cell. Not an encounter Henry relished, but something he would have to deal with. He was only just getting over the pounding he’d had on the back streets...
His head throbbed as a result of a combination of the wine intake, weeks of excess, tiredness and the stress he had been under thus far – but he knew he would in for much more pressure if Ingram took the bait. He dozed awhile in the soft-mattressed, King-size bed whilst a series of emotions vied ...
Savagely beaten in a frenzied attack – particularly about the head – half-strangled, as Henry had seen at the mortuary. The strangulation had not killed her, but the brain trauma from the assault had. The day before visiting the mortuary he had only half-perused the murder book, but had then read...
Looking across he could see a lot of chaotic activity. Two fire engines, two marked police cars and an ambulance, as well as other vehicles. Blue lights rotated a-plenty. Dozens of people, it seemed, scurried about and the reflective jackets of the uniformed services glistened against the blue li...
Up to that point in the day, neither detective had his PR on and Rik had only switched his on for . . . well, boredom, really. He was instantly transported into a foot chase in Blackpool town centre, consisting of various hurried and worried transmissions, others more measured and calming, and h...
He stood in the centre of the cell. The door opened and he glared at the gaoler, who noted the expression and hesitated slightly. ‘Señor,’ the gaoler said, tossing a bundle on to the floor. ‘Put these on.’ Flynn glanced down at what looked like a roll of rags, then devilishly back at the gaoler, ...
It passed through them and turned towards the village. Vincent closed the heavy door with a clunk and turned to the two men behind him in the hallway. Neither of these two men spoke. Breaking the silence was Vincent’s prerogative. He was the boss, almost. He hustled back to the lounge where he po...
He knew better than most that routine could be fatal in his line of work, because once the enemy, whoever they might be, whichever side of the fence they might be on – law or lawless – got to know where you were and what you might be doing at any point in the day, they could use that knowledge an...
He gave himself a minor shoulder massage, feeling stiff all over, exhausted all over, and wondered why he did this shitty job. He was standing on the street outside the block which contained Uren’s flat, There was some satisfaction gained by looking at the police and fire brigade activity which h...
Something he was proud of. School was a good place as far as Mark was concerned. A safe place – usually – somewhere he felt he belonged, somewhere to enjoy, make friends, be appreciated and work hard for the future he had mapped out in his head. He intended to stay in education for as long as pos...
It reminded Henry of something vaguely Roman. Although his mind was a mush, he forced himself to present the bright-eyed bunch with the developments that had taken place overnight. ‘… but despite all that, this investigation continues until we ascertain whether or not Darren Langmead is Eddie Dal...