By David Peace
The 1st installment of David Peace's electrifying crimson using Quartet vividly brings to lifestyles a gritty, harmful operating type urban laid low with a sequence of brutal murders. Nineteen Seventy-Four follows Eddie Dunford, the newly minted crime correspondent for the Yorkshire put up. His first tale is set Clare Kemplay, a tender woman lately discovered brutally murdered. whereas the police division and different crime newshounds on the newspaper think it really is an remoted incident, Eddie unearths a development among Clare's disappearance and people of alternative women from many years prior. regardless of his higher judgment, and opposed to the recommendation of others, he starts off to dig deep. What he unearths is a nightmare of corruption, violence, blackmail, and obsession that eventually results in a surprising, explosive end.
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The 1st installment of David Peace's electrifying crimson driving Quartet vividly brings to existence a gritty, harmful operating category urban suffering from a chain of brutal murders. Nineteen Seventy-Four follows Eddie Dunford, the newly minted crime correspondent for the Yorkshire publish. His first tale is ready Clare Kemplay, a tender woman lately came across brutally murdered.
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Extra info for Nineteen Seventy-Four: The Red Riding Quartet, Book One (Vintage Crime Black Lizard)
Oldman sighed and pushed one of the white cups across the desk towards me. ” I did as I was told and picked up the cup, drinking it down in one cold mouthful. “To be blunt son, I don’t like inexactitudes and I don’t like newspapers. You’ve got your job to do…” Edward Dunford, North of England Crime Correspondent, off the ropes with a second wind. ” Detective Chief Superintendent George Oldman smiled. I looked down into my empty teacup. ” I put the cup and saucer on the desk, folded up the typed list of names.
She opened her eyes and stared back at me. I tried to stand, to go over to her, but she stood up and left the room. I wanted to follow her, to say: I’m sorry, I’m sorry; I’m sorry that it had to happen today of all days. “We’ll be asking him for his autograph soon, won’t we,” laughed Aunty Madge, passing me a fresh cup. “He’ll always be Little Eddie to me,” said Aunt Edie from Altrincham. “Thanks,” I said. ” said Aunty Madge. “No,” I lied. ” said Aunt Edie, a cup of tea in one hand, my hand in the other.
Tip to tip, I lit another cigarette. Barry Cannon, skinny, single, and obsessed, papers every where, covered in figures. I crouched down beside his desk. Barry Cannon was chewing his pen. ” “Unsolved missing kids. One in Castleford and one in Roch dale? ” “Yeah. Rochdale I’d have to check, but the one in Castleford was 1969. Moon landings. ” Bells ringing. ” Barry took the end of the pen from his mouth, staring at me. ” “Cheers. ” “Mention it,” he winked. I stood up. ” Barry Cannon, not smiling, looking back down at the papers and the figures, chewing the end of his pen.