By Linda Regan
It sort of feels like a simple case for newly promoted DCI Paul Banham and DI Alison Grainger: the murdered ladies all bore an uncanny resemblance to Marilyn Monroe and labored for a look-alike employer. however the enquiry quickly finds connections with a covert research into drug-running and people-trafficking. a brand new member of the staff, uniquely certified yet green, is positioned in a perilous situation-made more challenging whilst love rears its complex head! Can Banham and Grainger keep her from the villains-and from herself? ""Enjoyable 3rd police procedural to add Det. leader Insp. Paul Banham and Det. Insp. Alison Grainger. . . not just pleasant yet specially poignant."" Publishers Weekly ""Good motion, a qualified research, and a heartbreaking finishing make this united kingdom procedural sequence worthy a look."" Library magazine ""The plot is intensely advanced and good constructed, and the characters are superbly portrayed. this can be an altogether attention-grabbing and soaking up book."" - i admire a secret
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Additional info for Dead Like Her
Alison asked. The duty forensic medical examiner had to pronounce life extinct before the body could be moved. “First person I called,” Banham said. “But…” As senior investigating officer all this was up to her. Irritation welled in Alison’s chest; didn’t he trust her to do the job properly? No point raising it now; there was too much to be done. Penny Starr had a white breathing mask over her face, a stark contrast to her toffee-coloured skin. She stood with one foot in the water, comparing the gun with the bullet Crowther had found.
She’d only had the usual single shot of whisky before her performance, and it never affected her. What was happening? She looked out into the audience. Eddie Chang stood in his usual place, arms folded, diamond signet ring glistening on his little finger. He wore a made-to-measure purple suit with matching lining, with a lilac silk tie and a handkerchief in his top pocket. He was easy to spot: his hair was black on top and completely grey underneath, styled and lacquered so not one hair was out of place.
Bobby was nine, and normally a plucky little chap. Now he was sobbing into his pillow, and Banham felt helpless. Lottie was standing in the doorway. Banham gestured silently, asking her to leave them on their own. She left. “Mum’s gone, Bobby,” Banham said. “It’s just you and me now. What is it, mate? Are you missing your dad? ” The boy shook his head, but kept it buried in his pillow. “Well, something’s up. I can keep a secret. ” Silence. ” Another pause. Banham unfolded his arms and interlocked his fingers, then leaned his chin on his hand, a habit he had acquired interviewing witnesses.
Dead Like Her by Linda Regan