Chapters (44)
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- About the Author
- Also by Stephen Booth
- About the Publisher
Researchers are studying genes that may be involved in schizophrenia and looking for ways to direct treatment according to genetic make-up. Brain imaging has identified differences in the brain for people at risk. Many studies have found evidence of abnormal brain structure and function in unaffected siblings.
The advice is to talk with a psychiatrist face-to-face about what you’re experiencing, even if it is only occasional forgetfulness or a feeling that you’re ‘losing it’. What you’re experiencing may be related to stress, and not to schizophrenia.
Cooper shuddered. Everyone thought they might be losing it at some time in their lives, didn’t they? It didn’t necessarily indicate a deeper problem.
But occasionally, such ideas did rise from the depths of his mind to settle on the surface, like a scum of decomposing leaves. It was best not to disturb them. They were black and slimy with putrescence. Leave them alone, and they’d sink to the bottom again, vanish in a bubble of gas. That was the best way. He wished Matt would understand it.
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Flowers had started to arrive at Darwin Street. Floral tributes to Lindsay Mullen and the two children. They came from relatives, friends and neighbours, and even from people who’d never known them. Communal grief had become fashionable, even in Edendale.
Next door, Keith Wade was complaining to a uniformed constable that he’d had to park his car at the end of the road because of the outer cordon. Fry saw that he was still wearing the same sweater. It must smell like a badger by now. No wonder Mr Wade lived alone.
And, of course, the fire investigator from the Forensic Science Service had arrived at Darwin Street when Fry wasn’t looking. As a result, he’d already assessed the scene and was setting out his equipment in the Mullens’ sitting room when she found him.
‘Glad you could make it,’ she said. ‘DS Fry.’
He was a small, middle-aged man whose white paper suit emphasized his pear-shaped body. And when he spoke, he revealed a Scottish accent.
‘Quinton Downie,’ he said, taking off a glove to shake hands.
‘Do you have all the background information you need?’
‘All that you can give me, apparently.’
‘You know the time of the call to the fire service, and the apparent seat of the blaze, based on the firefighters’ observations. We can’t tell you anything about the contents of this room.’
‘Yes, yes. So what is my objective? The cause of the fire? Mode of spread? Want me to comment on the accuracy of witness statements?’
‘The cause of the fire will do for now, thank you.’
‘Just so we’re clear. It would be very useful to examine photographs of the scene during the fire.’
‘Oh?’