Out of the Ashes: A DI Maya Rahman novel. Vicky Newham

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Название Out of the Ashes: A DI Maya Rahman novel
Автор произведения Vicky Newham
Жанр Полицейские детективы
Серия
Издательство Полицейские детективы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008240738



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       Maya, 1.30 p.m.

       Dan, 2.30 p.m.

       Dan, 3 p.m.

       Maya, 3.30 p.m.

       Maya, 4.30 p.m.

       Maya, 5.30 p.m.

       Dan, 6 p.m.

       Maya, 6.45 p.m.

       Maya, 7.30 p.m.

       Maya, 8.30 p.m.

       Dan, 9.30 p.m.

       Maya, 10 p.m.

       Maya, 10.45 p.m.

       11.30 p.m.

       Maya, 11.30 p.m.

       Maya, midnight

       SUNDAY

       Rosa, 7 a.m.

       Brick Lane, 1984 – Maya

       Maya, 8.30 a.m.

       9 a.m.

       Maya, 9.30 a.m.

       Maya, 11 a.m.

       Dan, 12.30 p.m.

       Maya, 12.30 p.m.

       Dan, 2.30 p.m.

       Maya, 5 p.m.

       Maya, 9 p.m.

       Feldman’s Newsagent’s, Brick Lane, 1989 – Maya

       MONDAY

       8 a.m.

       Maya, 8.30 a.m.

       Maya, 9 a.m.

       Dan, 10.30 a.m.

       Maya, 10.30 a.m.

       Dan, 11.15 a.m.

       Maya, 11.15 a.m.

       Maya, midday

       Maya, 1 p.m.

       Dan, 1.55 p.m.

       2 p.m.

       Maya, 3 p.m.

       Maya, 4 p.m.

       Maya, 6 p.m.

       Maya, 7 p.m.

       Maya, 8 p.m.

       Maya, 8.45 p.m.

       Maya, 10 p.m.

       Maya, 10.30 p.m.

       TUESDAY

       Dan, 1 a.m.

       Maya, 7.30 a.m.

       Maya, 9 a.m.

       Maya, 10.30 a.m.

       Maya, 11.30 a.m.

       Maya, 12.30 p.m.

       Maya, 2.30 p.m.

       Maya, 4 p.m.

       Maya, 5 p.m.

       WEDNESDAY

       Maya, 8 a.m.

       Maya, 9 a.m.

       Maya, 10 a.m.

       Acknowledgements

       About the Publisher

      Rosa Feldman stood at the door of her Brick Lane newsagent’s, staring out at the street she’d known since she was four. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was the shop opposite, run by the young Lithuanian couple. Since first thing this morning, the lights had been off and the shutters down. Initially, she was relieved that for once, the ugly neon sign, with its air of Margate or Blackpool, wasn’t flashing outside her bedroom window, but as the morning progressed, she felt increasingly uneasy.

      It