Captives – Shaun Hutson

Got it?’ The men got to their feet and began filing through the door on Gregson’s left, muttering to themselves and each other as they went. ‘What are you expecting us to find, Frank?’ Finn wanted to know. ‘Some answers?’ he mused, none too convincingly. ‘The way you talk, Frank, I’m beginning to wonder if you know something I don’t,’ Finn said. Gregson didn’t answer. 1kitap1.com/en ‘What are the nets for?’ Anne Hopper paused beside the rail of landing three and looked over, running her gaze over the wire mesh strung from one catwalk to the other.

‘To prevent suicides,’ Nicholson explained, standing beside her. ‘Are there many attempts at suicide, Mr Nicholson?’ Paul Merrick asked. ‘No more than usual in a prison this size,’ the Governor answered without looking at the other man. ‘And how many would be usual?’ Reginald Fairham wanted to know. ‘There are three or four attempted suicides every week,’ Nicholson said, his tone emotionless.

‘And how many are successful?’ Merrick wanted to know. ‘Two or three. It’s a good ratio for a gaol with a population this size.’ Nicholson began walking again, satisfied that his visitors were following him. Behind them Warders Niles and Swain walked slowly and purposefully, occasionally stopping to peer through the observation slots in the cell doors. The small procession moved on towards a set of metal stairs that led them down to the second landing.

Their footsteps echoed on the metal catwalks. ‘The nets aren’t that successful, then?’ Fairham said, if you have three suicides a week.’ Nicholson caught the note of sarcasm in the other man’s voice but he did not turn, did not look at the visitor. ‘It wouldn’t matter if we welded steel sheets across the landings,’ he said. ‘They’d still try and kill themselves. There are plenty of other ways than throwing yourself from a walkway.’ The tone of his voice hardened slightly.

The murders had been savage and apparently motiveless. Carbon copies of killings committed years earlier and by men currently incarcerated in one of Britain’s top maximum security prisons. How could this be? Detective Inspector Frank Gregson must find the answers. Answers which will bring him into conflict with one of those prisoners, a man framed for a murder he didn’t commit and determined to discover who framed him and why. These two obsessive men, on their private quests, will clash as they seek the truth which links Whitely Prison with London’s seedy underworld of sex-shows and drug barons.

One wants vengeance, the other wants the truth. What they discover threatens not only their lives but their sanity… *** ‘The man who writes what others are afraid even to imagine.’ -Sunday Times ‘You can’t read shaun hutson for more than a minute or two without starting to squirm.’ -Daily Express ‘An expert in the art of keeping the reader turning the pages.’ -Time Out *** Scaning & primary formating: pagesofdeath. Secondary formating & proofing: pua.

*** Dedicated to Mr Wally Grove. My most valued friend. From one unsociable bastard to another. 1kitap1.com/en ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS As with all my books, there now follows a list of everyone or everything that contributed to the writing and beyond. Even if it was only to try and keep yours truly something approaching sane. To everyone mentioned you have either my thanks or my admiration (some even have both). Extra special thanks to Gary Farrow, my manager, for his continuing efforts to ensure that anyone but us pays for expenses (and, no, I’m still not wearing a bloody suit).

Thanks, mate. Thanks also to Chris Page at ‘the office’ (despite his taste in football teams). Many thanks to Mr Damian Pulle, the Houdini of the VAT returns. Very special thanks to Nick Webb for his faith and his matchless ability to find gut-busting restaurants. To John O’Connor, Don Hughes, Bob Macdonald, Terry Jackson and Dave Kent and, especially, all my sales team for hammering everyone into submission.

You don’t release this lot, you unleash them. Thanks also to everyone in publicity and marketing. Extra special thanks to Caroline Bishop who put up with me ‘on the road’ (I promise to wear a vest next time, C.B…). But to everyone who contributed to a superb campaign, I thank you. To Barbara Boote and to John ‘I know that one’ Jarrold, many thanks. In fact, to everyone at Little Brown/Warner I extend my thanks.

Special thanks, as ever, to Peter Williams and Ray Mudie. To Tom Jones (no, not that one) and UCI. To Steve Hobbs at Bletchley Library for his help and interest.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: b88002708cf0b3f1
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 2,844,208 bytes (2.712 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 392
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 566.65 minutes
• Total Words: 113,331
• Total Characters: 656,199
• Average Words per Page: 289.11
• Average Characters per Page: 1673.98

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