Police inspector Peter Pascoe is looking for a place to bury his grandmum’s ashes, when he stumbles upon a startling family secret—an ancestor unjustly executed in wartime. So preoccupied is Pascoe that he hardly notices the uproar in his own department. Eight female animal rights protesters have unearthed human bones on the grounds of a drug company’s research headquarters.
Yorkshire police superintendent Andrew Dalziel, a man of prodigious appetite, falls quickly for one of the activists: a generously endowed woman who calls herself Cap Marvell. While Dalziel begins to dally, the investigation into the unidentified corpse collides with the mystery of Pascoe’s disgraced great-grandfather and a high-stakes pharmaceutical research project. Suddenly the Yorkshire woods are giving up their darkest secrets: of animal instincts, human passions, and a conspiracy that has killed once, and will do so again...‘Hill’s wit is the constant, ironic foil to his vision, and to call this a mere crime novel is to say Everest is a nice little hill’ Frances Hegarty, Mail on Sunday
When animal-rights activists uncover a long-dead uniformed body in the grounds of Wanwood House, a research facility, Dalziel is presented with a seemingly insoluble mystery. And he is further perplexed when he’s attracted to one of the campaigners – now implicated in a murderous assault.
Meanwhile, the death of his grandmother has led Peter Pascoe to the battlefields of World War 1 and the enigma of who his grandfather was – and why he had to die.
The kitchen knife jammed into his cold heart pinned a cardboard sign to his well-toned chest. It read: Santa Says You've Been Bad!!! Ho, Ho, Ho! It's Christmas, but Lieutenant Eve Dallas is in no m...
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