Description

Wexford had never told anyone. None of it could be proved, not the stalking, not the stares or the conspiratorial smiles, not the killings, not any of the signs Targo had made because he knew Wexford knew and could do nothing about it. Wexford had almost made up his mind that he would never again set eyes on Eric Targos short, muscular figure. And yet there he was, back Wexford had never told anyone. None of it could be proved, not the stalking, not the stares or the conspiratorial smiles, not the killings, not any of the signs Targo had made because he knew Wexford knew and could do nothing about it. Wexford had almost made up his mind that he would never again set eyes on Eric Targos short, muscular figure. And yet there he was, back in Kingsmarkham, still with that cocky, strutting walk. Years earlier, when Wexford was a young police officer, a woman was strangled in her bedroom. Shortly after, another strangled woman was found. The murders went unsolved, but every personal and professional instinct told Wexford that the killer was Eric Targo. A psychopath who would kill again. As Wexford investigates a new case, he looks back to the beginning of his career and to his courtship of the woman who would become his wife. The past is a haunted place and leaves an indelible imprint on the here and now.