Book Excerpts


Just Published: The Chameleon's Shadow
The convoy of armoured trucks, led by a Scimitar reconnaissance vehicle, had been visible for some time to the four Iraqis who crouched in what remained of the upper storey of an abandoned roadside building. The road – part of the highway that linked Basra to Baghdad – cut a straight path across the flat desert landscape, and the group’s elevated position and long-range binoculars had allowed them to track the convoy from the moment the lead vehicle breasted the distant horizon. continued

The Devil's Feather
Four months after President Kabbah announced an end to Sierra Leone¼s bloody civil war a spate of brutal killings in Freetown threatens to undermine the fragile peace.Police blame former rebel soldiers for the savage murders. Attacked at intervals since peace was declared in January, the five victims were found raped and hacked to death in their own homes. A government source said yesterday,OThe killing of these women bears the trademark ferocity of the rebels.Sierra Leone has just emerged from a decade of savage conflict, and police believe a group of dissidents is responsible.We call on everyone to put an end to bloodshed. continued

The Tinder Box
The elderly victims were brutally battered to death after Dorothy Jenkins interrupted a robbery on Saturday night. "Whoever killed them is a monster" said a neighbour. "Lavinia was a frail old lady with Alzheimer's who never hurt a soul." Police warned residents to remain calm after a crowd gathered outside the O'Riordan home when news of the arrest became public. continued

Disordered Minds
It wasn’t much of a park, barely half an acre of wilted grass off Colliton Way where local people walked their dogs in the mornings and evenings. During the day it was hardly frequented at all, except by truants who hung around the trees that lined the fences. The police rarely visited it and, anyway, there was a hundred yards of open space between the only entrance and the offenders. In the time it took two overweight coppers to lumber across, the teens were long gone, vaulting the low fences into the gardens that formed the rear perimeter. continued

Fox Evil
TEN-YEAR-OLD Wolfie pumped up his courage to confront his father. His mother had seen that others were leaving and she was frightened of attracting unwelcome attention. ‘If we stay too long,’ she told the child, wrapping her thin arms around his shoulder and keening against his cheek, ‘the do-gooders will come in to check for bruises, and when they find them they’ll take you away.’ continued

Acid Row
THE riot lost momentum as news of the butchery spread through the estate. The details were vague, no one knew how many had been killed or how, but castration, lynching and a machete attack were all mentioned. The streets began to empty rapidly. continued

The Shape of Snakes
I COULD never decide whether ‘mad Annie’ was murdered because she was mad or because she was black. We were living in south-west London at the time and I remember my shock when I came home from work one wet November evening to find her collapsed in the gutter outside our house. continued | top

The Breaker
THE WOMAN LAY on her back on the pebble foreshore at the foot of Houns-tout Cliff, staring at the cloudless sky above, her pale blonde hair drying into a frizz of tight curls in the hot sun. A smear of sand across her abdomen gave the impression of wispy clothing, but the brown circles of her nipples and the hair sprouting at her crotch told anyone who cared to look that she was naked. continued

The Echo
IT WAS THE smell that Mrs Powell noticed first. Slightly sweet. Slightly unpleasant. She sniffed it on the air one warm June evening as she parked her car in her garage, but she assumed it came from her neighbours' dustbin on the other side of the low wall that divided the properties, and did nothing about it. continued

The Dark Room
HOW DRAB REALITY was. Even the sun shining through her windows was less vivid than her dreams. Perhaps it had something to do with the bandage over her right eye, but she didn't think so. Consciousness itself was leaden and dull, and so restrictive that she felt only a terrible depression. continued | top

The Scold's Bridle
DR SARAH BLAKENEY stood beside the bath and wondered how death could ever be described as a victory. There was no triumph here, no lingering sense that Mathilda had abandoned her earthly shell for something better, no hint even that she had found peace. The dead, unlike the sleeping, offered no hope of a re-awakening. continued | top

The Sculptress
IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE to see her approach without a shudder of distaste. She was a grotesque parody of a woman, so fat that her feet and hands and head protruded ab5urdly from the huge slab of her body like tiny disproportionate afterthoughts. Dirty blonde hair clung damp and thin to her scalp, black patches of sweat spread beneath her armpits. Clearly, walking was painful. continued

The Ice House
'FRED PHILLIPS IS running.' Anne Cattrell's remark burst upon the silence of that August afternoon like a fart at a vicar's tea-party. Startled, her two companions looked up, Diana from her sketch-pad, Phoebe from her gardening book, their eyes watering at this abrupt transition from the printed page to brilliant sunlight. continued

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