He wondered if the interview room, with all its long experience of a parade of criminals, from the most minor of shoplifters and graffiti artists, to some of the most notorious murderers the South-west had seen, could ever have known such an extraordinary series of ecstatic outpourings. Sarah sat...
Usually he’d see it as a gateway to the weekend and pop out for an evening beer. A drink or two to relax, ready for the welcome embrace of Friday. This particular Thursday, like Janus, he faced two ways. One instinct was vociferous: to head straight out and get drunk. Only...
When the insistent electronic bleeping of the detested alarm penetrated her consciousness at half past six on Saturday morning, she expected that familiar feeling. But it didn’t come. There was no rueing another missed chance for a Friday night out, no lamenting the loss of a day’s walking on the...
On the pavement, opposite the Islamic Centre, was a small demonstration by the British People’s Party. A dozen people, mostly older, but a couple of younger men and women too, stood, staring from behind a wall of placards. They were all alike, stamped with the party’s logo, and each read, Britain...
He was panting hard, his heart pounding, legs sinking into the sucking moss and mud. In his hand was the small envelope containing the answer to the riddle of the Death Pictures. He desperately wanted to stop, open it, look at it, but didn’t have time, had to keep running. Behind him chased the r...
The roads were noticeably quieter, no bored children staring from bus windows, and fewer commuters, faces resigned in misty car windscreens. Even the weather was playing along with the seasonal upturn in spirits, a high- pressure system, beloved of the Wessex Tonight weatherman, lingering over th...