The court case had been harrowing. The fifteen jurors sat in silence while the prosecution produced evidence of how a man with obsessive sado-masochistic fantasies had turned into a killer. Fourteen of the jurors were repulsed. One man was secretly enthralled. A new world of possibility had opened up for him.
When an actress is found dead, the ligature marks suggest that she had been involved in extreme sex games. When DIs Wheeler and Ross begin to investigate her death, they uncover not only an industry with varying degrees of regulation but also a sinister private club where some of Glasgow's elite pay handsomely to indulge their darkest fantasies. Club security is run by Paul Furlan, ex-army veteran and a former adversary of Wheeler. As Wheeler and Ross uncover the secrets and lies surrounding the club, they realise that their investigation is being blocked not just by Furlan but by some of Glasgow's most influential citizens.
Meanwhile Skye Cooper, Scotland's latest indie-rock sensation is playing the final gig of his sell-out tour but his dreams of stardom are on a collision course with the obsession threatening to consume him . .
READ AN EXTRACT FORM THE BOOK:
It was stoking her own hope, trust, and sure and certain knowledge that Amy was alive, which exhausted her. If, in some unguarded and unarmed moment, she let a splinter of doubt pierce her resolve then she would be defeated and something dark, something sticky and awful would bleed into her consciousness. No, better to keep herself armed with certainty until the city and the cruelty of its river told her otherwise.
Rachel Dawson stood on the bridge and watched the police divers search the River Clyde.
A softly spoken family liaison officer had informed her gently that the police had specialist resources, that they would follow up every lead while uniformed officers would continue to conduct city-wide inquiries. But Rachel knew that the combined time, money and resources of the special support units screamed quietly that they were looking for a body. They were convinced that Amy was gone. Rachel knew that they were not looking for her bright, vibrant daughter, but for an empty vessel. They weren’t searching for Amy, they were looking for a corpse.
Rachel had passed a reporter staring into a camera lens, had heard him confidently tell the television audience, ‘Amy Dawson was last seen leaving her flat at 7 p.m. on Friday 25 June.’ Rachel knew that he would show the grainy CCTV image of Amy’s car travelling along London Road at 7.23 p.m. She heard him continue, ‘The last confirmed sighting of Amy’s car suggests that it was heading towards the Campsie Fells. Detectives from Carmyle Station are working on building a picture of Amy’s last movements after she left her flat in Prosen Street in the East End of the city. Amy was last seen wearing a white cotton summer dress and black sandals.’
Rachel knew that the picture she’d given the police was a good likeness. Amy smiling into the camera, brown eyes, short, dark hair, a silver nose stud which glittered like a talisman.
Sometimes it is better that the city gifts us her secrets, however dark and unpalatable they may be.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR | Anne Randall was born in Glasgow and after university taught English in various secondary schools in inner Glasgow. In 2011 she won first prize for crime fiction writing at the Wells Literature Festival. Anne now lives in Glastonbury with her husband, two cats and one dog. Anne's first book in the Wheeler and Ross series, Riven, was written under the name A. J. McCreanor.