Back Conferences are Murder Save as PDF
Chapters (32)
  1. Title Page
  2. Praise
  3. Also by Val McDermid
  4. NOTE TO READERS
  5. Dedication
  6. PROLOGUE
  7. PART ONE - Blackpool, April 1984
  8. Chapter 1
  9. Chapter 2
  10. Chapter 3
  11. Chapter 4
  12. PART TWO - Sheffield, April 1993
  13. Chapter 1
  14. Chapter 2
  15. Chapter 3
  16. Chapter 4
  17. Chapter 5
  18. Chapter 6
  19. Chapter 7
  20. Chapter 8
  21. Chapter 9
  22. Chapter 10
  23. Chapter 11
  24. Chapter 12
  25. Chapter 13
  26. Chapter 14
  27. Chapter 15
  28. Chapter 16
  29. Chapter 17
  30. EPILOGUE
  31. V. L. McDermid
  32. Copyright Page

Cautiously, she opened her eyes. The light in its mesh cage seemed painfully bright, so she closed them again. One of the reasons she’d left Britain was because she’d had one too many close encounters with police interviewing techniques. Because her investigative journalism had once poked the authorities in the eye with a sharp stick, it had become clear to her that she was always going to be top of the list when the command came to “round up the usual suspects.” It wasn’t a role she relished. Moving to California might have been a leap into the dark, but at least the cops wouldn’t be breathing down her neck every time something criminal happened within a mile of her.

Their relationship had only just begun to find its rhythm and shape when Sophie had been offered the sort of opportunity that comes along only a couple of times in a consultant gynecologist’s career. A leading hospital in San Francisco was head-hunting an experienced team to staff a new unit, and Sophie’s work in Glasgow with HIV positive mothers-to-be made her the ideal choice. She had leaped at the chance and Lindsay, only too glad to escape the bitter memories Glasgow now held for her, had chosen to trust enough to go too.

They’d moved into a wood-framed house above the beach, an hour’s drive from the city, with a view of the Pacific that made Lindsay feel instantly at home. The best times in her life had been lived by the sea. First, growing up in a small Scottish village on the Atlantic coast. Later, learning to be a journalist in the cozy picture-postcard world of Cornwall. And later still, escaping from the security services’ awkward questions and restoring herself to sanity in a humble and repetitive daily routine on the Adriatic coast. For the first few weeks in America, she’d been happy to put her mind on hold again while she sanded and sealed floors, stripped and painted woodwork and walls, and learned the basics of surfing. She’d hardly even begun to get to know San Francisco in all its glorious charm. Then suddenly, she’d woken one morning, alert and restless, needing to find something that would give her the same fulfilment that Sophie found in her harrowing role at the hospital.