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Автор Robert Thorogood

Praise for Robert Thorogood

‘Very funny and dark with great pace. I love Robert Thorogood’s writing’

Peter James

‘Deftly entertaining…satisfyingly pushes all the requisite Agatha Christie-style buttons’

Barry Forshaw, The Independent

‘A treat’

Radio Times

‘Fans of the Agatha Christie-style BBC drama Death In Paradise will enjoy this book from the show’s creator’

Mail on Sunday

‘This brilliantly crafted, hugely enjoyable and suitably goosebump-inducing novel is an utter delight from start to finish’

Heat

‘A brilliant whodunnit’

Woman

ROBERT THOROGOOD is the creator of the hit BBC One TV series Death In Paradise.

He was born in Colchester, Essex, in 1972. When he was 10 years old, he read his first proper novel – Agatha Christie’s Peril at End House – and he’s been in love with the genre ever since.

He now lives in Marlow in Buckinghamshire with his wife and children.

For Penny and Jack

Contents

Cover

Praise

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

Detective Inspector Richard Poole was in a bad mood.

This wasn’t in fact all that unusual. Not to say that he was always in a bad mood, far from it. Sometimes, he simmered without quite boiling over. And at other times he felt too worn down by the whole shooting match of life to get a proper grump on. But today wasn’t one of those days. Today he was in a fury so complete that he was in grave danger of going ‘the full Rumpelstiltskin’.

As was so often the case, the object of Richard’s ire was Police Officer Dwayne Myers.

‘Then how about you try this one, Chief?’ Dwayne said as he stood by his desk holding up a brightly-coloured Hawaiian shirt.

There was a stifled laugh from the direction of Camille’s desk.

‘What’s that, Camille?’ Richard asked.

‘Nothing, sir,’ Camille said in her most grown-up voice. ‘But I think Dwayne’s right.

That shirt would really suit you. ’

‘It wouldn’t,’ Richard said.

‘I think it would, sir. ’

‘It wouldn’t, Camille. I just said. ’

‘But why not? It’s fun. ’

Fun?’ Richard squeaked in a high falsetto that, frankly, surprised all of them. He coughed to put the gravel back into his voice. ‘You call that aberration of a shirt “fun”?’

‘I reckon so,’ Dwayne said. ‘And Camille’s right. You’d look great in it. ’

‘Right, that’s it,’ Richard announced, standing up from behind his desk. Having commanded his team’s full attention, he shot the cuffs of his white shirt, did up the middle button on the jacket of his woollen suit and stepped out into the centre of the Police Station.

A trickle of sweat slipped down from Richard’s hairline, and he glanced at Police Officer Fidel Best’s desk, to check that he had gone back to his work. As the youngest member of the team, Fidel generally stayed out of the skirmishes and outright civil war that could sometimes engulf the office. Richard was pleased to see that Fidel was looking at his monitor in a way that suggested that he was indeed keeping himself to himself.