She woke up to the realisation that she was lying in an awkward heap on the mattress. Her eyes roamed the room like those of a lost little child. Where am I? she wondered. How did I get here? Then the masked figure loomed into view and she remembered and all the fear came rushing back.
'That's it,' said her captor, his voice tauntingly soft. 'Breathe, breathe.'
There were no dead young women.
There was no serial killer.
Or at least that's what they said.
A Sheffield prostitute has disappeared. With no family to fight for her, she's just the latest in a long line of missing girls stretching back three decades. Nobody cares about their names. Nobody remembers their faces. They are the unloved, the damaged, the forgotten, the damned...
Rumours of a serial killer have long circulated. But the police's top brass don't want to know about it. Talk of serial killers panics the public and embarrasses the department...
DI Reece Geary and DI Jim Monahan are two very different detectives, each driven by their own dangerous obsessions: Geary, in love with a prostitute, will to anything to get her off the streets, while Monahan is on the trail of a psychopath hiding behind a facade of respectability. Both will be drawn into a murky world of perversion, murder and corruption that reaches much deeper than either man could have imagined...
19.9 x 13 x 2.2cm