Chief Superintendent Dager had just finished briefing Bowson and two of his other subordinates on the outcome of the Home Secretary’s steering group when someone appeared at his cubicle door; Bowson saw his face fall [more…]
“Mistress Bowson? Forgive us our impatience, but we will shortly have to talk with the outside boys who returned yesterday. Please come and visit the Abbey when you are ready, perhaps share a meal with [more…]
“We need to get moving or we’ll lose the dark.” Art was twitchy, unlike him, the lure of home one yomp away was obviously unsettling him. The farm, their final staging ground before their run [more…]
The Home Secretary had them all in her office for nine o’clock: the Chief Constable of the West Midlands Constabulary, the Commissioner of the Met, various other senior officers including the head of the Counter-Terrorism [more…]
She was shrinking back, terrified. Not surprising thought Sam. Four masked men break into where she’s living, beat up the woman she’s living with, wave guns around, tie her and the other woman and man [more…]
It was no use; the waiting and the wondering were killing him. The police could be following him already, waiting to pick him up any minute. How much did they know? They didn’t seem to [more…]
Sally Bowson couldn’t settle that afternoon. Over a late lunch she had pressed both Martha and her husband about the priest-monk’s fables. They had smiled patiently, confirming them, insisting that those in Holy Orders would [more…]
‘Henry’ switched off the news feed on his laptop. That press release put out by the PM’s office! Whatever had possessed them? He must try to find out. It was crudely transparent, wildly unnecessary, surely? [more…]
Brother Peran, as he introduced himself, was unlike any pre-conception of a monk she had ever held. He had sat her down on a leather chair in his vestry while he boiled a kettle on [more…]
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