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Mystery/Crime |
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Description:Senior Constable Alan Foster faces the devastation of his beloved Pelican East as bushfires sweep through the community. Foster and his deputy race to evacuate the schools as the fires approach. They receive a plea for help from Judy Halliday, a teacher who can't get in touch with her husband. Learning that an early fire swept through the Halliday property ahead of the main front, he discovers a badly charred body with contusions on the skull and a tuft of black human hair clutched in the dead man’s fist. Was Peter Halliday just one of many casualties of the bushfires on that day? Foster has grave misgivings. Is it true that Judy Halliday is having an affair? Was Peter in a legal battle with his brother over the family farm? And what about the rumors of a large marijuana crop hidden in the bush lands on the Halliday property – now conveniently incinerated? There’s more here than meets the eye, and Foster only has until the end of the week to prove he has a case...
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Excerpt:Senior Constable Alan Foster noticed the sky change color. It went that particular sickly yellow you don’t see very often—and he’d rather not see now. The wind suddenly gusted strongly from the north, picking up wrappers from the bins outside the shops in the main road and stacking them against fence posts, tree trunks, and chain link fences. “Oh, no,” he said. “Not again.” “What’s the matter, sir?” Lee joined him at the window. “See that? That color in the sky? Bushfire. Perfect day for it, too. Let’s go out the front and get a better view of what’s going on.” From the front door, they looked across Pelican East Road, past the little weatherboard church, to the steep, heavily forested hills beyond. A huge column of smoke billowed gray in the far distance, screening the sun and turning it into a softly glowing red disc. The wind slapped hot in their faces. “North westerly,” he said. “Just what we didn’t need.” “Will it come this way? The fire?” “Depends on the wind. If it stays in this direction, with the air so hot and dry, then I’d say there’s a good chance. Ever been in a bushfire?” She shook her head. The siren started wailing at the fire station up on the corner of School Road. “Always turns my stomach, that sound,” Foster said. “Nothing good ever comes out of it. Fires, road accidents. Always something horrible.” A fire truck and a tanker moved out of the fire station, laden with men still pulling on their yellow boiler suits and helmets. They watched as the trucks headed north, away from the police station. “What do you think, boss? What should we be doing?” “I’ll ring HQ to find out what the big picture is. Our job is to sit tight until we get word that it’s coming this way. Then it will be ‘all systems go.’ We’ll need to evacuate the kinder, the schools, the nursing home, set up road blocks—" “What? Just us?” |
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Customer Reviews:Jackie Tritt (Friday, 01 February 2008)Rating: ![]() I guess it is deja vu but the summer of 2006/7 seems pretty reminiscent of the summer you wrote about in that novel and I found your writing so real and sympathetic it brought the current situation to life.rnrnOne of the best Australian detective novels I have ever read... so after all this time...rnrnThank you and congratulationsrnrnLindsay Saundersrn |
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