The Boneyard: A gripping serial killer crime thriller
Malcolm Kendwick is charming, handsome – and a suspected serial killer.When the partially clothed body of a woman is discovered on Dartmoor, all eyes are on one man.There wasn’t enough evidence to convict Kendwick of his suspected crimes in America, but DI Charlotte Savage is determined to bring him to justice. She’s certain the woman’s murder, so soon after Kendwick’s return to Devon, is no coincidence. But Savage hadn’t anticipated one thing: Kendwick has a perfect alibi.When more human remains are discovered at an isolated dumping ground, a full-scale murder investigation is launched. Savage realises it’s up to her to uncover the truth before the killer strikes again.She knows Kendwick is hiding something.Is there a limit to how far she’ll go to find out what?A page-turning, terrifying crime thriller with a gripping twist, perfect for fans of Mark Billingham and Tim Weaver.
Читать The Boneyard: A gripping serial killer crime thriller онлайн беплатно
Published by Avon
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2017
Copyright © Mark Sennen 2017
Mark Sennen asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of 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 author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007587902
Ebook Edition © June 2017 ISBN: 9780007587919
Version: 2018-06-21
She looks up at the trees. Huge, towering sequoias looming over her. Mist swirls in the canopy high above, a distant sky just visible through the dense tangle of leaves. Like ancient sentinels, the trees stand watching but taking no part in events. They’ve stood here for centuries, since long before the invaders with white skins came from the west and changed the continent forever. The oldest specimens were alive over two thousand years ago, when a man was nailed to two pieces of wood and left to die in order to save mere mortals. She reaches up, touches her neck and finds the slim silver chain. She runs her fingers down to the cross and then brings it to her mouth and kisses the figure of Jesus. He is her last hope.
She moves to one of the wider trunks, pushing herself up against the rough bark, sensing the patterns press through the thin material of her dress. She shivers, feeling vulnerable in the light summer frock because she’s nothing else on. He made her remove her panties and bra and her shoes too. Part of his perverted game.
She peeks round the side of the tree, hoping she’s lost him. For now, it looks as if she has. She shivers and then stares down at her feet where blood trickles from several gashes. There’d been rocks earlier and an area of scree leading down from the forestry track where he’d released her …
The trunk of the car had opened and she’d closed her eyes against the brightness.
‘Get out,’ he said. He held a pistol in his hand, the barrel pointing at her chest. ‘Get out and then I want you to take everything off but your dress. And when I say everything, I mean everything, your underwear included.’
She clambered over the lip of the trunk and stood in front of him. Pleaded. He shook his head and waved the gun.
‘Off or I’ll shoot you in the leg.’ For a moment he turned the gun away into the distance and then he fired, the retort echoing off a high bluff. ‘Your choice.’
She took her time to remove her bra from beneath the dress and then she slipped her underwear down. He gestured at her sandals.
‘Those too.’
She bent and removed her shoes and then stood before him.
‘Now, you’re going to run.’ Once again he waved the gun, this time in the direction of the treeline some thirty paces from the track. ‘I’ll give you a hundred seconds head start and then I’m coming to find you. And when I do, you’ll lie still and we’ll have some fun, right?’
‘You don’t have to do this. You don’t—’
‘Oh, but I do.’ The man smiled. ‘And I’m going to start counting now. If I was you, I wouldn’t waste a second. Not. A. Second. Of course, it’s your choice. One, two, three …’
Which was when she’d scrambled down the scree at the side of the track, cutting her feet on the sharp stones, before disappearing into the shadows beneath the tall trees. She’d half expected to hear a shot, feel a bullet implant itself between her shoulder blades. But she’d reached the treeline unharmed, stumbling into the quiet of the forest, the only sounds that of her breathing and her feet rustling in the dead wood and leaves as she scampered away from him as fast as she could.
