Sacrifice. Paul Finch

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Название Sacrifice
Автор произведения Paul Finch
Жанр Приключения: прочее
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Издательство Приключения: прочее
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007492329



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       Copyright

      Published by Avon an imprint of

      HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

      1 London Bridge Street,

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2013

      Copyright © Paul Finch 2013

      Cover photographs © Arcangel & Roberto Pastrovicchio

      Cover design © Henry Steadman 2013

      Paul Finch asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      Source ISBN: 9780007492312

      Ebook Edition ISBN: 9780007492329

      Version: 2017-11-14

       Dedication

       For my lovely wife, Catherine, whose selfless and unswerving support has been the bedrock on which I’ve built my career

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Chapter 26

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Chapter 29

       Chapter 30

       Chapter 31

       Chapter 32

       Chapter 33

       Chapter 34

       Chapter 35

       Chapter 36

       Chapter 37

       Chapter 38

       Chapter 39

       Chapter 40

       Chapter 41

      Chapter 42

      Chapter 43

      Chapter 44

      Chapter 45

      Chapter 46

      Chapter 47

      Chapter 48

      Chapter 49

      Acknowledgements

       About the Author

       By the Same Author

       About the Publisher

       Chapter 1

      The whole of Holbeck should be bombed.

      That was Alan Ernshaw’s view. Okay, he was a relatively new police officer – just ten months in the job – so if anyone overheard him make such a politically incorrect statement and complained, he’d have an excuse. But the gaffers still wouldn’t be impressed. Holbeck, the old warehouse district located just south of Leeds city centre, might well consist mainly of buildings that were now empty shells, its Victorian terraced housing might now mostly be derelict, the few parts of it that were inhabited reduced to grotty concrete cul-de-sacs strewn with litter and covered in graffiti, but policemen didn’t take these sorts of things personally anymore. Or at least, they weren’t supposed to.

      Ernshaw yawned and scratched the dried razor-cut on his otherwise smoothly shaven jaw.

      Radio static crackled. ‘1762 from Three?

      Ernshaw yawned again. ‘Go ahead.’

      ‘What are you and Keith doing, over?

      ‘Well we’re not sitting down for a turkey dinner, put it that way.’

      ‘Join the club. Listen, if you’ve nothing else on, can you get over to Kemp’s Mill on Franklyn Road?

      Ernshaw, who was from Harrogate, some fifteen miles to the north, and still didn’t completely know his way around West Yorkshire’s sprawling capital city, glanced to his right, where PC Keith Rodwell slouched behind the steering wheel.

      Rodwell, a heavy-jowled veteran of twenty years,