“Common wisdom remembered brain paste. The old ladies of Silvertown would tell you. The porters at Smithfield market would tell you. No doctor would tell you, but what do they know?.”
With an opening paragraph like that you know you’re not reading a cozy set in a picturesque country village with a sweet little old lady figuring out who left the letter opener in the vicar’s back.
Bartholamew Garrod was desperate. His brother, Raymond was getting worse and the prescription pills were doing no good. Desperate times call for desperate measures . And after all, Bartholamew is a butcher who has the skill and knowledge to acquire brain paste
I'm close to half way through and zipping through this book at a rate of knotts. You have to have a pretty strong stomach to read this one. It's pretty grim and there are themes that would put a goodly number of readers off. Dog fighting for one. The rest I can leave to your imagination.
Bartholomew Garrod was desperate. His brother, Raymond was getting worse and the prescription pills were doing no good. Desperate times called for desperate measures. And after all, Bartholomew was a butcher who had the skill and knowledge to acquire brain paste.
Detective Sergeant Alison Dexter had made her name with the Garrod case. Not that Alison wanted the fame. Raymond died in the raid to capture the brothers in 1995, Bartholomew escaped and hasn’t been found. He is around, though. Alison had to transfer to another city because she was receiving letters and little “momentos” from Batholomew. Now, seven years later, it appears Bartholomew is back and he is hell-bent on revenge – his pound of flesh,if you like – literally. It is in Alison’s interests to keep her public profile as low as possible.