The Yard
A novel
(Sprache: Englisch)
This is the debut novel in a series set in Victorian London. Scotland Yard's "Murder Squad" must join forces with a forensic anthropologist when one of their own is found murdered.
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This is the debut novel in a series set in Victorian London. Scotland Yard's "Murder Squad" must join forces with a forensic anthropologist when one of their own is found murdered.
Klappentext zu „The Yard “
As Jack the Ripper s reign of terror in London comes to an end, a new era of depravity sets the stage for the first gripping mystery featuring the detectives of Scotland Yard s Murder Squad.If Charles Dickens isn t somewhere clapping his hands for this one, Wilkie Collins surely is. The New York Times Book Review
Victorian London a violent cesspool of squalid sin. The twelve detectives of Scotland Yard s Murder Squad are expected to solve the thousands of crimes committed in the city each month. Formed after the Metropolitan Police s spectacular failure in capturing Jack the Ripper, they suffer the brunt of public contempt. But no one can anticipate the brutal murder of one of their own...
A Scotland Yard Inspector has been found stuffed in a black steamer trunk at Euston Square Station, his eyes and mouth sewn shut. When Walter Day, the squad s new hire, is assigned to the case, he finds a strange ally in Dr. Bernard Kingsley, the Yard s first forensic pathologist. Their grim conclusion: this was not just a random, bizarre murder but in all probability, the first of twelve.
The squad itself it being targeted and the devious killer shows no signs of stopping. But Inspector Day has one more surprise, something even more shocking than the crimes: the murderer s motive.
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PrologueLONDON, 1889.
Nobody noticed when Inspector Christian Little of Scotland Yard disappeared, and nobody was looking for him when he was found. A black steamer trunk appeared at Euston Square Station sometime during the night and remained unnoticed until early afternoon of the following day. The porter discovered it after the one o clock train had departed, and he opened the trunk when it proved too heavy for him to lift.
He immediately sent a boy to find the police.
Detective Inspector Walter Day was first at the scene, and he directed the many bobbies who arrived after him. He had come to London only the week before. This was his first crime scene and he was clearly nervous, but the blue-uniformed bobbies knew their job well and did not require much from him. They pushed back the commuters who had gathered round the trunk and began to scour the station for possible weapons and other clues.
An hour later, Dr Bernard Kingsley entered the station all in a rush and headed for the knot of people gathered on the gallery of the booking office. The trunk had been left against the railing overlooking the platform. Kingsley brushed past Inspector Day and knelt on the floor.
He opened his satchel and drew out a cloth tape measure, snaked it between his fingers, moving it up and across. The trunk was a standard size, two by three by three, glossy black with tin rivets along the seams. He closed the lid and brushed a finger across the top. It was clean; no dust.
With his magnifying glass in hand, he scuttled around the trunk, scrutinizing the corners for wear. He licked his finger and rubbed a seam along one side where black paint had been applied to cover a crack. He was aware of Day hovering over his shoulder and, less intrusive, the bobbies at the sta
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tion s entrance pushing back fresh onlookers who had arrived from the street outside. The lower classes were always out for a spectacle, while the better-off walked briskly past, ignoring the to-do.
His preliminary examination out of the way, Kingsley opened and shut the trunk s lid several times, listening to the hinges, then eased it back until the edge of the lid rested against the floor. He peered into the trunk for a long moment, ignoring the sickly sweet odor of death. The body inside was folded in on itself, knotted and mashed into the too-small space like so much laundry. One shoe was missing, and Kingsley presumed it was somewhere at the bottom of the trunk, under the body. The man s suit was gabardine, the hems lightly worn, dirt pressed into the creases. His arms and legs were broken and wrapped around one another.
Kingsley took a pair of tongs from his satchel and used them to move an arm out of the way so he could see the man s face. The skin was pearl grey and the eyes and mouth were sewn shut with heavy thread, the pattern of parallel stitches like train tracks across the man s lips. Kingsley looked up at Day. When he spoke, his voice was low and measured.
Have you identified him yet?
Day shook his head no.
It s one of you, Kingsley said.
One of me?
The body is that of a detective. This is Inspector Little.
Day backed away to the railing and held up his hands, warding off the unpleasant thought.
It can t be. I spoke with Little just last evening.
Kingsley shrugged.
It s not that I doubt you, Day said. But Inspector Little . . .
Come and see for yourself, Kingsley said.
Day stared at him.
I said come here. Please.
Of course.
Day approached the trunk and swallowed hard before looking down.
Breathe through your mouth, Mr Day. The odor isn t pleasant.
Day nodded, panting
tion s entrance pushing back fresh onlookers who had arrived from the street outside. The lower classes were always out for a spectacle, while the better-off walked briskly past, ignoring the to-do.
His preliminary examination out of the way, Kingsley opened and shut the trunk s lid several times, listening to the hinges, then eased it back until the edge of the lid rested against the floor. He peered into the trunk for a long moment, ignoring the sickly sweet odor of death. The body inside was folded in on itself, knotted and mashed into the too-small space like so much laundry. One shoe was missing, and Kingsley presumed it was somewhere at the bottom of the trunk, under the body. The man s suit was gabardine, the hems lightly worn, dirt pressed into the creases. His arms and legs were broken and wrapped around one another.
Kingsley took a pair of tongs from his satchel and used them to move an arm out of the way so he could see the man s face. The skin was pearl grey and the eyes and mouth were sewn shut with heavy thread, the pattern of parallel stitches like train tracks across the man s lips. Kingsley looked up at Day. When he spoke, his voice was low and measured.
Have you identified him yet?
Day shook his head no.
It s one of you, Kingsley said.
One of me?
The body is that of a detective. This is Inspector Little.
Day backed away to the railing and held up his hands, warding off the unpleasant thought.
It can t be. I spoke with Little just last evening.
Kingsley shrugged.
It s not that I doubt you, Day said. But Inspector Little . . .
Come and see for yourself, Kingsley said.
Day stared at him.
I said come here. Please.
Of course.
Day approached the trunk and swallowed hard before looking down.
Breathe through your mouth, Mr Day. The odor isn t pleasant.
Day nodded, panting
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Autoren-Porträt von Alex Grecian
Alex Grecian is the national bestselling author of the contemporary thriller The Saint of Wolves and Butchers, the novels of Scotland Yard s Murder Squad, including The Yard, The Black Country, The Devil's Workshop, The Harvest Man, and Lost and Gone Forever, as well as the critically acclaimed graphic novels Proof and Rasputin. Grecian lives in Kansas with his wife and son.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Alex Grecian
- 2013, 448 Seiten, Maße: 15,1 x 22,8 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Berkley Trade
- ISBN-10: 0425261271
- ISBN-13: 9780425261279
- Erscheinungsdatum: 15.03.2013
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Praise for The YardGrecian has a talent for capturing gory details...extremely vivid (and strangely moving)...Bounding from the workhouse to the lunatic asylum to the stinking streets, [Grecian] does outstanding descriptive work on the mad and the maimed, the diseased and the demented. If Charles Dickens isn t somewhere clapping his hands for this one, Wilkie Collins surely is. The New York Times Book Review
An absorbing launch pad for a new series built around the detectives who are finding their way in the new business of criminology. Fingerprinting, saving evidence, comparing notes from different crimes to see if there's a pattern, even something as simple as working in pairs are all novel, untested ideas tried out for the first time...[a] mix of historical facts and vivid fictional creations. It's great fun...Grecian's debut is the promising start of a new series and should be one of the most acclaimed and popular mysteries of the year. The Huffington Post
Alex Grecian's exuberantly grisly serial killer tale set in 1889 London picks up where the Ripper left off. The Guardian (UK)
Lusciously rich with detail, atmosphere, and history, and yet as fast paced as a locomotive, The Yard will keep you riveted from page one. It s truly a one or two sitting read. Jeffery Deaver, author of Carte Blanche and The Bone Collector
A brilliantly crafted debut novel with unforgettable characters. An utterly gripping tale perfectly evokes Victorian London and brings you right back to the depraved and traumatic days of Jack the Ripper. Lisa Lutz, author of The Spellman Files
Grecian successfully re-creates the dark atmosphere of late Victorian London. Kirkus Reviews
A winner, filled with Victorian arcane and eccentric characters and more humor than one expects from such a work. The Rap Sheet
Grecian powerfully evokes both the physical, smog-ridden atmosphere of London in 1889 and its emotional analogs of anxiety and depression. His
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infusion of actual history adds to this thriller s credibility and punch. A deeply satisfying reconstruction of post-Ripper London. Booklist
This excellent murder mystery debut introduces a fascinating cast of characters. Grecian displays a flair for language as well as creating vivid (and occasionally gruesome) depictions of places and events. Library Journal
All the gruesome sights, sounds, and smells of a depraved Victorian London are vividly depicted...not for the squeamish. The characterization is particularly adept, and there s even the occasional thought-provoking comment on industrialization and metropolitan Victorian society...Add to it all a few genuinely funny moments courtesy of absurdity and human nature, and you have The Yard: a gripping police procedural mystery and cracking good read. Recommended. Historical Novel Society
I enjoyed every minute of The Yard. If you like gritty crime stories with a psychological thriller edge then you re in for a treat. Popcorn Reads
This excellent murder mystery debut introduces a fascinating cast of characters. Grecian displays a flair for language as well as creating vivid (and occasionally gruesome) depictions of places and events. Library Journal
All the gruesome sights, sounds, and smells of a depraved Victorian London are vividly depicted...not for the squeamish. The characterization is particularly adept, and there s even the occasional thought-provoking comment on industrialization and metropolitan Victorian society...Add to it all a few genuinely funny moments courtesy of absurdity and human nature, and you have The Yard: a gripping police procedural mystery and cracking good read. Recommended. Historical Novel Society
I enjoyed every minute of The Yard. If you like gritty crime stories with a psychological thriller edge then you re in for a treat. Popcorn Reads
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