EBOOK
About
THE LOWERING SKY was black as a tax inspector's heart when Detective Chief Inspector Alan Banks pulled up outside 17 Oakley Crescent at eight o'clock one mid-November evening. An icy wind whipped up the leaves and set them skittering around his feet as he walked up the path to the glass-paneled door.
Detective Constable Susan Gay was waiting for him inside, and Peter Darby, the police photographer, was busy with his new video recorder. Between the glass coffee table and the brick fireplace lay the woman's body, blood matting the hair around her left temple. Banks put on his latex gloves, then bent and picked up the object beside her. The bronze plaque read, "Eastvale Golf Club, 1991 Tournament. Winner: David Fosse." There was blood on the base of the trophy. The man Banks assumed to be David Fosse sat on the sofa staring into space.
Detective Constable Susan Gay was waiting for him inside, and Peter Darby, the police photographer, was busy with his new video recorder. Between the glass coffee table and the brick fireplace lay the woman's body, blood matting the hair around her left temple. Banks put on his latex gloves, then bent and picked up the object beside her. The bronze plaque read, "Eastvale Golf Club, 1991 Tournament. Winner: David Fosse." There was blood on the base of the trophy. The man Banks assumed to be David Fosse sat on the sofa staring into space.