By Christopher Fowler
How can an aged recluse drown in a chair in her differently dry basement? That’s what John could and Arthur Bryant of London’s ordinary Crimes Unit got down to detect in a urban rife with shady genuine property builders, racist threats, dodgy academicians, and an individual dangerously passionate about Egyptian mythology. Linking all of them is an evil lurking in London’s colossal and forgotten underground river system—a killer with the eerie skill to strike wherever, each time, with no leaving a clue. It’s a subterranean case of secrets and techniques, lies, and a number of homicide that defies not just the legislation, yet cause itself. Can Bryant and should deliver a killer to the outside and prevent the darkish tide of homicide sooner than it pulls them lower than, too?
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Extra resources for The Water Room (Bryant and May, Bk 2)
Is his identify Butterworth? ’ requested Bryant. Mangeshkar ducked again and checked her reveal. ‘No, Henderson. ’ ‘Wait, I’m considering a Baptist, torso in a bin-bag in the back of Sainsbury’s. ’ ‘Home workplace wishes a unit consultant to head up there this night. indignant Republicans putting mobilephone calls to Westminster, doesn’t glance sturdy. ’ ‘Ah, Arthur, John. ’ Raymond Land squeezed prior Mangeshkar and hailed them with patently fake bonhomie, which pale as he attempted to climb round the partly assembled photocopier. ‘I’m joyful you’re either right here. the house Secretary wish to see you for a quick chat day after today. He’s very disillusioned that you’ve been impolite to his brother-in-law. ’ ‘I don't know what you’re conversing about,’ Bryant informed him. ‘Who the hell is his brother-in-law? ’ ‘Your new chap, Giles Kershaw. it sounds as if you’re refusing to exploit him. ’ ‘His brother-in-law? You’re joking. What a complete Quisling. I didn’t just like the lower of his jib the instant I observed him. Quel crapaud. ’ ‘Well, doubtless you’ll use your mythical diplomatic talents to variety the full mess out,’ Land smirked. ‘I mustn’t maintain you, I’m yes you've got lots of paintings to do. ’ He grew to become to depart, and stood at the cat’s tail. one of many workmen placing a partition around the workplace dropped his round observed. It shot around the ground, making each person scream. The unusual Crimes Unit at Mornington Crescent was once open for company once again. four commencing doorways via Tuesday morning, the irradiation of the lengthy dry summer time had already pale to a reminiscence because the temperature tumbled and a translucent caul of rain back the town to silvered shadows. Cracked earth softened among paving stones. light London dirt was once rinsed from leaves and vehicle roofs. again gardens misplaced their parched gray aridity, returning to wealthy wet vegetables and browns. The air humidified as wooden stretched and mortar secure, the city’s homes pleasurably settling into their usual damp kingdom. Rain seeped via break up tarmac, down into asymmetric beds of London clay, via gravel and pebbles and Thanet sand, via a huge intensity of chalk, to the flinted center and layers of fossils that crusted the melancholy shaped via the city’s six nice hills. London’s team slightly registered this mantic transformation. It definitely didn’t take lengthy for DC Bimsley and DS Longbright to hide the 10 homes in Balaklava road and the homes backing directly to Mrs Singh’s apartment. Longbright got here alongside simply because her flatpacked table was once nonetheless being assembled—too few dowelling items were supplied. whereas her colleagues bickered amiably, she armed herself with May’s newly programmed digital interview-pad and headed for the road. She nonetheless loved footwork simply because assembly the general public saved her hooked up, and it did her strong to get out. The rain used to be scouring the acidic city air, making it clean once again. She had labored with the bull-necked Bimsley sooner than, and loved his corporation. He used to be a really capable officer, but in addition one of many clumsiest, missing coordination and spatial information whereas maintaining the grace of a falling tree.