The Mammoth Book of Best British Crime 9
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Maxim Jakubowski has once again compiled a blockbuster collection of the year's most outstanding short crime fiction published in the UK. His aim is always to present the whole breadth of crime, mystery and thriller writing, from gentle stories of detection to puzzling historical labyrinths full of devious characters and sharp social comment about our imperfect society in some savage, and often scary stories.
Last year saw a fifth Crime Writers Association Short Story Dagger award for the series - for 'Homework' by Phil Lovesey, whose work features again in this year's collection.
There is a new story by Ann Cleeves, whose fictional sleuth Vera Stanhope has created such a buzz in ITV prime-time drama Vera, starring Brenda Blethyn.
Making their debut in Best British Crime are many established names such as Reginald Hill, R. J. Ellory, John Lawton and Stuart Neville. Also represented are writers such as L. C. Tyler, Chris Ewan, Ian Ayris, Col Bury, Matt Hilton and Christine Poulson, some of whom have already made a name for themselves, while others are at the start of hugely promising careers.
adult world he was usually in the wrong! I quite liked Father Stamp and I certainly liked his mint humbugs, but when it came to practical information about the graves, I turned to the men who dug them. There were two of them, Young Clem and Old Clem. I don’t know how old Old Clem was – certainly no older than my dad – but he “had a back” and seemed to spend most of his time standing by the side of a new grave, smoking his pipe, while Young Clem laboured with his spade down below. Nowadays they
the crypt floor with such a bang that all of the breath and most of the consciousness was knocked out of my body. I had a sense of being embraced again but not in the strong muscular way that Father Stamp had embraced me. Maybe, I thought, this was Rocky. Then I was raised by strong arms and carried up the steps, and my lolling head gave me a view down into the crypt lit by a moving light that I think must have come from Father Stamp’s torch, rolling around where he’d dropped it as we went
answers. “This is my friend Miriam,” Vera says, and says something to her friend in Swedish. Miriam gives us a big smile and we stagger thankfully into a small apartment, blissfully warm and welcoming. One by one we have hot showers, and Miriam dresses our wounds and gives us hot soup. Abbie is so exhausted after having had only brief snatches of sleep for a week now that she immediately falls into a deep slumber in an armchair. Rich and I talk to Vera for a while until we too are overcome with
minutes, Colonel. Penguin Café, Kingly Street. Das Vidanye.” He’d no idea why he’d thrown in the “das vidanye” – perhaps a desperate urge to sound more Russian than he had. H. G. said, “I’ll be there … you Commie fucking bastard. I’ll be there.” Much to George’s alarm he got up from the bed, seemingly less drunk, bollock-naked, stiff cock swaying in its frenchie, and came towards him. George fled. It was what Donna had told him to do. Down in the street, George arrived just in time to see
unwelcome advances. They weren’t surprised; he must have had that sort of reputation and they seemed almost pleased that I’d decided to return to them. Vanessa drove me to Paddington and we made plans on the way. She was quite a different woman now, full-blooded and decisive. She said she’d tell the staff that George and I had run away together. And then she’d sell the house and the workshop. Even in this climate, the area had changed so dramatically that there’d be a market for all that land, so