The Black book
“Brian Holmes had opened his eyes briefly, and it was reckoned by the doctors that he was on his way to recovery. None of them, however, hazarded the phrase ‘full recovery’. Still, the news had cheered Siobhan Clarke, and she was in a good mood when she arrived at Rebus’s Arden Street flat. He was waiting for her at street level. She drove a two-year-old cherry-red Renault 5. It looked young and full of life, while Rebus’s car (parked next to it) looked to be in terminal condition. But Rebus’s c...ar had been looking like this for three or four years now, and just when he’d determined to get rid of it it always seemed to go into remission. Rebus had the feeling the car could read his mind.
‘Morning, sir,’ said Siobhan Clarke. There was pop music coming from the stereo. She saw Rebus cringe as he got into the passenger seat, and turned the volume down. ‘Bad night?’ ‘People always seem to ask me that.’ ‘Now why could that be?’ They stopped at a bakery so Rebus could buy some breakfast.MoreLess
‘Morning, sir,’ said Siobhan Clarke. There was pop music coming from the stereo. She saw Rebus cringe as he got into the passenger seat, and turned the volume down. ‘Bad night?’ ‘People always seem to ask me that.’ ‘Now why could that be?’ They stopped at a bakery so Rebus could buy some breakfast.MoreLess
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