One More to Die
Detective Kate Carter is called out to a fatal car accident on a remote fen lane.
At first glance it looks like a drunk driver simply lost control and crashed headlong into a ditch. But nothing about the scene adds up. The number plate is fake. The driver’s licence doesn’t belong to the dead man in the car. One tyre doesn’t match the other three. And what is a vinyl 1960s pop record doing in the glove box?
A neat puncture wound to the driver’s neck reveals this was no accident.
The following day, the body of a young woman is found in an old barn out on the fens. She’s been dead at least two years. Placed on the body is another vintage pop record.
And then the nightmare becomes personal. A mysterious package arrives at the station addressed to Kate: a 45-rpm record, and a chilling note scrawled in block capitals: ONE MORE TO GO.
It’s just the start. Sinister phone calls, creepy notes left on her car, unwanted gifts on her doorstep: Kate can no longer deny that she’s being pursued by an obsessive stalker . . .
Is she next in the killer’s sights?
A gripping stand-alone thriller
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Joy Ellis
I was born in Kent but spent most of my working life in London and Surrey. I was an apprentice florist to Constance Spry Ltd, a prestigious Mayfair shop that throughout the Sixties and Seventies teemed with both royalty and ‘real’ celebrities. What an eye-opener for a working-class kid from the Garden of England! I swore then, probably whilst I was scrubbing the floor or making the tea, that I would have a shop of my own one day. It took until the early Eighties, but I did it. Sadly the recession wiped us out, and I embarked on a series of weird and wonderful jobs; the last one being a bookshop manager. Surrounded by books all day, getting to order whatever you liked, and being paid for it! Oh bliss!
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