Death In Dublin by Bartholomew Gill

By Bartholomew Gill

The robbery of the ebook of Kells -- a fantastic ninth-century amalgam of Christian doctrine and Celtic legend -- from the Trinity collage library is, in itself, a such a lot stunning crime. however it is the brutal slaying of an evening watchman that throws Peter McGarr of the Dublin homicide Squad into the combo. pressured to percentage investigative tasks both with a publicity-hungry co-Chief Superintendent, McGarr is quickly entangled in a twisted net of homicide, thievery, back-biting politics, and darkish pagan rituals. And definitely extra blood will movement as secrets and techniques, deceptions, and well-guarded lies come to mild -- forcing an intrepid detective to doubt the loyalties of even his closest compatriots -- in a chilling case that threatens to result in not anything below the destruction of latest Irish society.

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Tell me now—why would anybody want to kill Raymond Sloane? So you nick the Book of Kells and them other two yokes. So you’re all dressed up in black and balaclavas, and you’ve disguised your feckin’ voices and all. Why off a feckin’ security guard like Raymond, who’d probably messed his britches the moment he sussed out what was happening? “Because”—she glanced down at McGarr’s drink, which was untouched—“because Raymond must have been in on it. “Because the moment they got the goods in their hands, it was nightie-night, Raymond.

46 Bartholomew Gill Suddenly, McGarr heard a commotion in the hallway, and the son burst past the archway to the sitting room. “Let’s put some air into this thing,” he roared. ” his mother shouted. Before McGarr could get up, McKeon also appeared in the archway, blood streaming down his face. “Bastard has a sap . ” He collapsed. “Come in,” the son could be heard saying obviously to the press gathered outside. “Come in all of yiz. The Guards—two poncey codger cunts—they snuck in the back. Forced entry.

Another word from you, and you’re out of here. ” It was not a question. “Not to drink. ” “Why drink? ” “That’s it. ” The man turned his head and smiled to the others. He did not move. ” She nodded. “Years ago. Him with a steady job but the family and no money, the missus told me. Any other place but Trinity—bein’ a college and all—would have booted his arse into Liffey, where it belonged. But he did the rehab, and then he was back acting . . different. “At first we put it down to the ‘pink cloud’ thing— you know, clean.

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