Good as Dead
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The Hostage Police officer Helen Weeks walks into her local newsagent's on her way to work. Little does she know that this simple daily ritual will change her life forever. It's the last place she expects to be met with violence, but as she waits innocently at the till, she comes face to face with a gunman. The Demand The crazed hostage-taker is desperate to know what really happened to his beloved son, who died a year before in youth custody. By holding a police officer at gunpoint, he will force the one man who knows more about the case than any other to re-investigate his son's death. That man is DI Tom Thorne. The Twist While Helen fights to stay alive and the body-count rises,Thorne must race against time if he is to bring a killer to justice and save a young mother's life.
dozen others came running from the direction of the school towards the main road. All except Donnelly stopped at the line of arc lamps. He carried on that little bit further forward into the road, before stopping just a few feet away from Chivers. A few feet behind him. ‘Mr Thorne?’ ‘I’ve got him with me right now, Javed.’ Thorne leaned close to the shutters. ‘If I bring him in there, you have to promise me that once you have heard exactly what happened to Amin, you will give yourself up. No
argue.’ ‘About what?’ She waved the question away. ‘Couldn’t your daughter stay with you?’ ‘I told her to keep away.’ She shook her head, then tucked a strand of greying hair back beneath her embroidered headscarf. ‘I do not want her to see her father like this. To see how much he is frightening everyone.’ She looked towards the door. ‘To be around all these people who hate him.’ ‘Nobody hates him,’ Thorne said. ‘They’re just doing their jobs.’ Nadira turned away and stared out again at the
assortment of reading material from the shop, and had been staring at the same page of a motoring magazine for half an hour. He looked across at Helen. ‘Is he a good policeman?’ ‘I think so.’ ‘OK, then.’ Akhtar shrugged as if there was therefore nothing to worry about. ‘So we have to trust that he will do a good job. A better job than his colleagues made of things, at any rate.’ He went back to his magazine, turned the page. ‘Sometimes it doesn’t matter how good you are,’ Helen said. ‘How hard
Donnelly turned to Chivers. ‘Bob?’ It was the first time Thorne had heard Chivers’ Christian name and he thought it suited him quite nicely. Just the one syllable, a ‘Bob’ and not a ‘Robert’. Nice and easy to have tattooed somewhere handy in case he ever forgot it. Thorne glanced at Pascoe, but she would not look at him. He told himself it was because she was afraid she might laugh. ‘Well, you know what I think,’ Chivers said. He nodded in Pascoe’s direction. ‘With all respect, I’ve probably
Tom Thorne. Are you all right? Can you talk freely?’ Helen Weeks said that she could. That she was fine. ‘Tell Mr Akhtar that I know about what happened to his son, and that I’m sorry.’ They listened as the message was relayed. Nothing was said in response. ‘Helen? Can I talk to him?’ Helen asked the question, then said, ‘He wants you to talk to me for the time being.’ ‘OK, listen. Tell him that I’m willing to trade places. It’s me he asked for, so if he lets you walk out of there, he can