The Doll's House - [3]
The old team was breaking up. Tony Bridges had left the Force for good, DC Grounds was due to retire shortly and Charlie was on maternity leave, a few weeks shy of giving birth. Lloyd was the new DS, they had two new DCs – the Major Incident Team had a very different feel now. If she was honest, it made Helen uncomfortable. She hadn’t got a handle on the new personalities, was yet to establish an easy rhythm with the freshly assembled team. But the only way to do that was to go through fire together.
‘What have you got for me, Lloyd?’
They were already making their way under the police cordon and across the sand towards the trench.
‘Young female. Buried about three feet down. Found by a couple of kids an hour or so ago. They’re over there with their parents.’
Lloyd indicated the family of four, huddled in police blankets, giving their statements to a uniformed officer.
‘Any connection to the victim?’
‘No, they come here most weekends. Usually have the place to themselves.’
‘Anybody live near here?’
‘No. The nearest houses are three miles away.’
‘Does it pick up anything from the lighthouse at night?’
‘It’s too far round.’
‘Making this a pretty good deposition site.’
They walked in silence to the lip of the trench. Meredith Walker, Southampton Central’s Chief Forensics Officer, was at the bottom, carefully excavating the body. Helen took in the scene, the white-suited Forensics Officer crouching sinisterly over a woman who looked completely at peace, despite the wet sand that stuck to her hair, eyes and lips.
The woman’s face, shoulders, upper torso and arms had been revealed. Her limbs were painfully thin and the skin very pale, which made her single tattoo stand out even more. Despite the partial decomposition, she was a strangely beautiful sight, her black hair still framing those vivid blue eyes. It reminded Helen of the Grimms’ fairy tales, of gothic damsels awaiting love’s true kiss.
‘How long has she been down there?’ Helen asked.
‘Hard to say,’ replied Meredith. ‘The sand at this depth is cold and wet – ideal conditions to preserve the body. There are no animals or insects to get to her here either. But it’s not recent. Given the levels of decomposition, I would say two, three years – Jim Grieves will be able tell you more once he gets her back to the mortuary.’
‘I’ll need the Crime Scene Photos tonight if possible,’ Helen replied.
‘Will do. Though I’m not sure how much help they’ll be. Whoever did this has been careful. Her earrings and nose studs have been removed. The fingernails have been cut. And you can guess what time and tide have done to any residual forensic evidence.’
Helen thanked Meredith and walked down to the water’s edge to get a better view of the scene. Already her nerves were jangling. This was a careful, premeditated disposal by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. This wasn’t the work of an amateur. Which strongly suggested to Helen that their killer had done this before.
5
‘Stay away. Don’t come near me.’
Ruby was backed into a corner of the room. She held out her arms to ward off attack, but knew immediately that it was an empty gesture.
Click. A powerful torch beam fired straight at her. Her heart raced as she watched the torch beam run the rule over her, creeping down from her face, over her chest to her thighs and then her feet. Despite her determination to appear strong, her composure abandoned her now and she started to sob.
‘Don’t be frightened.’
His voice was measured and steady. She didn’t recognize it, though the Southampton accent came through clearly.
‘Please let me go,’ she gushed through tears. ‘I won’t tell anyone. I -’
‘Are you cold?’
‘Please. I just want to go home.’
‘If you’re cold, I can get you an extra blanket. I want you to be comfortable.’
His calm pragmatism was crushing. He was speaking as if nothing unusual had happened. As if this were normal.
‘Are you hungry?’
‘I want to go home, you motherfucker. Stop… stop talking to me. Just… take me home. The police will be looking for me -’
‘Nobody’s looking for you, Ruby.’
‘My parents are expecting me. My mum’s coming round today -’
‘Your parents don’t love you.’
‘What?’
‘They never have.’
‘Why are you say-’
‘I’ve seen the way they treat you. What they say about you when you’re not around. They want rid of you.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘Really? You walked out on them, remember. So why should they come looking for you?’
The horrible logic of it rendered Ruby speechless.
‘No… no. You’re wrong. You’re lying. If you want money, they’ve got -’
‘I’m just telling you the truth. They don’t want you. But I do.’
Ruby sobbed louder. This couldn’t be happening.
‘I want to go home,’ she whimpered.
The torch beam moved still closer. He was beside her now. Ruby hung her head, clamping her eyes shut. She could feel his breath on her. She flinched when she felt him stroke her hair.
‘That’s good to hear, my love.’
His voice was a warm whisper.
‘Because this is your home now.’
6
Alison Sprackling was furious with her daughter. They had made an arrangement to meet at eleven – it was now nearly one p.m. Where the hell was she?
Детектив-инспектор Хелен Грейс расследует серию преступлений, в каждом из которых похищены два человека. Похититель ставит свои жертвы перед страшным выбором – убить другого или умереть самому. Как долго продолжится эта смертельная игра, зависит только от Хелен. Ведь этими похищениями маньяк шлет послание лично ей.
The international bestseller that "grabs the reader by the throat" (Crime Time).First in the new series featuring Detective Inspector Helen Grace.Two people are abducted, imprisoned, and left with a gun. As hunger and thirst set in, only one walks away alive.It's a game more twisted than any Detective Inspector Helen Grace has ever seen. If she hadn't spoken with the shattered survivors herself, she almost wouldn't believe them.Helen is familiar with the dark sides of human nature, including her own, but this case-with its seemingly random victims-has her baffled.
Detective Helen Grace faces her own dark compulsions in the new thriller from the international best-selling author of Pop Goes the Weasel and Eeny Meeny.In a world where disguises and discretion are the norm, and where one admission could unravel a life, a killer has struck, and a man is dead. No one wants to come forward to say what they saw or what they know – including the woman heading the investigation: Detective Helen Grace.Helen knew the victim. And the victim knew her – better than anyone else.
THE FOURTH DI HELEN GRACE THRILLER BY BESTSELLING AUTHOR M J ARLIDGE 'Helen Grace is one of the greatest heroes to come along in years' JEFFERY DEAVER In the dead of night, three raging fires light up the city skies. It's more than a tragic coincidence. For DI Helen Grace the flames announce the arrival of an evil she has never encountered before. Because this is no firestarter seeking sick thrills, but something more chilling: a series of careful, calculating acts of murder. But why were the victims chosen? What's driving the killer? And who will be next? A powder keg of fear, suspicion and dread has been laid.
From the international bestselling author of Eeny Meeny comes the second thriller in the truly excellent series * featuring Detective Helen Grace."A man s body is found in an empty house.A gruesome memento of his murder is sent to his wife and children."He is the first victim, and Detective Helen Grace knows he will not be the last. But why would a happily married man be this far from home in the dead of night?The media call it Jack the Ripper in reverse: a serial killer preying on family men who lead hidden double lives.Helen can sense the fury behind the murders.
Выйдя на улицу, чтобы немного прийти в себя после бурного выпускного вечера, шестнадцатилетняя Мария Вестон исчезает навсегда. Девушку считают погибшей, однако спустя двадцать пять лет одноклассники начинают получать от нее письма с угрозами. Неужели она жива и долгие годы скрывалась, но зачем? Больше остальных напугана успешная предпринимательница Луиза Уильямс, которая уверена, что страшная судьба Марии целиком и полностью лежит на ее совести. Роман Лоры Маршалл — это будоражащее кровь погружение в бездну страхов, сомнений, амбиций и не изжитых комплексов.
Кен Фоллетт — один из самых знаменитых писателей Великобритании, мастер детективного, остросюжетного и исторического романа. Лауреат премии Эдгара По. Его романы переведены на все ведущие языки мира и изданы в 27 странах. Содержание: Скандал с Модильяни Бумажные деньги Трое Ключ к Ребекке Человек из Санкт-Петербурга На крыльях орла В логове львов Ночь над водой.
В самой середине 90-тых годов прошлого века жизнь приобрела странные очертания, произошел транзит эпох, а обитатели осваивали изменения с разной степенью успешности. Катя Малышева устраивалась в транзитной стадии тремя разными способами. Во-первых, продолжала служить в издательстве «Факел», хотя ни работы, ни денег там почти не наблюдалось. Во-вторых редактировала не совсем художественную беллетристику в частных конторах, там и то и другое бытовало необходимом для жизни количестве. А в третьих, Катя стала компаньоном старому другу Валентину в агентстве «Аргус».
В самом начале нового века, а может быть и в конце старого (на самом деле все подряд путались в сроках наступления миллениума), Катя Малышева получила от бывшего компаньона Валентина поручение, точнее он попросил оказать ему платную любезность, а именно познакомиться с заслуженной старой дамой, на которую никто в агентстве «Аргус» не мог угодить. Катя без особой охоты взялась за дело, однако очень скоро оно стало усложняться. Водоворот событий увлек Катю за собой, а Валентину пришлось её искать в печальных сомнениях жива она или уже нет…
Наталия Новохатская Предлагает серию развернутых описаний, сначала советской (немного), затем дальнейшей российской жизни за последние 20 с лишком лет, с заметным уклоном в криминально-приключенческую сторону. Главная героиня, она же основной рассказчик — детектив-самоучка, некая Катя Малышева. Серия предназначена для более или менее просвещенной аудитории со здоровой психикой и почти не содержит описаний кровавых убийств или прочих резких отклонений от здорового образа жизни. В читателе предполагается чувство юмора, хотя бы в малой степени, допускающей, что можно смеяться над собой.
