By Graham Masterton
One chilly spring morning in County Cork, fishermen discover a package of rags floating within the Blackwater River.
It is the bloated physique of pop Heaney. His arms and toes are certain, and his neck bears the marks of garrotting cord. Worse nonetheless, he has been castrated.
When a moment priest is located murdered, his physique bruised and crushed and a similar savage wound hidden underneath his soutane, Detective Inspector Katie Maguire unearths facts of a sinister cover-up at St Joseph's Orphanage.
But the Catholic diocese nonetheless wields enormous energy right here, and the Garda are stressed to shut the case. Katie has to paintings on my own if she is to trap the killer in time - yet first she needs to shatter a wall of silence that for many years has hidden a bad secret.
A mystery that's past belief...
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Additional info for Broken Angels (Katie Maguire, Book 2)
When Jenny’s grandfather had died, her mother had sold the house and asked them to take whatever they wanted. The only furnishings Jenny had claimed were a set of antique lamps with glass shades hand-painted with red and pink roses. The lamps had vanished, replaced by more modern lighting, including a brass floor lamp Jim could not imagine ever buying. ” he shouted in the empty apartment. ” His voice filled the place, giving it a sense of occupancy that felt entirely wrong. His voice alone shouldn’t be enough to make the apartment seem full.
He was still tired and confused from his afternoon sleep, his legs hadn’t woken properly yet, and maybe he’d dreamed something weird again—something that still impressed upon him without him being able to remember anything. “Hey,” Jonathan said when he answered. ” “Less than nine inches,” Jim said. ” “Nothing. ” “Jenny. Holly. They must be still with you, because they didn’t take our car. ” Jonathan was silent for a few seconds. Jim heard his agent breathing softly, and he listened for Holly’s conspiratorial giggle as she watched her uncle Jonathan playing a joke on Daddy.
For the few years she had left of her life, she had tried to make light of it, but Jim had felt the distance the woman had placed between herself and her future daughter-in-law, and he knew Jenny had felt it, too. In his mind’s eye, he could still see the shattered platter and the ruined bird on the floor of his parents’ dining room, the shards like the rough edges of broken clamshells. Yet there it was, good as new, on display on top of his china cabinet. It broke him. He stood on tiptoes, reached up on top of the cabinet, and swept the platter onto the floor.
Broken Angels (Katie Maguire, Book 2) by Graham Masterton