He held the crime-scene tape for me to duck under, and it was so familiar, I had made that quick easy movement so many times, that for a split second it felt like coming home.

With a stand-alone crime, you have no way of knowing what’s pure chance and what’s a clue,

Other Voices: Identity, Concealment and Truth.’

it read a lot like an undercover had got killed.

almost everything I said was the truth, just Lexie’s rather than mine.

After a moment Frank said, very gently, “I know you’re getting on well with

The cold fact is that every murder I’ve worked was about the killer.

I swing round the newel post at the top and catch a flash of movement in the corner of my eye: the spotted old mirror at the end of the corridor, my face reflected in it, laughing.

for