When the naked body of a young man is found in a local beauty spot, Detective Inspector Mike Malone has two problems.
Firstly to find the young man’s identity and secondly to find out who murdered him. However, things are never simple and when Mike also discovers that one of his own is in trouble, he realises that an old adversary is once again playing him for a fool.
With Detective Alan Shepherd at his side, Mike follows the twists and turns of both cases, finding along the way that sometimes love and sex can be two sides of a very twisted coin.
This seventh novel in the series is once again a quirky trip into the town that Mike Malone has made his own and familiar faces pop up to make their voices heard.
With the wedding of his Detective Sergeant imminent, Detective Inspector Mike Malone finds that his life is very complicated. Firstly, he has to explain to his partner, Dr Fiona Davies, exactly what happened on Alan Shepherd’s stag-do and secondly, he has a series of brutal murders to solve.
As the case develops, Mike Malone finds that, in this instance, a policeman’s lot is not a happy one.
This is the sixth novel in the popular Mike Malone series and once again you will find a mixture of tongue-in-cheek humour and blood as you travel with Mike Malone through his little Lincolnshire town.
When Mike Malone is called to investigate the murder of a cow, which has been hanged from tree, he hopes that this is just a prank that has gone seriously wrong.
However, when the mutilated body of a young girl is found , he knows that once again he will have to drag the crime-board up from the basement and put his powers of deduction to work as the riddle of the nursery rhyme proves difficult to understand.
Light Hearted Romp
This novel, which is the third in the Mike Malone series, is once again a light-heated romp through rural Lincolnshire and many of the familiar faces from the previous novels return.
DS Alan Shepherd faithfully assists his boss in finding the serial killer behind the deaths of cows and girls but this time without the aid of custard creams.
This second novel in the Mike Malone series finds him once again in a fight against time.
The mysterious delivery of birthday cakes to farmyards seems to be just an innocent prank until the death of a farm favourite turns this game into something much more sinister.
Under Pressure
However, when the killer turns his attention from animals to women, Mike Malone realises that he is under pressure to solve the riddle of the nursery rhyme before more blood is spilt.
This second mystery, which is in the same light-hearted style as ‘The Woolly Murders’ is set once again in the Lincolnshire countryside and we meet several of the characters introduced in the first novel. We also find out a little more about Detective Inspector Mike Malone’s past.
Elena had a theory that whatever Pluto touched, he could potentially mask or make invisible in a birth chart. It was only a theory. Pluto’s reputation was one of transformation. She calculated that if Christopher Marlowe had been born around 2pm on the day of his birth, Pluto would have been exactly conjunct the Sun. But what did it really mean? She ran it by Mary one more time.
“So I’ve set the chart for 2.13 pm, look at this.”
Mary understood the meaning of this birth chart. “It’s him to a tea, isn’t it? The Moon rising in Leo, all that drama and creativity in his personality. And then the Sun and Pluto locked together in Pisces in the eighth house, he just had to be this shadowy, mysterious and strange individual, a spy – a man wearing a mask! It’s funny, but some say the image of Shakespeare in the First Folio looks like he’s wearing a mask.”
“And look at the well-developed Mercury, in good aspect to that Jupiter Saturn conjunction. He was a born writer too.”
Mary sat up. “Ah yes, of course, the birth and death of kings, that’s true. This conjunction is associated with that. And I would argue that Marlowe’s Edward the Second was really the first history play, very much along the same lines that Shakespeare would continue to write and develop later on.”
Elena then noticed something else. “He died on May 30 1593, didn’t we find out?”
“Yes.”
“Look, if I put in the transits for that very day, Pluto is closely conjunct his midheaven and Neptune is hovering close to his ascendant, just like it is in mine right now.”
“Curiouser and curiouser.”
Elena was beginning to feel more than a twinge of excitement. “Pluto on his midheaven might mean his career was rocked to its foundations, destroyed even, but it could also mean it goes underground, to become a career in disguise. And Neptune dissolves his personality. It’s like a kind of death.”
Mary eyed her friend. “Yes, either way he disappears forever. It is all very Faustian.”
“What do you mean?”
Mary picked up the book with the picture of Marlowe in it. “Maybe his play Faustus was not only a warning us about getting mixed up with magic, it was in part autobiographical too. Maybe he’s been in some kind of limbo ever since he died, a place from where he can at least contact us through the medium of dreams.”
Limbo maybe, but Elena still couldn’t figure out the other mystery. “So are we any nearer explaining the initials on that oak tree, I wonder?”
Mary thought for a few seconds. “Not yet, but give it time.”
Elena took the pregnancy test as a precaution, she knew pretty well what the result would be: positive. Michael too had his suspicions, though neither of them had intended starting a family just yet. Although privately pleased, even with the continuing morning sickness, she kept it to herself.
So it was with mixed feelings that Elena booked a doctor’s appointment, somewhat surprised to get an appointment that same day due to a cancellation. She had been sick again that morning, several times, and didn’t feel too good while she sat in the waiting room. It concerned her that she couldn’t see her own doctor. Instead she had been given an appointment with a locum, Dr Kim Parris. At least it was a woman, she much preferred to see female doctors.
Half an hour later, she was still waiting, the appointments evidently running quite late. Elena was wondering whether she should go to the toilet, when the light on the screen flashed. It was her turn. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and walked briskly to the surgery door, ignoring the slight sickness she was feeling once more in her stomach. She knocked on the door.
“Come!”
Some women had rather deep voices, she figured. She opened the door to find no one.
“Please, sit you down,” came a voice from behind a white screen.
“Thank you.”
Doctor Parris emerged. He was putting on a jacket, his hair swept back. He was clean shaven and smirking. Elena blinked a few times during those few seconds. They seemed to be gilded with a semblance of eternity.
“Elena, what a lovely name,” he said, sitting down in front of her. “That’s Italian for Helen, isn’t it?”
Ciscography 