She's Leaving Home (Breen and Tozer)

She's Leaving Home (Breen and Tozer)

William Shaw

Language: English

Pages: 448

ISBN: 0316246859

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

London, 1968: The body of a teenage girl is found just steps away from the Beatles' Abbey Road recording studio.

The police are called to a residential street in St John's Wood where an unidentified young woman has been strangled. Detective Sergeant Cathal Breen believes she may be one of the many Beatles fans who regularly camp outside Abbey Road Studios. With his reputation tarnished by an inexplicable act of cowardice, this is Breen's last chance to prove he's up to the job.

Breen is of the generation for whom reaching adulthood meant turning into one's parents and accepting one's place in the world. But the world around him is changing beyond recognition. Nothing illustrates the shift more than Helen Tozer, a brazen and rambunctious young policewoman assisting him with the case. Together they navigate a world on edge, where conservative tradition gives way to frightening new freedoms--and troubling new crimes.

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the police station where he had worked before he took the job with D Division. Basement flat. There had been no chance yet to put away his father’s things. A carton of bandages still sat on the dresser and his walking frame was still by the door. On the telephone table a pile of the notes he had left for the women he had paid to look after his father while he was at work. The nurse’s folded zed bed, tucked into the corner of the room. A tangle of wires from a single socket powered the

nodded thoughtfully. “I got two men,” he said. “We could send for more, only there aren’t too many of us on duty in these parts this time of day.” Breen considered for a second. “Two should be OK,” he said. Carmichael leaned forward. “Is there a toilet round here?” he called through the open window. “Public toilet down there,” said the sergeant. Carmichael opened the door and stood, bent from the waist, holding his stomach. “It’ll be closed now, course,” the sergeant said. “Of course,” said

wall, covered in these messages. He walked round into the small car park. There were more words on the other side too. “We paint over it every few months,” said a voice. Breen looked up. The front of the recording studio was a large Georgian house, set back from the road. Standing on the steps leading up to the front door was a man in a brown caretaker’s coat, holding a clipboard. There was a pile of musical instruments at the bottom of the stairs: cellos and double basses. “Don’t know why we

Breen handed the dress to Tozer and struggled to pull out a notebook from his jacket pocket. Holding it with his sore arm, he flicked through until he found a drawing he’d made of the flats with all the occupants marked on it. “Why would anybody throw this away?” said Tozer. “I mean, it’s in good nick.” “Why is it so clean?” said Breen. “If it was in the bins?” “It was in that bag I just give you, sir.” Breen put down the bag. “Why didn’t you tell me that before I stuck my own prints all over

was me as said so, you understand. I don’t want to cast any aspersions. This is a nice block.” Miss Shankley tipped the ash of her cigarette into a large ashtray. “How was she killed?” “We can’t say yet.” “Was she interfered with?” “I’m not sure.” “There was a woman abducted in a van on Abbey Road a few years ago. It turned out to be a young man who was a bit soft in the head who worked in the bakery. I don’t think he lives around here now, though.” The woman sighed. The sound of a telephone

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