By Mo Hayder
Now in Grove Press paperback for the 1st time, Birdman showcases Hayder at her spine-tingling most sensible as liked sequence personality Jack Caffery tracks down a terrifying serial killer.
In his first case as lead investigator with London’s crack homicide squad, Detective Inspector Jack Caffery is termed directly to examine the homicide of a tender lady whose physique has been stumbled on close to the Millennium Dome in Greenwich, south-east London. Brutalized, mutilated past reputation, the sufferer is quickly joined by way of 4 others found within the comparable area—all girl and all ritualistically murdered. And while the autopsy exam unearths a grotesque signature connecting the sufferers, Caffery realizes precisely what he’s dealing with—a risky serial killer.
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Extra resources for Birdman (Jack Caffery, Book 1)
They reached the upper battlements, and Tassin wondered what the madman intended to do now; fly? As he headed for the wall, she drew breath to shout at him to stop, but he took a running jump from the battlements, dragging her with him. He released her in mid-air, and she let out a wailing scream of pure terror. The cold black moat water hit her hard, punching what little air she had left from her lungs. She sank, struggling, the foul water rushing into her nose and mouth. A hand gripped her arm and pulled her to the surface, where she coughed and spluttered.
Glaring after him, she stamped her foot in fury. How dare he run off and leave her alone and unarmed? She had wanted him to simply blow them up, not run back to them first. She wondered if she should go after him, but he had moved swiftly. An eruption of screams made her jump and gasp, shivering in her wet clothes. Within a few moments Sabre materialised from the trees, startling her again. She glared at him. " His grey eyes stared over her shoulder. " Gritting her teeth, Tassin trudged through the trees once more, Sabre at her side.
Since Torrian was on her doorstep, they had been routed and probably slaughtered, her generals captured or dead. Tomorrow, Torrian would demand her surrender, but she would fight and die with her men, by her own hand if necessary. She was in a poor tactical position. Her castle's defences were good, but three armies would overwhelm them. Tassin wondered why Manutim had given the man in the dungeon to her. One warrior would do her no good; she needed several thousand, at least. She did not know what she had been expecting, something magical perhaps, but certainly more than one man.