Gibson Dickie Books

Amy is cursed by her psychotic impulse to count every good or bad thing that happens in her life. When she reaches her decisive bad count of ten, there's a real danger that her alter-ego, Jessica, will make someone suffer. The local police force is in a state of flux. Detective Sergeants Holmes and Chappell are thrown together to solve a murder. One inspirational, one meticulous, they are presented with a body more than a week old, limited and contradictory forensic evidence, and no obvious suspect. Having missed the critical first forty-eight hours of opportunity, the detectives have an uphill struggle if they are to solve a brutal and callous crime and achieve a successful arrest and conviction. The perpetrator has methodically cleansed the crime scene and dispassionately disposed of the evidence. Can she continue to avoid detection? Could she possibly strike again?

"Seven... Eight... Nine..."Whatever happens, don't let it get to ten. That could spell the end.The police are on to her, but she is covering her tracks well. Cleaning up each murder scene has become second nature, her clinical actions at odds with the passion and violence of her killings.Don't let me count to ten...Thankfully, the police are also preoccupied with a local gangster, The Mancunian, who runs drug and massage businesses, but she's still not safe. Especially when she meets one of The Mancunian's contacts, who upsets her a little too much.I told you not to let me count to...

The criminal underworld clashes head on with the forces of law and order in this warts and all account of greed, vice, drugs and violence. in a police safe house in peaceful North Wales, Boris the Orange, informant and one-time translator for a criminal prostitution ring, is in hiding with his detective handler. But then an intercepted phone call blows the lid off their secret location. Within hours, the safe house is raided, the detective murdered and the informant kidnapped. Soon afterwards, Boris's tortured corpse is found in a nearby canal, manacled at the neck. Within the force, the number of unlucky and mysterious deaths among the ranks of CID is growing steadily. Coincidence is no longer a credible reason. Could someone close to one of the officers be a suspect? Someone who, while on the surface appears calm and harmless, hides a dark, disturbed past...