By Grant Jerkins
A twisting debut novel of homicide and darkish relations secrets and techniques from a riveting new voice in crime fiction. A murdered lady. A grieving husband. And their son-a mentally handicapped grownup with a heritage of violent outbursts. a very easy case. Or is it? Leo Hewitt, an Assistant DA as soon as blamed for surroundings unfastened a infamous child-killer, is raring to redeem himself with this intimate and grisly crime. As he digs lower than the outside he discovers greater than he ever anticipated-including an emotionally disturbed spouse, a husband who'd do whatever to flee his disastrous marriage, and an accused younger guy with out obvious technique of security. yet with each one stunning new revelation, Leo is simply led deeper and deeper into the darkness-an inescapable catch of blood bonds and twisted family members secrets and techniques.
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Extra resources for A Very Simple Crime
We shared a dim room in the damp space beneath the house. We grew to love it. We had privacy to experiment with stolen cigarettes and stay up till all hours watching black-and-white crime movies. We were separate from the rest of the family, the strangers above us who shared our blood, and we were rulers, or so it seemed to us, of our own domain. The basement, being belowground, was completely without light at nighttime. The deepest darkness. One night, I woke needing to use the bathroom and clambered from my bed to make the trip upstairs to the only bathroom in the house.
I have been struck blind. TWELVE Rachel’s father, Benjamin Lawson, my employer, dies suddenly and unexpectedly of a stroke a year later. His entire estate is left to Rachel. We are rich. The death strikes yet another blow to Rachel’s fragile world. She deteriorates rapidly. She refuses to leave the house. Any suggestion of venturing outside is met with hostility. Her doctor, who must come to the house to see his patient, prescribes yet another antidepressant, but if the drug has an effect, I cannot see it.
It was neither animal nor human. It was inorganic. It was anguish. Rachel seemed to crumple in on herself, as though the horrid sound she emitted were her escaping life essence. I went to her, hands open. She warded me off. “Don’t! Don’t you! ” Her hands went to her head. Her fingers tore strands, then clumps, of her hair out of her head. Her scalp began to bleed. The salesgirl stared at us, horrified. I have been very careful ever since. FOUR “So she’s crazy. Guess what? All women are crazy. You know why?