Knots And Crosses
“The two policemen had been firm with him. No one could see Detective Sergeant Rebus for the moment. Stevens had returned to the newspaper office, worked on a report for the paper’s three-a.m. print-run, and then had driven back to Rebus’s flat. There were still lights on up there, but also there were two new gorillas by the door of the tenement. Stevens parked across the street and lit another cigarette. It was tying together nicely. The two threads were becoming one. The murders and the drug-p...ushing were involved in some way, and Rebus was the key by the look of things. What were his brother and he talking about at this hour? A contingency plan perhaps. God, he would have given anything to be a fly on the living-room wall just now. Anything. He knew reporters in Fleet Street who went in for sophisticated surveillance techniques – bugs, high-powered microphones, telephone-taps – and he wondered if it might not be worthwhile to invest in some of that equipment himself.
He formulated new theories in his head, theories with hundreds of permutations.MoreLess
He formulated new theories in his head, theories with hundreds of permutations.MoreLess
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