Whisper For The Reaper by Jack Gatland (best motivational books for students txt) 📗

network wires, even Monroe was finding the right placement for his yucca plant, all getting the little things out of the way, all knowing that they had to be organised and ready for anything as quick as they could.

Because you never knew what the next case would bring at the Last Chance Saloon.

DI Walsh and the team of the Last Chance

Saloon will return in their next thriller

Pre-order now

And read on for a sneak preview…

Prologue

Thirty years after the books had been first released, the Magpie series of children’s detective stories were almost forgotten in the contemporary book market. Set at the start of the nineties, the novels were simple and quick to follow; Agatha Christie for the pre-teen generation, a series of adventures with titles like The Adventure of the Drowning Duchess, The Adventure of the Missing Prince and The Adventure of the Broken Clock, all stories that showed how a small and clever team of teenage sleuths could defeat grown up criminals, with detective skills and gold old fashioned gumption. More contemporary than their Enid Blyton related peers, the Magpie series however had one major difference to the others.

They were based on the truth.

The official story was as old as the novels themselves; that author Reginald Troughton had learned of the Magpies and their crime solving through a report in a local newspaper, and had written their adventures as novels, never expecting the interest that they would generate. In fact, he wrote eight novels in total involving the adventures of Tommy, Luke, Tessa, Jane and Daniel, and their group mascot and crime solving spaniel Dexter the dog, finishing when the Magpies themselves disbanded after a distinguished teenage crime solving career.

The books had sold on for a few years more, but in the same way that many other book franchises suffered they were overtaken by new trends, new technology, and eventually faded into the realms of nostalgia.

But the fans never forgot them. And, as the years passed, and the Magpies moved on with their lives, the fans still supported them.

Well, some more than others.

Thomas Williams, or as he was known back then, Tommy wasn’t a teenage sleuth anymore. Now he was in his mid-forties but still looked a good few years younger, his brown hair short and styled with the slightest hint of bottle-dye, a Ted Baker suit over a pale Eton shirt, his tan brogues shined to perfection and his stubble carefully curated. He looked like a cross between a television presenter and a self-help guru. Which, actually, were two of the many roles he’d played over the years.

Today however he was there, not as Thomas, but as Tommy once more. The fourth floor of Waterstones’ Piccadilly branch had been converted from bookstore to event venue for the night, with folding chairs in rows facing a clearing at the front where a lectern had been hastily placed, a table to the side piled high with newly released editions of the Magpies books. Beside that a sign had been tacked onto the wall, the same poster that had been strategically positioned around the store; a photo of the Magpies in their prime, above a line of text that read

MEET THOMAS WILLIAMS - 'TOMMY' FROM THE MAGPIES! TODAY, 4th FLOOR, 7PM!

Thomas hated the photo; he hated that Daniel had got to sit beside Jane for it, while he had to place a brotherly arm around his ‘cousin’, Luke, who was being an absolute prick to him at the time.

Nothing changes.

He looked across the floor at the chairs from his hidden ‘backstage’ area, which was in actuality a small, closed off space made from repositioned bookshelves. It wasn’t exactly a West End dressing room, but he’d had worse.

The audience was primarily female; it always was for these events. Thomas assumed it was the same for teenage heartthrobs when they attended events years later, but he had never been a heartthrob in any sense of the word, and these women only wanted him now because he was a reminder of their youth—

He stopped scanning the audience as he spied a lone woman in her forties, her blonde hair pulled back. Slim and still as stunningly attractive as she was as a teenager, Thomas grinned on seeing her, and straightened his jacket.

Ah, Jane. You couldn’t stay away from me.

Now, Thomas Williams had an audience that he gave a damn about.

A small, stocky woman in her late thirties walked to the lectern, tapping the microphone on it to check that it was working, silencing the audience’s conversations as they turned to face her with expectant gazes. When he’d arrived an hour earlier, she’d told Thomas her name, and he seemed to remember that she was the manager of one floor, but there were so many managers and store owners over the years, in the end they all merged into one. He never remembered the names.

Well, only the pretty ones.

‘Thank you everyone, for attending tonight,’ she began, her face beaming with pride. ‘When I was a girl, I loved the Magpie books. I’d even dream of one day solving cases with Tommy Williams, Luke Ashton, Tess Martin, Jane Taylor, Daniel McCarthy and Dexter the dog. Anyone else do that?’

There was a smattering of hands and a chuckle of approving laughter. Validated, the manager grinned and continued.

‘One reason that the books sold so well, apart from the excellent writing of Reginald Troughton, was that the five characters—‘

‘And the dog!’ a voice called out. Thomas, listening, cringed. He had hated that bloody spaniel.

‘And the dog, yes,’ the manager replied. ‘One reason the books sold so well was because unlike so many other 'teenage detective' stories, these were true, written by Troughton, based on notes and interviews given to him by the Magpies themselves.’

Thomas moved into position for his entrance, and the audience, seeing this, murmured with excitement as, unaware of this, the manager continued.

‘And tonight we're very lucky to