Download Birthdays for the Dead by Stuart MacBride PDF

By Stuart MacBride

The gritty new standalone crime novel from the No. 1 bestselling writer of Shatter the Bones and darkish Blood Detective Constable Ash Henderson has a dismal mystery! 5 years in the past his daughter, Rebecca, went lacking at the eve of her 13th birthday. A yr later the 1st card arrived: selfmade, with a Polaroid photo caught to front -- Rebecca, strapped to a chair, gagged and terrified. each year one other card: each worse than the final. The tabloids name him The Birthday Boy. He's been snatching women for twelve years, consistently within the run-up to their 13th birthday, sending the households his selfmade playing cards displaying their daughters being slowly tortured to loss of life. yet Ash hasn't informed an individual approximately Rebecca's birthday playing cards -- all of them imagine she's simply run clear of domestic -- simply because if a person reveals out, he'll be taken off the research. And he's sacrificed an excessive amount of to renounce earlier than his daughter's killer will get what he merits!

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She and her mother, and her grandmothers as far back as the seventeenth century, had taken such care, such pains. They had bred selectively, never marrying, always choosing the most auspicious elements of the gene pool, revealed through reliable oracles; treading a fine line between power and discovery. Technology made things a lot easier. If Paugeng's genetics division got its research right, then the next generation would be simply cloned and the knife-edge dangers of breeding would lie safely in the past.

And suddenly Robin could see it too, a vision of apocalypse conferred without grace. A tower crumbled and fell, crashing down into the street. The ground split and splintered under her feet and above her, the sky, too, cracked like a fractured eggshell. Robin's vision receded into a tunnel of night. She reeled back, her hand painfully striking the metal edge of the couch, and the lab was as before. " The question was no more than a thought, but the answer hissed in her head.  . Robin blinked, and the vision was suddenly gone.

The kitchen reeked of the uninvited guest, a pungent odor with a rank undertone of meat. It was some time before Robin could move and when she did, she sat wakeful, staring through the slats of the window by the futon at the small visible patch of sky. Robin's idea of stars was of a faded, pale dust strewn above the western sea, and none were visible now, so close to sunrise. Her imagination ran riot in the dimness of the kitchen. She was sure that she could hear the thing, rooting about again, until the shadowy glow from the street told her that this was only the recycling collector's cart out in the back alley.

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