Noir

'Officer Lacey?' The simple yes he had whispered into the telephone was full of hope. But the voice on the other end offered none.

Those that kill, believe dead men tell no tales. But the dead can speak. They find a way. With my help, I get the message to the living. The call...

Mole stands on the U-Bahn platform, his leg jiggling. The place reeks of sweat, damp woollen uniforms and thick coats pressed together, and the sour...

Brodie snatched Sharon’s phone from her hand. She’d been smiling and checking her message. He’d read them too. Before handing her back the blank...