Death Watch (Detective Shaw Mysteries) by Jim Kelly

By Jim Kelly

"Ever because the days of Agatha Christie, the nice divide within the British detective tale has been among plot and character...The novels of Jim Kelly are. . . a find." -The long island occasions ebook evaluate

Rookie detective Peter Shaw groups up together with his father's difficult ex-partner to enquire either a ugly sequence of present-day murders and a few unfinished enterprise from the prior, in Death Watch, the second one booklet within the Detective Shaw secret series.

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Extra resources for Death Watch (Detective Shaw Mysteries)

Sample text

Nothing of the nose left, or lips. ’ Valentine stood at the tape. ‘’Bout right. Foreman said the Judds were Irish – face like a front-row forward. ’ He picked at a bit of tobacco on his lip. ’ ‘Ten minutes,’ said Valentine. He’d be gone by then, he’d make sure of that. He’d kept his beer down so far, but watching the pathologist at work always brought on a sweeping nausea. It was something to do with the way she dealt with the corpse, like it wasn’t a human being there at all, but some interesting fossil.

His world, limitless on the beach, had been compacted, pressurized, to fit within this windowless box. The air had thickened, cooked, so that he felt sweat bristling on his face. A sparrow flew around, its wings clattering amongst the steel girders and pipes, prompting a snowfall of white dust. The conveyor belt shook and the motion accentuated the vibration of the limbs. One hand was gone, the arm ending in a twist of charred tendons like a severed power cable. But the rest of the body was intact, the mass reduced by the extreme heat of the furnace, so that it seemed elegantly elongated, thought Shaw, like a reclining statue by Giacometti.

We can’t get into the furnace yet to retrieve the blown bits of cranium, but one shard is here…’ It was on the belt, about six feet from the body, already in an evidence bag, its original location marked with a white circle and the letter ‘D’. Hadden tipped it slightly with a metal stylus, like a fragment of ancient pottery. ’ ‘Maybe. ’ Shaw brushed a finger along a gull’s feather he’d put in his pocket from the beach. ’ ‘Or one of the waste bags burst a week ago. Don’t assume it’s his blood. ’ The Ark was West Norfolk’s forensic lab, situated in an old Nonconformist chapel beside St James’s – the force HQ in Lynn.

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