Praise for Robert Thorogood
âVery funny and dark with great pace. I love Robert Thorogoodâs writingâ
Peter James
âDeftly entertainingâ¦satisfyingly pushes all the requisite Agatha Christie-style buttonsâ
Barry Forshaw, The Independent
âA treatâ
Radio Times
âFans of the Agatha Christie-style BBC drama Death In Paradise will enjoy this book from the showâs creatorâ
Mail on Sunday
âThis brilliantly crafted, hugely enjoyable and suitably goosebump-inducing novel is an utter delight from start to finishâ
Heat
âA brilliant whodunnitâ
Woman
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First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017
Copyright © Robert Thorogood 2017
Robert Thorogood asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © July 2017 ISBN: 9781474050715
Version: 2018-07-23
Detective Inspector Richard Poole was in a bad mood.
This wasnât in fact all that unusual. Not to say that he was always in a bad mood, far from it. Sometimes, he simmered without quite boiling over. And at other times he felt too worn down by the whole shooting match of life to get a proper grump on. But today wasnât one of those days. Today he was in a fury so complete that he was in grave danger of going âthe full Rumpelstiltskinâ.
As was so often the case, the object of Richardâs ire was Police Officer Dwayne Myers.
âThen how about you try this one, Chief?â Dwayne said as he stood by his desk holding up a brightly-coloured Hawaiian shirt.
There was a stifled laugh from the direction of Camilleâs desk.
âWhatâs that, Camille?â Richard asked.
âNothing, sir,â Camille said in her most grown-up voice. âBut I think Dwayneâs right. That shirt would really suit you.â
âIt wouldnât,â Richard said.
âI think it would, sir.â
âIt wouldnât, Camille. I just said.â
âBut why not? Itâs fun.â
âFun?â Richard squeaked in a high falsetto that, frankly, surprised all of them. He coughed to put the gravel back into his voice. âYou call that aberration of a shirt âfunâ?â
âI reckon so,â Dwayne said. âAnd Camilleâs right. Youâd look great in it.â
âRight, thatâs it,â Richard announced, standing up from behind his desk. Having commanded his teamâs full attention, he shot the cuffs of his white shirt, did up the middle button on the jacket of his woollen suit and stepped out into the centre of the Police Station.
A trickle of sweat slipped down from Richardâs hairline, and he glanced at Police Officer Fidel Bestâs desk, to check that he had gone back to his work. As the youngest member of the team, Fidel generally stayed out of the skirmishes and outright civil war that could sometimes engulf the office. Richard was pleased to see that Fidel was looking at his monitor in a way that suggested that he was indeed keeping himself to himself.
Richard pulled a hankie from his jacket pocket, wiped the sweat from his face and turned to face Dwayne.
âIâm your commanding officer, and Iâm telling you to put thatâ¦garment down. Right. Now.â
âBut seriously, Chief,â Dwayne said. âIâm only trying to help. You have got to get into some lighter clothes. That woollen suit in this climate will be the death of you.â
Richard jutted out his jaw. He found his subordinatesâ desire to get him into more casual clothes deeply irritating. Didnât they appreciate just how very elegantly he was already dressed? And hadnât they any idea just how hard it was keeping his black brogues polished to a parade ground sheen when most of the island was covered in fine grade aggregate â or, as the tourist brochures were so intent on calling it, âsandâ?